“Are you ready?” I asked, taking one last look at where the new victim was.

“Let’s go,” she said and started walking off in the direction of the pub.

15. Lenny

15

LENNY

Stone navigated us to the High Tide Pub in minimal time. There was no doubt in my head the man was a genius, the only person I knew able to navigate these roads in record time. I would’ve found myself wandering up and down them until I happened upon the pub.

You’ve lived here three years. Get it together.

There were a few patrons inside when we arrived. My heart was already racing, and I recognized the interior of the place. Very little had changed in three years. There was the same smell of pub food and sticky alcohol, the dim lighting, the low music playing over the old speakers.

Stone led me to a high top table with two chairs. He pulled out mine before taking his own. I wasn’t sure who looked more anxious—myself or him. He kept glancing over to the bar with bottles of liquor lined behind it.

Shit.

I kicked myself, remembering what he told me. Stone didn’t drink. And now, because of me, we had to sit in the center of place revolved around drinking. I wasn’t sure what the story was, but I got the sense he didn’t stop drinking just because he chose to.

The waitress came over and asked if we wanted anything. Before I could answer to order just a water, Stone whispered, “What did you get that night?”

Instantly, I was transported back three years prior. I was pregnant, so I knew I didn’t drink any of the alcohol behind the bar.

“Can I do a club soda with lime?” I asked. “And a side of fries.”

She looked at Stone, waiting for his order, and he requested the same drink.

“Fries?” he said and eyed me.

“It was a pregnancy craving,” I admitted, and I watched his face fall a little, only for a second, before smiling gently at me.

“I’m here every step of the way,” he reminded me.

I took a deep breath while we waited quietly for the waitress to return. The pub wasn’t busy, and it didn’t take long before she carried over a basket of fries and our two drinks.

Stone scrolled through his phone while I nervously sipped. His eyes barely flicked up to me every few minutes.

“Now what?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.

“A colleague sent me information about this place,” he answered. “I didn’t have time to comb through it until now.”

“Anything helpful?” I asked, raising a brow.

The conversation helped. It distracted me from focusing on my surroundings, the way the place made my skin crawl.