Read Online The Messenger (A Lesbian Romance) by K.C. Blake - Free Book Online
Authors: K.C. Blake
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I’d seen the day before had been some kind of mirage. One thing looked familiar, though: the shuffling bartender.
He saw me and there was an amused light in his eyes. I prayed that he would take pity on me and approached the bar.
“Can’t get enough of us, eh, lady?”, he said.
I didn’t know what to say. Could I really ask if he knew where Elena might be? I looked around. He seemed to read my mind.
“Those kids who were here yesterday? They only come around on Wednesdays and Fridays. It’s like they adopted us.”
“How did you know?”, I asked.
He leaned against the bar and looked almost sympathetic.
“I know that look in your eye. You don’t stand on this side of a bar for forty years and not know when someone comes in looking for a girl.”
I’m pretty sure I blushed. If I’d been close to giving up, I would have kept ordering drinks and pouring out my heart to him. He’d known me all of a day and already treated me with more respect than Mitchell ever had. As it was, however, I was only getting started. If she wasn’t here, I had no idea where to look. The thought of giving up crossed my mind, until he said,
“Try messenger alley down on ninth.”
“Messenger alley?”
“Sure, it’s where they all work. Lemmee guess: you’ve never been down there… “
I hadn’t been below sixth street in over twelve years. Twenty years ago, that area was nothing but low-lifes and criminals. I would brave that again if it meant I could see Elena. I thanked him and headed out, making the turn southward before I had a chance to talk myself out of it.
Slowly, the terrain of downtown changed. As I hurried down the street, the buildings went from the shining towers that I was used to, to old bank buildings repurposed into high-end lofts, to small, hip bars housed inside tiny spaces. Although there was no official signage, I knew I’d arrived in Messenger Alley when I saw hip young people lounging at the tiny sidewalk cafes, one foot or hand draped protectively over their scarred and battered bikes. It was as though I’d passed through different levels of a world and had finally arrived at the secret society within.
However, I also knew that I was something of an interloper there; I was one of the people that treated them like office equipment, one of those who saw them as nothing more than a delivery device who summoned them up from the depths when I needed them. Whatever I was going to do here, needed to be done fast. I stopped and assessed the situation. I wasn’t leaving without some kind of lead.
I spotted a familiar girl at one of the cafes. Although she was dressed in a nondescript grey sweatshirt and worn, faded jeans, she was still ultra feminine and very beautiful. She was the girl Elena had kissed in the park that day. I might have been projecting, but to me she looked like she was pining for her, just as I was. Mustering up all my nerve, I approached her.
“Uh… excuse me”, I stammered.
She looked up from her worn paperback novel and looked surprised, as though she thought she might be in trouble for messing up a delivery.
“Yeah?”, she said, wary.
“I’m looking for someone, maybe you know her?” I wanted to add, “She kissed you in the dog park the other day and you looked like you were about to explode in to a million tiny pieces”, but I restrained myself. She just tilted her head as though she couldn’t believe that someone would ask such a stupid question.
“Her name’s Elena. She’s a messenger. She has short black hair, a tattoo of stars on her left hand… “
Her eyebrows shot up.
“Elena?”
“Yes”, I said.
“That’s her name? I only know her as Rabbit.”
She looked sad that she hadn’t already known that. I felt bad for exposing that hole in whatever connection they had, but I was also soaring inside. Apparently her real name was a secret. In my head, I was saying her name over and over again. Elena, Elena,
He saw me and there was an amused light in his eyes. I prayed that he would take pity on me and approached the bar.
“Can’t get enough of us, eh, lady?”, he said.
I didn’t know what to say. Could I really ask if he knew where Elena might be? I looked around. He seemed to read my mind.
“Those kids who were here yesterday? They only come around on Wednesdays and Fridays. It’s like they adopted us.”
“How did you know?”, I asked.
He leaned against the bar and looked almost sympathetic.
“I know that look in your eye. You don’t stand on this side of a bar for forty years and not know when someone comes in looking for a girl.”
I’m pretty sure I blushed. If I’d been close to giving up, I would have kept ordering drinks and pouring out my heart to him. He’d known me all of a day and already treated me with more respect than Mitchell ever had. As it was, however, I was only getting started. If she wasn’t here, I had no idea where to look. The thought of giving up crossed my mind, until he said,
“Try messenger alley down on ninth.”
“Messenger alley?”
“Sure, it’s where they all work. Lemmee guess: you’ve never been down there… “
I hadn’t been below sixth street in over twelve years. Twenty years ago, that area was nothing but low-lifes and criminals. I would brave that again if it meant I could see Elena. I thanked him and headed out, making the turn southward before I had a chance to talk myself out of it.
Slowly, the terrain of downtown changed. As I hurried down the street, the buildings went from the shining towers that I was used to, to old bank buildings repurposed into high-end lofts, to small, hip bars housed inside tiny spaces. Although there was no official signage, I knew I’d arrived in Messenger Alley when I saw hip young people lounging at the tiny sidewalk cafes, one foot or hand draped protectively over their scarred and battered bikes. It was as though I’d passed through different levels of a world and had finally arrived at the secret society within.
However, I also knew that I was something of an interloper there; I was one of the people that treated them like office equipment, one of those who saw them as nothing more than a delivery device who summoned them up from the depths when I needed them. Whatever I was going to do here, needed to be done fast. I stopped and assessed the situation. I wasn’t leaving without some kind of lead.
I spotted a familiar girl at one of the cafes. Although she was dressed in a nondescript grey sweatshirt and worn, faded jeans, she was still ultra feminine and very beautiful. She was the girl Elena had kissed in the park that day. I might have been projecting, but to me she looked like she was pining for her, just as I was. Mustering up all my nerve, I approached her.
“Uh… excuse me”, I stammered.
She looked up from her worn paperback novel and looked surprised, as though she thought she might be in trouble for messing up a delivery.
“Yeah?”, she said, wary.
“I’m looking for someone, maybe you know her?” I wanted to add, “She kissed you in the dog park the other day and you looked like you were about to explode in to a million tiny pieces”, but I restrained myself. She just tilted her head as though she couldn’t believe that someone would ask such a stupid question.
“Her name’s Elena. She’s a messenger. She has short black hair, a tattoo of stars on her left hand… “
Her eyebrows shot up.
“Elena?”
“Yes”, I said.
“That’s her name? I only know her as Rabbit.”
She looked sad that she hadn’t already known that. I felt bad for exposing that hole in whatever connection they had, but I was also soaring inside. Apparently her real name was a secret. In my head, I was saying her name over and over again. Elena, Elena,
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