VI
Running with the Night
Considered Ugliness
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V
Hardin’s waitress left, moving to the far corner of the bar to exchange words with this dark greasy-haired man, to attempt to calm him, but from what he could see, without much success. Their talk murmured low. If he couldn’t distinguish the words, he could tell it was troubled, angry talk, and that she was afraid of him.
He’d hit her. Their interaction had that dynamic. Hardin tried to concentrate on his coffee. Their problems were none of his business.
“You slut.” The young man gripped her arm over the counter and twisted, forcing it flat to the counter, hard enough to bruise.
“I told you, Sully. It’s over.”
“It’s over when I say it’s over.”
Hardin looked at the squat, powerfully built young man through dead eyes. If he was a bit fleshy, he was thirty years younger. No way would he want to go toe-to-toe with a man of that much energy. That’d cost him. At his age every good hit he’d take would stay with him for the rest of his life, and he’d be reminded of it every time he stepped out into the cold. He needed to low-key this. Last thing he needed was to catch the attention of the authorities. It was none of his affair, but why did the little son…
