CHAPTER 232

MITCH CHESTER

MITCH SWERVED INTO the parking lot and looked at the dilapidated building. It was a low, long old bar. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he thought of how dangerous this was. And he had left without telling anyone anything. He reached for his phone, wanting to call Draco, but he shook his head.

Draco would put on a lot of fuss and spoil everything if he showed up here.

Besides, this shouldn't take long, Mitch thought to himself. He would be back before anyone knew he was gone. He got out of the car and headed to the door with purposeful strides.

He pushed it and went in, looking around and taking in the sorry state of the bar.

The bar was almost empty, except for some leftover drunks from the previous night slumped over their stools and the floor. There was a fat squat man behind the bar, looking bored. Mitch made his way to the counter and sat down carefully on a stool. It was wobbly under his weight.

"How m' I help you?" The man slurred. He sounded almost