Wes grins at you and jerks his head toward the doorway that leads into the back room. It's behind the bar, so you slide off your stool and, leaving your notebook and messenger bag behind, you go around the bar to meet him.

He takes your hand. He's much taller than you, so you find yourself looking up at him as he says, "My afternoon just took a turn for the better."

"Mine too," you reply, hoping your tone sounds sultry and not just tipsy.

He gently pulls you through the doorway and into a short passageway. Through the passage is a storage room. There's a refrigerator, a freezer, and boxes of different types of liquor and cases of beer. There's also a vacuum cleaner, a broom, and other things a small-town bar needs to keep running. Against the wall toward the back is a high cabinet like the kind of thing you'd see in a garage.

You're still looking around when Wes pushes you abruptly up against the wall.

You look up at him as he slides one hand up your shoulder and around the back of your neck. He's leaning in to kiss you, and your eyes drop closed of their own accord. When his lips touch yours, a thrill races through you...

...and then you feel something cold and flat resting against the side of your neck.

Your eyes snap open. You pull back from the kiss, but before your mouth parts from Wes's, he's smiling against your lips. He looks down at you, his expression darkly amused.

"Darlin', you are not the sharpest," he whispers. "But don't worry. I've got sharp covered."

"What..." The pleasant effects of the two beers you had seems to be gone in an instant. You realize he has a knife against your neck—the same knife, in fact, that he was using to slice his lemons just a little while ago. "No. Wes. No."

"You're gonna come with me quiet and slow," he says, "and we're gonna see how easy you are to slice."

If he thinks you're going down without a fight, he's got another thing coming. [[Go to Chapter 39.]]

There's no arguing with a knife against your throat. You do what he says. [[Go to Chapter 41.]]