Love & Bullets: Chapter 2

The second chapter of the year’s most epic noir novel.

(New to this? Check out Chapter 1 here.)

Two pints of cheap beer and a shot of engine-cleaner whiskey into his night, Bill found himself less mordant than earlier. The bartender had something to do with his newfound cheer. Raven-haired and dark-eyed, dressed for tips in a pair of tight jeans and a sleeveless shirt, she managed to give as good as she got from the lousy drunks crowding the bar. It was a pleasure to watch her work.

Bill figured the bartender had a lot more patience than he did. If working here meant having to listen to the same annoying pop-country songs on the jukebox over and over and over again, he would have burned the place to the ground a long time ago.

“You’re sure patriotic around here,” Bill told the bartender, after she finished helping a blind-drunk customer find his dentures on the sticky floor. He pointed to the red, white, and blue paper bunting draped around every window, along with the giant papier-mâché head of George Washington gazing sternly from atop the liquor shelves.

“The Fourth’s coming up, we always do a big party,” she said. “As if people need an excuse to get smashed. Just look at Gareth over there, the guy I just helped? He’s a billion years old, won’t buy teeth that…