Chapter 2 – Liquid Courage and Empty Pockets

Elise left the hospital without looking back at the black car. She walked until her legs hurt. The streets blurred past her. She needed something to quiet the noise in her head—the loan shark’s voice, the hospital number, the eviction text.

She pushed open the door of a bar she had never been to before. The place was half full. Music played low. She found an empty stool at the counter and sat down.

The bartender came over. He was older, with a tired face.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

He poured it and set the glass in front of her. Elise wrapped her fingers around it and drank. The burn hit her throat hard. She ordered a second one before the first was gone.

By the third glass her shoulders loosened a little. The sharp edges of the day softened. She stared at the dark liquid and spoke without looking up.

“My sister is in a coma,” she said. “Hospital wants more money. Landlord wants the rent. Some guy on the phone wants everything else.”

The bartender wiped the counter. “Sounds like a rough night.”

“Every night is rough.”

She ordered a fourth. He poured it slower this time.

“You paying as you go?” he asked.

Elise reached for her bag and checked the small cash she had left from the last hospital payment. It was not enough. She knew it. She still ordered the drink.

When the glass sat empty she pushed it forward.

“Another.”

The bartender shook his head. “Tab’s open. You need to settle first.”

Elise’s face heated. “I don’t have it all right now. I can come back tomorrow.”

“That’s not how it works here.” He leaned on the counter. “I can call someone to walk you out, or you can work it off. We need an extra pair of hands tonight. Tray service. You carry drinks, you clear tables, you smile. End of the shift the tab is gone. Your choice.”

Elise looked at the door, then back at him. Her hands rested flat on the counter so they would not shake.

“I’ll take the tray,” she said.

He nodded and pointed to a side door. “Apron and tray are back there. Black shirt if you have one. If not, just keep the top you have. Don’t drop anything. Don’t argue with customers.”

Elise stood and walked to the back. The apron felt stiff when she tied it. The tray was heavier than it looked. She stepped out onto the floor and started collecting empty glasses from the nearest tables.

The first hour passed in a blur of orders and sticky tabletops. She kept her head down and moved fast. A few men watched her. She ignored them.

Then a group of three at a corner table waved her over.

“Hey, blonde,” one of them said. “Another round. And come sit for a minute.”

Elise set the drinks down carefully. “I can’t sit. I’m working.”

The man closest to her reached out and put his hand on her waist. His fingers pressed into her side.

“You look like you need a break,” he said. “We can help with that tab if you’re nice.”

Elise stepped back. His hand slid away. “I’m fine. Enjoy the drinks.”

She turned to leave. Another hand caught the edge of her apron and tugged.

“Don’t be like that,” the second man said. “Show us a little something. Just a quick look. We’ll cover whatever you owe and more.”

Elise’s pulse kicked hard. She pulled the apron free and kept her voice steady. “I’m not doing that. Order something else or I’m moving on.”

The third man laughed. “Feisty. I like that. Come on. Flash us and the night gets easier for you.”

She felt heat rise in her face and lower, unwanted, as their eyes moved over her chest and hips. Her body reacted even while her mind pushed back. She hated it. She forced herself to turn away and walk to the next table.

For the next twenty minutes she stayed on the opposite side of the room. The tray grew heavier. Her feet hurt. Every time she glanced toward the corner the three men were still watching.

One of them finally stood and walked toward her while she cleared a high-top.

“You left us hanging,” he said. He stepped close enough that his chest almost touched her shoulder. “We’re not asking for much. Just a little view. Help us help you.”

Elise kept her eyes on the glasses. “I said no.”

His hand settled on her lower back, then slid lower. She froze for half a second. The contact sent a shock through her that she did not want. She shoved his arm away hard.

“Don’t touch me again.”

He raised both hands but smiled. “All right. Message received. For now.”

She carried the tray back to the bar. The bartender glanced at her face.

“You good?” he asked.

“I’m working the tab off. That’s all.”

He shrugged and turned back to the register.

Elise returned to the floor. The three men had moved closer to the center of the room. They tracked her as she passed. One of them muttered something that made the others laugh. She kept walking.

A different customer called her over for a beer. She delivered it without looking at him longer than necessary. When she turned, one of the original three was right behind her.

His hand landed on her ass and squeezed hard enough to leave a mark.

Elise’s breath stopped. Heat flooded low in her belly even as anger rose in her throat. She spun and pushed at his chest.

He didn’t move back. His friends stepped closer, boxing her in against the edge of a table.

“Show us the goods, blonde,” he said, voice low and rough. “And we’ll cover the tab… and then some.”