Laurel was tired. She leaned heavily against the bar, waiting for her drink order to come up. She surveyed the crowd with weary eyes and rubbed her forehead. She ran a hand through her long, blonde curls as the bartender set her order on the tray in front of her with a wink.
"You okay?" he asked with genuine concern.
She nodded. "Yeah, Steve. I'm getting a headache."
"One of those headaches?" He was used to Laurel 's headaches. They came on once or twice a month and she was out of commission for a few days.
"Might be. Could just be sinuses." She raised the small tray over her head and made her way out into the bar. The bar was very crowed tonight, even more than usual for a Friday. She wound her way through the people and the occasional groping hand to one of the small tables in the back near the pool tables.
"Sorry that took so long," she said with a bright smile she didn't feel. "Steve's really busy tonight."
Her customers were regulars and they nodded in understanding. "He should really hire some help," the female customer said.
"I keep trying, but he says he can do everything himself." Laurel placed the drinks on the table. "Anything else?"
The man shook his head. "We're good for now. Thanks."
She nodded and tucked her tray under her arm as she headed back up to the bar. Steve was leaning against the bar and he looked her over as she approached.
"Kid, you look like shit."
She raised an eyebrow. "I love you too, Steve."
"I mean it. Bullshit that is a sinus headache. You need to go home and hibernate away from people for a few days," he told her.
"You can't afford to let me have a few days off. Not on the weekend." She gestured at the throngs of people in the bar.
He shook his head. "Get out of here or I'll fire you." He pointed toward the door.
She laughed. "You won't fire me, Steve. I'm your best waitress."
Steve glared at her. "I mean it. I'll call Donna and she'll be happy to help out. Now get out of here."
Shaking her head, Laurel gave a big sigh and untied her apron. She pulled her tips out of the pocket and shoved them into the pocket of her jeans. Reaching back behind the bar, she retrieved her purse and car keys. "Thanks, Steve."
He nodded gruffly. "Go on. I don't want to see you at least until Tuesday."
She smiled. "Yes, sir." She snapped him a salute and pushed her way to the door. Laurel gave a quick wave to Dean, Steve's brother and the bar's bouncer, and jogged around the corner to the parking lot. Her car was parked in the farthest corner of the lot, but Steve made sure the whole lot was well lit. Still, she didn't see the mugger until he was almost upon her.
"Gimme your money." He had a gun in his hand, pointed straight at her.
She raised an eyebrow at him. Just after she had moved here, a man had attacked her when she was coming home from the grocery store. He ended up in the intensive care unit of the local hospital and none of the local thugs had ever bothered her again. "You must be new here."
"What? Listen, bitch, just shut up and give me the money I saw you shove in your pocket." He gestured at her pocket with gun.
"No." Her voice was quiet. Her eyes flashed and the mugger shook his head. It looked for a moment like her eyes were glowing.
"Hey, what's going on back here?" Dean's voice preceded his running footsteps. When the mugger turned to look at Dean, Laurel swung her purse and hit him on the back of the head. He crumpled to the ground.
Dean looked at her in surprise. "What the hell do you have in there, Laur?"
"Rolled coins from my tips. I haven't gotten to the bank yet." She grinned.
He shook his head and prodded the collapsed man with his foot. "I'll take care of this loser. Go home. If the sheriff needs to talk to you, I'll send him to your place."
"Okay. Thanks, Dean." She headed for her car. He nodded and knelt down next to the man. Laurel got into her car and started it up. For a moment, she just sat there, her head back on the headrest. Taking a deep breath, she put the car into gear and drove home.
Home was the King's Inn , a long term motel down the street from the bar. She pulled into a spot in front of her building and wearily climbed the stairs to her room.
Her room was surprisingly large for that kind of place. There was a kitchenette with a table and chairs at one end and an easy chair near the TV. Her bathroom was small and the amenities were not Ritz-Carlton caliber, but Laurel didn't expect much from a place called the King's Inn .
She hung the do not disturb sign on the outside of her door and locked all the locks. She dug the money out of her pocket and dropped it on the kitchen table, next to her purse, without counting it. Her head was really starting to pound and she knew if she didn't take something soon, she'd be in big trouble.
Laurel stripped as she headed for the bathroom. Opening the cosmetics bag that sat on the back of the toilet, she found the prescription bottle. She opened it and spilled out two pills into her hand. She swallowed them with water before taking a quick shower. The medicine was starting to work as she climbed out of the shower and she just had time to throw on a t-shirt and underwear before collapsing on the bed, unconscious.