Blood Red (2 page)

Vivi Anna

and collected her money without a word. She carried on without a glance at Red, knowing the girl’s drinking habits well enough to leave her alone.

Red picked up the short glass and slammed back the drink, setting the empty back on the table.

“Another," her voice low and gravelly, barely audible above the murmur of the other patrons.

This time, Mary did look down. Red’s eyes were half closed and she leaned slightly to the left. Her short-cropped scarlet hair stuck up in places where she had been running her hands absently through it.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

Red raised her head and stared back at the woman, her sea-green eyes penetrating deep into her soul, and someplace even more private.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. I told you to bring me another fucking drink.”

She tore her gaze away from Red’s unwavering stare. The girl never backed down. Mary should have learned that by now. She set the other empty on her tray and waddled back to the bar to fill it without another word.

* * *

Red slid a cigarette into her mouth and lit it.
Stupid
cow,
she thought. The old broad should learn to mind her business. She definitely did not need a caretaker.

Not now, after surviving on her own for the last seven years. She didn’t need anybody.

She glanced back to the bar. She really needed that drink. She noticed a young man with light, tussled 2

Blood Red

hair sitting on a stool at the bar. He was staring at her, and lifted his glass in salute.

Red looked away. She’d seen him around before.

He was always looking at her, watching her. His name was Jack. That was all she knew, or cared to know. She was not looking for companions or friends.

A shadow passed over her. A short glass of vodka was set by her hand. She looked up and found Jack staring down at her, a smile spreading across his boyish face.

“You looked thirsty.”

Without acknowledgment, Red picked up the glass and took a sip. She looked away from his eager face.

“Can I join you?”

Red blew smoke in his direction. Coughing, he sat down across from her.

“My name’s Jack.” He stuck out his hand. Red looked at it like it was encrusted with shit. He dropped his hand and laughed nervously.

“I guess you’re not much of a talker. I heard that about you.”

Red pounded back the rest of her drink. She slid her hand across the table and took Jack’s glass. She pounded that back too. She set the empty down sharply beside his hand staring blankly into his soft blue eyes.

He laughed again. “I could get us more drinks.”

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re famous.”

“Infamous, you mean.” She rubbed her thumb 3