No Good Mitchell - Riley Hart Page 0,1

adoptive mom and Isaac hadn’t talked me into it, I probably wouldn’t have.

We drove down Main Street from beginning to end. Right as we were coming out on the other side of town, I heard the thump of music.

“Oooh! Civilization!” Isaac bounced playfully in his seat.

We kept going, and then off to the right was a…well, a fucking barn was what it looked like. They must have remodeled it and turned it into a bar or something.

A shit ton of cars were parked out front—probably everyone from town was there. Fucking country music blasted through the air. People hung around outside, and the large barn doors were open, showing a full house inside as well.

I pulled over and killed the engine.

“Think this is where we come to die?” Isaac asked. “That’s how the movies go. We pull up somewhere, meet a psycho killer, only we don’t know he’s a psycho killer targeting us.”

“Why us?” I played along.

“We’re new faces. Towns like this don’t like new people. I saw this true-crime story once where—”

“Oh my God. No. Don’t. I don’t want to hear small-town horror stories right now. Come on. Let’s get directions and get out of here.”

I climbed out of the car. I felt way too overdressed even though I was only wearing a light-blue polo and a pair of dark jeans.

“We should have bought cowboy boots,” Isaac said, and I rolled my eyes. “Let’s get a drink first. We wanna fit in. This is going to be our new home, after all.”

Maybe…I still wasn’t sure what I planned on doing with the place. Why would I want some consolation prize from my dad, who obviously hadn’t wanted me? I had a life in San Francisco, even if I was out of a job now because an asshole ex-friend had used Isaac and me to get his business running, then ditched us. I could always go back to work for my adoptive father’s financial institute, but I wanted to avoid that. That’s why Isaac and I were playing around with the idea of an investment firm, but that first job for my ex-friend hadn’t worked out so well.

Isaac and I were both really good at what we did. I had a bachelor’s in business, and Isaac had one in marketing, and it just clicked for us. We knew our shit and worked well together, so it made sense when Teddy—the aforementioned ex-friend—approached us to get his startup off the ground. Isaac and I helped him do that, had basically done the work ourselves. Once he had what he needed from us, we’d been expendable.

So yeah, I had time on my hands, but eventually I’d want to get back to California. I’d given myself a month because, well, because I needed a break anyway, and that would give me time to figure out what in the hell to do with Mitchell Creek Distillery and the property.

“One drink,” I agreed. I sure as fuck could use it.

“Hi, hi, hello,” Isaac said to every person we passed. “Howdy,” he added to the last guy before we walked inside.

Howdy? I was sure he’d never said that word in his life. The guy—who was a bear but likely a straight one—looked at Isaac like he was crazy. I couldn’t blame him. “Excuse my friend. We’re just getting him socialized.”

“Fucker.” Isaac chuckled.

Inside, the place was packed. There were two bars, one on each side of the barn, a dance floor, tables, chairs, and… “Are those haystacks?”

“Yes, those are indeed haystacks,” Isaac replied. “We’re not in San Francisco anymore.”

We sure as fuck weren’t.

We made our way to the bar, and Isaac threw out a few more howdies at people. It felt like every eye was on us. There was no question in my mind that we stood out in the crowd—or at least they didn’t recognize us, so they knew we were newbies.

The woman behind the bar had rainbow-colored hair, which I figured had to be a coincidence. She gave us a big smile when we approached, having just finished making a drink for someone else.

“Howdy, ma’am,” Isaac said. I was going to fucking kill him. Still, I bit down on the inside of my cheek so I didn’t laugh.

“Hey…what are two city boys like you doing out here?”

See? I knew they could smell fresh meat.

“How do you know we’re city boys?” Isaac asked her.

“I’m psychic.”

“Ooh! Can you tell me my future? Am I going to meet a Georgian Bear—not the animal kind.”

She laughed, obviously having gotten