Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Get it together.

Tonight is all about having fun with my friends. No stress. No worry. No following creepy feelings that are probably the result of too many vodka tonics. I hold my arms out to my sides and shake my hands, ridding myself of the access energy that’s making me feel all jittery.

I go back out to the main area of the bar, and Kristy pulls me onto the dance floor. Twenty minutes later, I’m hot and sweaty and still haven’t shaken the feeling that something is lurking around the corner, waiting to attack.

There’s a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant across the street from the bar that’s open late, no doubt making a killing from all the drunk people who walk over night after night. I get a hotdog—Chicago style, of course—and a Coke simply for the caffeine. I sit on a bench along the street while I eat, watching people mill in and out of the bar.

I take my time eating, enjoying the little reprieve away from all the people at the bar. When I’m finished, I ball up