I’d never escape them, the bastards, the fakes, the violent monsters.
I had to remember who and what I was.
Even if I really, really didn’t want to.7ReidThe light was low in the Smoker’s Daughter as a stream of curses came from the back kitchen. Marlon, the bartender, his long, dark hair pulled back in a pony-tail, his brown eyes wide and smiling, uncorked a bottle of ancient white wine and poured some into Cora’s glass then gave her a wink. He wore a button-down Western shirt and a pair of dark jeans and could’ve been twenty or could’ve been eighty—I was never sure with him. The Daughter wasn’t the type of place people came to drink wine—it was more of a vodka and whiskey kind of bar, with sticky floors, peeling laminate on the tables, soot-and-spot stains on the walls, and the constant stink of old beer permeating the air. Another string of curses cut through the evening and Cora leaned toward me with a frown as she looked toward the back door.
“What’s going on in there?”
I shrugged. “Cook gets annoyed.”
“He sounds like someone’s trying to kill him.”
“Really annoyed.” I leaned my elbows on the bar and craned my neck, trying to catch a glimpse through the small window that looked into the kitchen, but only saw the flash of stainless steel appliances and a glimpse of a fat man in a wife beater.
Cora sipped her wine, made a face, but went back for more. Marlon returned with my whiskey, placed it down in front of me, and nodded as he returned to wiping glasses. The crowd was sparse for a weekday evening after six, but a few old-timers lingered over pints at a table and grunted in Russian at each other. I sipped my drink then placed it down and felt the condensation from the ice roll down my fingertips.
“You still haven’t told me why we’re here.”
I shrugged. “Wanted to show you the place.”
She made a face. “It’s really nice.”
“Smoker’s Daughter was the first business I ever bought.”
“You actually own it?”
“Sure do. My name’s not on the lease, but I own it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
“You know how these things go.”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
“Daughter’s got a kinda special place in my heart.”
Another string of curses then a bell rang. A platter of fries appeared in the window. Marlon grabbed the plate and brought it over, placing it down in front of Cora. He gave her a tight smile and went back to wiping glasses.
She ate a fry and let out a sigh. “At least it’s good.”
“Cook hates doing his job but he’s good at it.”
“Why do you keep calling him Cook?”
“That’s actually his last name, believe it or not.”
She gave a fry one dubious smile then popped it in her mouth. “All right, fair enough.”
I sipped my whiskey and craned my head toward the front door as it opened and two guys walked inside. The first one was tall and rail thin with a busy head of messy straw-colored hair and a lopsided smile. The guy behind him was half his height and built like a bulldog: huge jaw, huge muscles, bald hair, pissed-off glare.
I waved them over. The tall guy sat next to me and leaned onto the bar with one elbow. “How’s it going, boss?”
“Enrico, Aldrik. Thanks for coming.”
“You tell us to jump, we jump,” Aldrik grunted and ran a hand over his smooth head. “This your wife?”
“Boys, meet Cora.”
Cora held up a fry. “Nice to meet you both.”
“She doesn’t mean that,” I said.
Enrico laughed. “Aw, what, we’re not your favorites anymore?”
I nodded at Aldrik. “Sit down, you’re making me nervous.”
He barked a laugh and sat on the other side of Enrico. Marlon came over with beers for each of them and the boys dropped cash on the table as a tip. Me and my guys didn’t pay for drinks in the Daughter, but I made sure they took care of the staff.
“I’m guessing you two know about what happened.”
Aldrik leaned over Enrico. “You want us to hunt them down, boss?”
“Easy there.” I smiled at him, sipped my whiskey.
Enrico pushed Aldrik back. “He’s got a point. We can’t let that stand.”
“I agree with you both, but we need to do a few things first.”
“Like what?” Enrico asked.
“I need you to find where Jarvis has been holed up these last few years.”
“I heard rumors,” Enrico said. “Not sure how good they are, but apparently he’s putting together a crew out west. All Irish guys, you know what I mean? Some white power shit.”
I rolled my eyes. “The Jarvis I knew didn’t go for that sort of shit.”
“Hey, boss, just telling you what I hear.”
“Regardless, I want to know where he’s dealing, who he’s selling to, everything. He came at me hard and I’m not going to hold back.”
“We can do that,” Aldrik said. “No problem. How many guys you want on it?”