Charleston Past Midnight

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Authors: Christine Edwards
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Paranormal
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was capable of emotion. Are you certain this girl is worth the hell you’re about to put yourself through on her behalf?”
    “I have no doubts whatsoever.”
    He stares at me for several seconds and then nods slowly before saying, “Then we keep the human away from him. Are we all in agreement?”
    “Fuck yeah,” Case says cockily.
    “You know it,” Alina chimes in.
    Ambrose’s hand claps down on my shoulder “We’ve got you covered, brother. Now let’s get the hell outta here. This place always did give me the fucking creeps.”

 
    Chapter Nine
    Present Day, Midnight
    Poco Loco’s, Downtown Charleston
    “H ey, babe! Can we get another bucket of Corona’s and a refill on the chips? Oh, and a few more limes too, darlin’.”
    “Sure.” The large group of college guys have been here for well over three hours. They’ve already rung up close to a two hundred dollar tab in food, shots, and beer.
    I hope they’re good for it.
    They are my last table of the night. The hostess stopped seating tables nearly an hour ago, and my boss—greedy bastard that he is—often keeps the place running past normal closing hours as long as the customers are buying. Come to think of it, I don’t really blame him, but he can be overly demanding. I’ve been here since eleven this morning and was supposed to get off at five. Thanks to a no-show waitress, here I am, shoving twelve Coronas into a pail full of ice at midnight. These guys had better tip. At least they are semi-polite.
    Kiana closed out and waited around for me for over an hour before I told her to head on home. She’s working in the morning, and there’s no need for both of us to be trapped here. She was concerned about me driving home alone and made me promise to text her before I parked the car so that she could come out onto the porch to watch me walk up.
    It’s true, our neighborhood is righteously awful but the worst that has ever happened to us are the relentless cat calls from the unemployed losers who seem to live on their front porches, hitting their bongs 24/7. Still, if we want to keep our heads above water with our school loans, the cheap little place is the best option. We’ve scoured the listings in the past and in a nice area, anything comparable would run at least triple what we are paying our landlord. We’ve nearly saved enough to have an alarm system installed, which would definitely help us both sleep better at night.
    Still … Severin’s stern warning, and more importantly my promise to him to stay in at night, keeps echoing in a repetitive loop in my mind. He would be so pissed if he found out that I defied him. I feel badly about breaking my promise, but it’s not like I have a choice. If I told my boss ‘No’ I would be looking for a new job. Immediately. And that’s not an option.
    I drop the beer and chips and cup of sliced limes on the weathered wooden table on the back patio and say in a friendly voice, “Afraid this is it, guys. We’re closing down. Gonna have to move the party elsewhere once you finish up.”
    There is a general grumbling as each guy reaches out to snag a frosty longneck.
    The one wearing a purple polo speaks up, “Hey, didn’t we have an econ class together last semester?”
    I look him over, trying to remember. “I think so. Enjoy your beer.” I give him a pleasant smile and walk away to start cleaning down my inside tables. I have a clear rule; I never date guys I meet at work. Most are half drunk when they ask for my digits anyhow. So not charming.
    * * *
    I’ve just finished cashing out my tips and am almost to the back door when my boss calls out, “Hey, thanks for staying on for the second shift, Calla. Bucket night is always slammin’. Enjoy your next few days off. You’ve earned ’em.”
    “Thanks, Johnny. See you Thursday.”
    “All right, sounds good. Drive safe.”
    I nod once and push open the back door that leads to a three-car parking area sandwiched tightly between two brick

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