Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
“Do you ever shut up?” Dirty Hands snarled.
Glass Eye had turned to look at me, his eyes distant. “A lady late at night you say?” He leaned sideways on the table. “I’ll be damned—I saw that woman. She was trying to get into town. Stopped at the gate. She must’ve run in after me. Fuck.” He slapped the table. “I wish I’d fucking known. I could’ve grabbed her myself. She was saucy. I did think it was strange that she’d show up in the middle of the night, on foot, no less. She said her horse was lame or something.” He scratched his chin and sighed. “A huge payday was right in front of me and I fucking missed it.”
“Yeah, well.” Dirty Hands gave me a sour look before re-focusing on Glass Eye. “You’re probably better off. You don’t need to deal with the organization any more than you already do.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “They’re cutthroat. It’s all great if things are going well, but when they go wrong?” His eyebrow arched and he drew his finger across this throat. “Believe me. Be happy the town watch is handling this.”
“I coulda used that payday,” Glass Eye mumbled. “You’re probably right, though.”
“I coulda used someone to play with my pecker,” I muttered, slouching over my ale. “Think they’re letting in visitors?”
“Weren’t you just sitting with a lady?” Glass Eye asked, turning his chair a little so that he could better see me.
I shrugged. “She’s into girls.”
Dirty Hands huffed out a laugh. “She’s probably just telling you that because she don’t want what you got.” He drained his pint.
I smirked and dipped my head in agreement. “Quite possible. She’s prickly, too. But that woman last night sure seemed nice.”
“She just looked nice. She was saucy, I’ll tell you what,” Glass Eye said, his grin exposing some gaps in his teeth.
“I might be up for a little sass . . .” I waggled my eyebrows at him.
He laughed and grabbed Dirty Hands’ empty pint, standing up and heading to the bar.
“What do you think, are they loaning her out?” I gave Dirty Hands a comical grin, letting him know I was mostly joking.
“Fat fucking chance.”
I laughed. “Yeah.” I took a sip of my ale, it was running out fast. I couldn’t break the conversation, though. Dirty Hands was looking to shove me out. If I left to refill, I might return to a stone wall. “Fucking in a prison would probably be a dick shriveler, anyway.”
“I could handle a prison if everyone cleared out.” Dirty Hands leaned forward onto his elbows, watching his friend buy more ale. He was chatting to pass the time. Suited me just fine. We were getting somewhere fast. “No fucking way would they keep that woman there, though. Are you kidding? They wouldn’t be able to keep the addicts off her.”
“What’d they do, shove her in a basement?” I scratched my chest and then my head, like I had fleas, before looking off toward the right in feigned boredom.
“Nicer than that. She gets to stay in the mayor’s guest room. Only the best for Granny’s prized snack box creator, right? And since it was his watch that found her, he’s going to cash in that reward.”
“No,” I said, my heart beating faster. I had the location. Time to go. I just had to get out without raising suspicion. “He’s not going to give the guy who spotted her, or the ones who brought her in, a little something for their trouble?”
He snickered. “Not fucking likely. Mayor Brightwater is a tight-fisted bastard.”
I tsked, staying otherwise quiet as Glass Eye sat down with the refreshed pints.
“What’s that fucking barman’s problem?” Glass Eye asked Dirty Hands. “He’s surlier and surlier every time I come into this damn place.”
“You’re telling me.” Dirty Hands scooted his chair closer to the table and leaned in, effectively cutting me out of the conversation.
He kept talking about the barman and I drummed the table a little, trying my best to look bored. With a loud sigh, like I was hoping someone would talk to me, I finished my drink and returned my tankard.
“Another?” the barman asked.
“Nah. Maybe later. I gotta actually do a little work. You gonna have a live show or anything tonight?”
“Not tonight. Tomorrow. The regular guy went missing. Probably junked up in an alleyway somewhere. He was always fond of the drink and whatever else he could get his hands on. I got a new guy starting tomorrow.”
“Pity.” I knocked on the bar and turned to exit the tavern via the street exit, every single movement calculated. The most important thing was to avoid any sort of suspicion. Once on the street again, I ambled for a while, just in case someone had followed me out. There was no sign of Nova.