Chapter 10 structure :
Behind him, the apartment door opened .
Christian kept walking.
Normal pace. Normal posture.
Just another tenant leaving for the night.
He passed two people in the stairwell. Nodded once. They didn't look twice.
He reached the street.
Cold air. Traffic sounds. The city pretending nothing had changed.
Christian walked three blocks before the feeling hit him.
Eyes.
Not specific. Not a person he could point to.
Just the weight of being seen.
He turned a corner. Then another.
The feeling didn't leave.
—-—--------------
The bar wasn't busy.
A few regulars at the counter. One couple in a booth. Television on mute in the corner.
The door opened.
Christian didn't look up immediately.
Then he heard the leather.
The scrape of boots on tile.
He glanced toward the entrance.
One of the bikers from Emdy's building.
Not the same one who'd gone inside. But same gang. Same jacket.
The biker scanned the room.
Slow. Methodical.
Christian's hand tightened on his glass.
The biker's eyes landed on him.
Stopped.
Christian didn't move.
The bartender stepped forward. Casual. Unhurried.
"We're closing," he said.
The biker didn't look at him. "I'm looking for someone."
"Not here," the bartender said. Firm. "And fighting's bad for business."
A pause.
The biker looked at the bartender. Then back at Christian.
Then turned and left.
The door closed.
Christian exhaled.
The bartender refilled his glass without asking.
"Why didn't you—" Christian started.
"Turn you over?" The bartender shrugged. "You haven't paid yet, sucker."
He smiled. Not warm. Just amused.
"Can't have you die before settling your tab."
Christian almost laughed.
Almost.
"How much do I owe you?"
"Twelve bucks." The bartender wiped the counter. "But you should probably finish that drink somewhere else. That guy's not gonna forget your face."