A Choice to Die: an addictive crime mystery full of twists by Jasper Stone

Author:Jasper Stone [Stone, Jasper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stone Books
Published: 2023-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

12

I felt ripped off, like a neophyte dragged down by my own immaturity and raw pride. Unknown phone numbers flashed on my cell phone display. Unfortunately, none of them belonged to Patricia. I hadn’t been able to get her attention, not even to remind me of how pathetic I was.

My days at the newspaper were numbered. I must admit, I couldn’t blame what I did on the alcohol; it came from within me. I can say that today, but it took me years to accept it. The alcohol was just fuel for an engine waiting to be started. And I got carried away, like that day the news was published and the walls of my apartment became bleachers in the stadium. I grabbed the keys, ran downstairs and melted into the neighborhood, to loose myself in the dark bars and their intriguing company. There I was, before the sunset, wandering in Labradores St., looking for friendship and laughter. Desden Bar was always a good place to get drunk without being questioned about it. The modern waiters served drinks and only asked if you had change. It had been ages since Alicante’s scene had become a musical brothel where rock and roll had since fallen out of fashion and talk of politics had once again become trendy. I left the beers and went to the Mono Bar, a dark and diverse hole, both because of its music and the way people dressed. There were mostly men who seemed to have seen everything. The cradle of rock, of bad boys who weren’t that bad anymore. The Barrio was a trench where I could hide when I didn’t want Castaños’ damsels to see me.

The evening connected with the night and drinks were served as my wallet spit out bills. Drunk and with a heavy head, I decided to take a walk towards the port. I crossed over Explanada Promenade and headed for the dock that took me to the night clubs by the navy port and to Alicant’s Mediterranean Casino, a house of horrors with colorful lights that reminded of an old-fashioned brothel district. When I reached the entrance, I got rid of a few flier distributers who accosted me without success and walked to a burger joint that had been there for ages, feeding university students on their way home from a night out.

I bought a burger with a fried egg, bacon and fries and a can of Mahou and I sat down at one of the metal tables on the terrace. It smelled like fried oil, stale salty air and tar coming off the ships.

People watched me, the night had just started, although it looked as if it was over for me. I felt like one of those tourists from the north with changed schedules and distorted ideas. I’d had a bad day and feared someone might recognize me, but that wasn’t a good reason to be judged and looked down upon like the people around there did.

Then, a girl approached me.

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