"Ty Drago - Shadowself" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drago Ty)

beer. Hookers were relatively common in these shore-town bars. A lot of the young girls
ended up living down here and catching the bus into Wildwood or Atlantic City in the
evenings. He felt a curious affection for Brenda, perhaps born of their mutual lifestyle. There
were wanderers...and outcasts.

"Okay," he said. "Let's get a table."
They settled at one of the small round tables near the bar, as Liam didn't feel comfortable
enough to stray too far from the others. He bought Brenda a beer and, for a few minutes,
they chatted about the weather, the tourist trade, and the high price of booze. Then, as they
settled over their respective drinks, Brenda asked: "You're heading out of town?"

Liam nodded.

"Where to?"
He shrugged. "Don't know. South, I think. Maybe take the ferry to Maryland and head down
into Virginia."

She nodded, as though this sounded like a fine idea. "Trouble...huh?"
"Always," he said.
"Cops?"

Liam shook his head. "No. More personal than that."

"I've been busted twice," Brenda said softly. "Both times I got fined two hundred bucks and a
quick roll with the police chief and a couple of his guys. Other than that I stay clean. No
drugs...no AIDS."
"I told you Brenda," Liam said. "I don't have the cash to spare."

"No no...I'm just talking," she said quickly. "You just seem easy to talk to."
"Do I?"

"What are you running from, Liam?"
He smiled humorlessly and downed the rest of his beer. Then he waved at Abe, who
obediently fetched him a fresh one. "You wouldn't believe me," he told Brenda.
She shrugged. "I knew a guy once who was running from his own father, who was a cop. The
guy was gay and apparently Pop had decided not to suffer "the humiliation", and so had
tried to have his own son killed. The poor kid barely got out of town with his life. So try me,
Liam. You'd be surprised what I can believe."

Liam looked over his beer at her. Should he tell her? How long had it been since he'd told
anyone: a year? Yeah, that kid in the beach-front saloon; the gas pumper who'd seemed so
interested and then had laughed at him and called him a "freakin' loon". It had been then as
it was now: he'd had a couple of beers in him, gnawing away at his common sense.

"If I tell you," he said. "You'll think I'm crazy."
"Maybe," Brenda agreed. "But where's the harm in that?"
Liam nodded, as if this made perfect sense. Then he set down his beer and leaned close to
the girl. "I'm running because I'm afraid," he said softly.

"Who isn't? What are you afraid of?"