Just a City Boy (Midnight Train Series) by V. L. Holt Read Free Book Online

Dave had been nice. He’d gotten some stability, some idea that he might be able to settle down and have some normal in his life. His panic attack that drove him to harm his friend…he paused. Dave had called him his ‘best buddy’. Zack swallowed a painful lump. His panic attack that drove him to harm Dave could never happen again. He couldn’t put people in danger.
    He would go back to that hostel place and see about saving enough money for the plane ticket. Guys like him might choose to hitchhike back to Maryland, but he couldn’t risk it. He’d been in jail too many times in his youth to get away with hitchhiking. The mostly harmless way to get around wasn’t so harmless as soon as police found out you were a jailbird. They were much harsher at that point.
    No, he needed to fly. That was going to be bad enough. But a bus was out of the question.
    He’d get another job clearing tables or maybe bouncing at a bar. He was going to make it this time. He fingered the business card that was soft as velvet from his many times caressing it in his pocket. He could do it. He would do it.
    He walked on and on, found the hostel with its dingy walls and overheated rooms and overpopulation of hipsters and got settled.
    Now he needed to find another job. He was bussing tables at a sports bar a few days a week, but it wasn’t enough and he hated the environment.
    He was tough enough that he could work as a bouncer. It meant late nights, but he usually stayed awake nights anyway, trying to get the visions and noises out of his head.
    The first couple places he walked to were full. The last guy he talked to suggested a lounge called “Lonely Nights”. He thought they might need a guy.
    Backpack over his shoulder, Zack found the place. The concrete block building was painted all black. It was a one story building with a flat roof and had no windows. At first glance, it could almost be a nudie bar, but the sign was free of the usual terms like ‘live girls’ or ‘lap dances’. He walked in to a dim lit interior, scanned the large room and the dais with a grand piano on it, the scattered tables and chairs, and the long glossy bar with the jeweled glasses lining the wall.
    A person came out of a back room. It was a petite woman with black hair and eyes, a tight-fitting pink sweater and a scarf tied fifties style around her neck.
    “Hiya Boss, what can I do you for?” She asked him.
    He couldn’t tell her age, but the military trained him that ma’am would do.
    “Ma’am I’m here to see if you need a bouncer. I can start right away,” Zack told her. He was prepared to show his military ID, but he didn’t have a resume to speak of. People had the tendency to turn tail and run as soon as he lifted his shirt to show the hideous scar on his side.
    She sized him up.
    “Ex-military?” She asked him.
    He nodded. “Army Ranger,” he said.
    She smiled.
    “You’ll do just fine. My last guy failed his drug test. Yes, I do random drug testing, call me a prude. Actually, don’t call me a prude. Call me Brenda,” she stuck her small hand out and he shook it, mindful not to crush her bones in his grip.
    “If I may ask, how could you tell I was ex-military?” he asked her. This was starting to bug him. First Lauren, now Brenda.
    “Your posture. Okay, come on back and we’ll get your first drug test done. No time like the present,” she announced and walked away, obviously expecting him to follow.
    Imagine that. He was gainfully employed only a day after making one of the dumbest mistakes of his life. Drug tests didn’t worry him. He was clean as a whistle. Another thing the army had done for him.
    He looked around the place as he walked the long hallway. Framed posters of the black and white movie greats lined the deep purple walls. Elegant wall sconces cast long shadows on unmarked doors. The last door proved to be the office where he signed paperwork. She made copies of his ID and held up a cup.
    “Bathroom’s across