Tooth and Claw by Leigh Dovey

Author:Leigh Dovey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, horror, shark, dark, sea, water
Publisher: Leigh Dovey
Published: 2024-04-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was obvious from its rough, nautical-themed interior, that The Black Cat was a watering hole every bit as predatory as the seas along Sweetwater’s coastline. The bar had very basic wooden furniture, bearing the scars of dozens of raucous bar fights. Pieces of driftwood and upended barrels had been recycled to create the bar's tables and chairs, in a basic, functional way, rather than for a hip effect. Ben eyed the smoke-stained walls draped with fishing nets and decorated with sets of bleached shark jaws; no doubt caught locally. Some insane, old-school jazz was unraveling from the jukebox, as he looked around and found hostile stares from the other patrons of The Black Cat, each drinking in their own isolated pockets around the room.

Ben and Jo followed Crazy and Leyton to the bar. Crazy ordered the drinks, while Ben continued to check out the faces gathered for tonight’s performance. There were about thirty other people in the room, a lot more than Ben would've guessed were still living in Sweetwater. He recognized Olander first, staring at him from a table in the corner where he was sat with his mother. Irma sat alone at another table toying with a sherry, her thick make-up plastered on as always. She flashed him a disturbing grin, which he did his best to return. Then his eyes settled on Henry and Angie Ho. Angie Ho looked at him with obvious contempt, while her husband aimed his gaze in the opposite direction, clearly giving him the cold shoulder. Ben shrugged and turned back to the bar, as Crazy handed him a whiskey. Leyton took his drink from the old man and left without a word. He made a beeline for an aging blonde in the corner who appeared to be dressed for something livelier than this. Ben watched Crazy talk to the serious looking Maori man who was serving behind the bar. The bartender was dressed in ripped punk gear, revealing that he was ripped too. The Maori was covered with biker style piercings and tattoos and generally looked like bad news. Ben looked away. He was starting to feel self-conscious. It wasn’t just that he had the feeling that everyone in the bar was staring at them; he could see that everyone was. It was more that he had the sensation that everyone else might be in on a joke except for him. He held on tightly to Jo and made a point of staring back at the faces scrutinizing them. Crazy leaned towards Ben and raised his glass, toasting it with Ben's, then Jo’s.

“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do,” said Crazy. “So, here’s to us men.”

“And their better halves,” said Jo.

“And their better halves,” repeated Crazy.

The three downed their drinks and thudded the empty glasses on to the bar counter.

“I better make a move,” said Crazy. “I’m due on.”

“Cheer up,” said Ben. “I’m sure you’ll be great.”

Crazy slapped Ben's shoulder. Ben thought he looked awkward again, almost ashamed.

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