"Wait, now let me guess. The next thing that you will say is that I am the lost queen, and that soon, my king would come walking through that door and take me away, am I right?" You asked, leaning towards the old woman who sat on the other side of the counter. The old woman looked at you, her eyes wide from insult. You just smiled and let out a chuckle at the look on her face.
"Jane Evans! I thought that you'd know better than to laugh at the sayings of an old woman," She said, a frown on her face. "I'll have you know that back in my days, I was a man eater and I was taken seriously."
"Yeah, sure thing, Grandma." You said, smiling as you refilled her glass with gin and wiped the table from the spills. Another man, who raised his hand, caught your attention, and you refilled his glass with brandy. You went back to the old lady that you were talking to, and studied her face. If every town had a crazy lady, then this woman would be Snydersville's crazy lady. No one knows her real name, so she's known as Grandma. She believed that before history even started in this world, there were creatures living in the world -elves, and dwarves of the like, and there were long wars and long moments of peace during their time. The most popular story that she ever told people was the story of the cursed king and the lost queen.
"You should not make fun of or disregard history, Jane Evans." She said, holding the glass of gin between her hands and sipping from it.
"Look, Grandma. History is World War 2, the Crusades, the Salem Trials, Hamilton!" You exclaimed, pointing your hand towards a news report about the hit musical. "What you say is just total bull." As you said that, a loud clap of thunder sounded outside your bar, and you jumped, looking out to see lightning lighting the dark, cloudy sky. That lightning was followed by the muffled sound of hard rain. You heard the old crone cackle.
"The gods are angry, Jane Evans. They expected better from you." Grandma said, taking another sip from her drink, and placing the glass back down on the counter. You glared at the old woman.
"Lady, there's only one God, and if He's angry with anyone, then it's probably you." You said, and the old woman just gave you a look that sent your arm hairs raising. You liked Grandma. You were one of the few people in this small town that actually tried to be friendly to her and succeeded.
But this woman could give you the chills in a snap.
"And don't you have anything better to do?" You asked, and the old woman just nodded and left her seat. Great, now you felt guilty for shooing her away. You looked back at Grandma and your brows shot up as she got an umbrella out of nowhere. You shook your head and rest your elbows on the countertop, switching the channels from sports, to dramas, to cartoons, but you can't find anything interesting. Your head snapped towards the door as it slammed open, the bell ringing loudly from the force of the man who opened it. If it were any regular day, you would have ogled at the man who entered the door. He would be in any woman's romantic fantasies -tall, dark haired, broad shoulders, neatly trimmed beard, and all that jazz. It didn't help that his polo stuck to his skin from the rain and his sleeves were rolled up. And you wouldn't know where to start with his voice -his rich, baritone voice would have made your knees buckle. You would have fell for him in an instant.
But the fact that he almost broke your door turned things the other way around.
"Hey, buddy, watch it! Doors with glass don't come cheap, you know! Especially with the state of this place." You exclaimed, glaring him down as he walked towards a customer.
"Sir, do you have a phone here?" The man asked, and the customer just pointed a shaky finger at you. You leaned on one foot and crossed your arms, biting your right cheek. It was a habit you always do when you're annoyed. The man turned to you, and was confused at first.
"Sure, don't mind the owner who knows this place like the back of her hand." You said, rolling your eyes, and the man leaned to you.
"Miss, do you have a phone?" He asked, and you raised a brow at him.
"A dollar for a phone call." You said. Judging by his look and his apparel, he wasn't from around here or any city near Snydersville. Tailored charcoal grey suit, neatly trimmed beard, well kept hair, despite its length, and a ring on his middle finger. With the way this man dressed, you could tell that he has more than a pretty penny to last a life time. He fished his pocket and slammed a bill in front of you, and what do you know? He's got Benjamins in his pocket like spare change.
"Hallway on the left, the stall beside the men's bathroom." You said, your grudge gone as you took the hundred dollar bill and he left, not even waiting for the change. His phone call took a while, since your customers have all but left, and you and him were the only ones left in the bar. You took a rag and started cleaning the tables, placing the chairs on top of them afterwards. When you finished with that, you swept the whole floor, and when you were in the middle of mopping, he went out. By the way he walked towards the bar counter and sat, it looks like his phone call went bad.
"One scotch." He said from behind his hands as he rubbed his face and combed his wet hair back. You left your mop, and went behind the counter, pouring him a glass of scotch.
"Cavalry's not coming?" You asked, raising a brow, but he just shook his head and downed his glass. You poured him another one.
"My car broke down, just on the outskirts of this town. Had to walk for an hour, and just now, my friend said that this town isn't on the radar."
"Oh, yeah. This town only shows up in a few maps, and I'm sure Google Maps ain't one of them." You said, and he groaned behind his palms.
"Is there a motel or an inn here somewhere?" He asked, and you shook your head.
"This town is small enough and so undiscovered that nobody new passes here." You explained, and you heard him mutter a 'great', before finishing his glass.
"Although, I could take a look at your car tomorrow." You offered, and he raised his brow.
"You're a mechanic?" He asked, and you shrugged.
"I know a few things. Our town's mechanic is off to a vacation, and he's not gonna be back until next month. I hope you're in no rush to go to wherever you're going," You said, and he sighed. "Look, mister, I gotta lock up in a while. Say, I'll lessen your series of unfortunate events, and what you drank is on the house. I'll throw in another bottle of beer." You said, and he gave another long sigh, and nodded in defeat. As you gave him the bottle, you gave him a small smile. He left, and you wished him luck to wherever he'll sleep.
When you closed your bar, the rain stopped pouring. You were walking back towards your apartment, when you heard an all too familiar click behind you and something hard sticking at your back.
"I'm only going to say this once. Turn around, open up your bar again, and give us all the money you have there." A voice said behind you. At first, you would have thought that it was that handsome stranger from the bar, but you would have recognized his baritone voice in an instant. You raised your hands in surrender, and slowly turned around. The man's face was covered, so you can't recognize him.
"Look, have you seen the state of that place? It's dying, man. I barely earn anything there. The cash in that bar isn't worth your time and effort." You said, trying to discourage him.
"Any cash is cash. Now, if you don't do something by the count of three, I'm gonna put a bullet between your eyes." He said, and you took a small step towards him.
"Hey, man. We can talk this out. I can give you a job, earn money the clean way, you know?"
"One."
"Man, it didn't have to come to this."
"Two."
"Are you sure you wanna count three?"
"Three."
By the time he had reached three, your training kicked in. You immediately grabbed the man's hand and swiped it to the side, causing him to fire the gun on the ground. You punched him on the face, but it wasn't enough to knock him out. He dropped the gun and got free from your grip and the both of you fought hand to hand. You ended up on the ground, with the robber straddling you. He had his hands around your neck and you struggled against him. From the corner of your eye, you saw the gun lying there, and you reached for it. Once you got a hold of it, you slammed the butt of the gun to your attacker's temple. This got him dazed, and you pushed him off you. You kneeled and fired two shots, each one aiming for his thighs. You straddled him and continued to slam the barrel of the gun to his temple until he passed out. You kneeled there panting as you checked his pulse from the neck, and you sighed in relief as you saw that it was there. You removed the belt of your pants and tied his hands behind him, and tied to belt to a nearby fence. You still felt the adrenaline rushing through your bloods. It had been a long time since you got into a fight. You held the gun in your hands, and the next events happened on pure reflex and adrenaline. You heard a deep voice behind you.
"Are you alright?"
And the next thing you knew, you were pointing the gun at the handsome stranger from awhile ago, with red liquid blooming from his shirt as he dropped dead on the ground.
Don't worry, guys XD Many more chapters to come! :D This scene is inspired by something that has been happening to Richard Armitage in his TV Series a lot XD I watched Strike Back and Berlin Station and in the first episodes, it hasn't even been 10 minutes yet, and he gets shot XD Anyways, this has been Beta'd by Elle Abel. She's a great author, if you're interested in HP fics. Check it out some time, while you're waiting for an update :)
Anyways, I'd love to hear your reactions! And thank you for the lovely reviews you left me!
~Gabrielle
