Bouncer by Kim Jones Page 0,5

one knows about living with the consequences of taking a life more than me. I know what kind of damage it can do to your soul.

“How’s shit with you?” I fix my eyes on him, letting him know I want the truth. The real fucking truth.

“Better than ever.” He smirks.

“North….”

“Seriously, Bro. I’m good. It wasn’t a job. There’s nothing to regret. Aspen and Halle are my world. I sleep better at night knowing that piece of shit is out of their lives for good. And it feels right that I’m the one who done it.”

Fair enough.

“If you need me, I’m here.”

He claps me on the back. “I know. Come on. You need sleep. You look like shit.”

I shake my head and toss a generous tip on the bar before heading down the hall toward the room that’s always reserved for me.

North stops at the door to the room next to mine. “Church is tomorrow night at ten. You’re welcome to join.”

As a Nomad, I don’t need an invite. But out of respect, I’d never show up without one. “Alright. I’ll be there.” I try to twist the doorknob, but it doesn’t turn. “It’s locked.”

“What the fuck?” North steps up and tries it himself. “It’s locked.”

“No shit.”

He’s not bothered by my annoyance. The asshole probably checked behind me just to be a dick. “Well, maybe there’s a surprise in there for you.”

“I don’t like surprises,” I deadpan.

“I’m kidding. Chaos had one of the girls clean it and told them to lock it up when they finished to keep people out. He knew you’d be pissed about the party, but finding someone fucking in your room would really make you lose your shit.”

I glare at him. He throws his hands up in surrender, that pretty boy smirk of his in place. I wait until he’s in his room before pulling a card from my wallet and popping the lock.

The light from the hall casts a faint glow across the room when I push the door open. It smells good in here. Like blueberries and shit. And something else I can’t quite put my finger on. I do a quick sweep of the room with my eyes, but nothing looks out of place.

I check the closet.

Empty.

Behind the door.

Clear.

The bathroom.

My senses heighten immediately.

Someone’s been in here.

When my hand curls around the Beretta at my back, I stop and take a breath. The scent of bleach still lingers. The fruity smell is probably from whatever that delicious shit is in the bedroom. The shower is wet because it’s recently been cleaned.

Chill the fuck out.

I walk back to the bedroom and push the door shut. The room is dark, but my eyes adjust quickly. I step out of my boots and strip off my clothes, tossing them in the chair next to the bed. My cut is still in the hands of Boots. It’ll be a long night for him, but in a week’s time he’ll forget all about the hell he went through when he puts his own patch on for the first time.

I’m sliding my gun under my pillow when I hear a noise coming from the other side of the bed. Could be a rat. Could be my mind playing tricks on me. But I refuse to drop my guard. I was careless not to check when I first walked in. I won’t make that mistake again.

The only sound in the room is the whisper of my gun as I slide it from beneath the pillow and the click off the safety. My footsteps are silent as I round the foot of the bed. I’m inches away when I hear it again. Only this time, it’s accompanied by a whimper.

I take the final step and still.

There’s a girl on the floor of my room. Her head thrashes back and forth. Her dark hair a mess across her face. Her body tangled in the covers. I stand frozen for a moment, my mind rushing to assess the situation.

There’s no one else in the room.

No one is hurting her.

She makes no move to get up.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.” Her voice is raspy. Like she’s been shouting…screaming.

I know this.

I’ve seen it….

Suffered from it.

Night terrors.

I flip the safety on the gun and move closer. There’s not enough room for me to crouch next to her, so I straddle one of her legs and kneel at her hips. It’s dark, but she’ll still be able to make out my silhouette if she wakes up. I don’t want to