“Ace Newman?” Her eyes widened then narrowed as she scrutinized me. “Holy shit, that’s you?”
“Yup. In the flesh.” I said. “And speaking of flesh… you owe me your shirt.” I loved watching her squirm.
“You have to prove that’s really you,” she demanded.
I reached behind me, pulled my wallet from my back pocket, and flashed my driver’s license. She took my wallet, stared at the license, then in front of me, opened it to see the wad of cash I always carried.
“You gonna rob me, darlin’?” I asked, and she flushed, closing it up and handing it to me.
I sipped my Jack and Coke, and then my beer, alternating flavors as I leaned back in my chair. My eyebrows rose up and down at her, motioning for her to get on with my show. I watched the indecision in her eyes as she looked around the room.
“I was kidding, Yankee. You’re at work. I know you can’t take your shirt off.” I let her off the hook, then she surprised me by reaching beneath her skirt and pulling her panties down her legs. She smiled as she held them out.
“Will these work instead?”
I lifted the purple cotton to my nose and sniffed, smiling when she blushed even more. She blushed just like Holly. Hell, she almost had her eyes.
I stuffed them in my pocket and felt the baggy of coke that I’d forgotten. Need hit me like a fist, making every part of me hurt.
“You okay?” the bartender asked, looking concerned and I realized I was sweating.
I wiped my forehead with my sleeve. “Yeah, Yankee, I’ll be right back.”
In the bathroom, I pulled out the coke and walked to the toilet, intent on flushing its temptation away. I closed the stall behind me and held the bag in my hand. It was coke and something else. Xanax I realized. For later. To help me come down.
“Don’t need it,” I muttered to myself.
I opened the bag and raised it over the toilet bowl. Then stopped.
I was tired. Sore. Out of sorts. Pissed. Drained. One little bump would take all that away.
“Fuck it.”
Dipping my thumb in the white powder, I raised it to my nose before I changed my mine. I sniffed, and my mind exploded, changed, shifted in an instant. By the time I’d taken the second bump, I was clear. Energized. Me.
I carefully closed the bag and stuck it back into my pocket. What was the problem with a little hit anyway? It wasn’t like I was taking performance enhancing drugs to be better on the field. I didn’t touch that shit. Never had. Never would.
An occasional lift couldn’t hurt anybody.
Back at the bar, Yankee had another round waiting for me. I smiled and lifted the Jack to my lips. The door behind me opened, and the bartender’s face changed.
“Charlie, you know you can’t come in here,” she told him, but there wasn’t any malice in her voice. Just pity.
In the mirror, I assessed the dirty man. The military jacket that had to be too hot to wear was ripped in several places. He was turning to leave when I called out to him, “Hungry?”
Charlie turned back and nodded, unable to look me in the eye.
I looked at Yankee. “Is the kitchen open?”
She nodded, but her lips were tight.
Charlie took a stool a couple places down from me, his hands in his lap. I handed him the menu. “Order anything you want.”
He glanced over at me, then quickly away. “Appreciate it. I’ll just have some fries and—”
“Bullshit. You like burgers or chicken?”
Charlie licked his lips. “Burgers.”
I turned to Yankee. “Let’s get him a double cheeseburger and fries. Pack up another one for later.”
Her lips were still tight, but she nodded and placed his order.
“What do you want to drink?” I asked him, knowing I was stepping on dangerous ground.
“Coke?” he asked, his voice still barely audible.
I placed the order and then said as casually as possible, “Why don’t you go wash up? I’ll watch your stuff.”
As soon as he left, Yankee walked over to me. “That’s nice of you.”
“What’s his story?”
She lifted a shoulder, which didn’t surprise me. Most people didn’t care enough to ask. The homeless were invisible to most everyone, which pissed me off. Most of them had the most incredible stories, were real heroes, and had survived more shit than most people would ever know.
After Charlie started eating, he started opening up. Just as I thought, he was a war vet who had survived three tours in hell. “Lost my leg, then my mind,” he chuckled and lifted his pant leg to show me the prosthesis.
“You seeing anyone?” I asked casually when he jumped after a door slammed closed.
“Nah. I did for a while, but…” he lifted a shoulder and took another large bite. He was starving, and it pissed me off.
“Where are you sleeping?” I asked him after I ordered a couple slices of apple pie and pushed both in his direction.
“Here and there.”
I gritted my teeth. “I saw a pretty nice place not far from here. Rent by the month. After you eat, let’s get you set up there for a while.”
He paused, a fry halfway to his lips. “Why?”
It was my turn to lift my shoulder. “Because I want to thank you for serving our country.”
I’d learned long ago that thanking them was usually the only way I could get vets to take any assistance.
He swallowed hard, his dark eyes boring into mine. “Sounds good, man.”
I motioned to the girl behind the bar, asking for the check. I paid, left her a hundred and took my new friend to the local big box store.
An hour later, we came out with clothes, food, and toiletries. I also bought hundreds of dollars’ worth of gift cards to various restaurants in the area; enough gift cards to feed him for six months, at least. I’d found it was better to give gift cards than cash when I could, so they didn’t drink the money away, if drinking was a problem, which it usually was.
Another taxi took us to the ‘pay by the month’ hotel I saw earlier, and I paid him up for a year. We got all of his stuff settled, and dammit, I hated to leave him there alone. But I’d done what I could.
“Thanks, man,” Charlie said before I left.
I slapped him on the shoulder. “No, thank you. Take care.”
I left him there, closing the door behind me softly. Inside, Charlie started to whistle.
Smiling, I walked away, down the steps and back onto the street. Getting my bearings, I decided to walk back to the bar. I had some purple panties I needed to return.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Holly
“Why won’t anyone tell me where Ace is?”
Calvin and the other guys just stared at me like I was asking them to do complicated math. I was smiling, trying to keep my voice light. The last thing I needed was to be thought of as a hysterical female.
“He wasn’t on our shuttle,” Marty finally spoke up.
I took a deep breath, a smile still plastered on my face. “Did you see him leave the stadium?”
Again, what the fuck was with these looks?
“He did leave,” Frank confessed. “I saw him in the parking lot.”
Another deep breath. “Okay, so did he get on another shuttle?”
“Did you call him?” Marty asked.