Meeting The De Luca's

95 1 1
                                    

×BLAKE×

With the cloth in my hand, I wiped down the bar top while keeping my eyes on the door.
The regulars were streaming in, which was fine, but the newcomers who occupied the corner table held my attention.
There was something off about them. And if there was one thing I had learned in my years of owning the bar, it was to trust my gut feeling about people.
There were four of them; one with a mean snarl on his face and an even meaner-looking scar across his eye, his dark hair was messy and he looked annoyed. The other was younger but his face had similar features to the first, indicating they were related. The third had lighter hair than the first two, and his eyes held more kindness. The fourth looked very nervous, sweat beading upon his creased brow while he nervously toyed with the edge of the table.
"Have they ordered?" I asked Lizzy, one of my bartenders.
Her eyes lingered on the table of newcomers, "Not yet. Want me to get it?" She asked with a twinkle in her eye. She always had a thing for the dangerous ones.
I shook my head, "No. I'll get this one." I didn't trust them at all.
Handing her the cloth, I made my way over to their table.
"Hello, Gentlemen. Ready to order?" My eyes met with the eyes of the older of the four. The one with the scar. His eyes were dark and a shiver ran up my spine. His jaw and cheekbones were prominent, the scar did nothing to take away from his good looks.
But the shiver I got wasn't due to his good looks. It was because he had an evil energy about him. Now that I was closer, I could see the halo tattoo on his neck, tattooed wings poked out from the top of his shirt.
He looked at me, void of any emotion, "For whiskeys. Double."
I nodded, "Great choice." I returned to the bar and got the glasses ready, my eyes darting over to their table every so often. My spidey senses were tingling.
They were up to no good, that was obvious.

As the night went on, the bar filled up and I became too busy to keep an eye on the four newcomers. But as I stood behind the bar, I realized that a fifth participant had joined their table. And the guy looked like he was about to pee himself. I could see him shaking.
But before I had a chance to go over and inspect, Lizzy came over, "Blake, Jordan's in the back."
"In the back? Why?" I looked at her, baffled. Jordan was my on-off boyfriend of a few years. He normally walked in as if he owned the place. It made no sense to me that he would be in the back.
Lizzy shrugged, "I have no idea, but he's in there."
I groaned in annoyance and went into the back, my office which led to the back parking lot.
"What are you doing?!" I shouted as I took in the sight before me. Jordan was on his knees banging the metal safe against the floor.
He looked up with panic in his eyes, "Blake, I need help. I'm desperate."
I frowned, my eyes going to the safe, "I can see that. What are you doing?" I repeated. Jordan was a lot of things, but I had never pegged him as a thief.
He got to his feet, forgetting the safe, "I need money. Lots of it."
"Why?" Was all I could muster. The look of fear in his eyes worried me.
"I messed up. I owe bad people money. If I don't pay them I'm going to end up dead."
I ran a hand through my hair trying to process what he was telling me, "So you got yourself into shit, and you're trying to steal from me to get out of it?"
"No. Borrow, not steal. They'll kill me if I don't pay them."
"Who are they?"
"Saint. Saint De Luca."
My face screwed up in confusion, "I don't know these people."
"The fucking mafia, Blake!" He screamed at me.
"Well, with a name like Saint, I wouldn't worry you much. I'm not giving you money, Jordan."
"Please," he gripped my hands, tears forming in his eyes, "I just need to get them off my back. I'm begging you."
The door swung open and I met Lizzy's panicked gaze.
"What is it?"
"Those guys are getting a little rough. They smacked the one into the table."
"Shit," I turned to Jordan, "Stay." I stormed out on a mission. I owned the bar since I was twenty-one, and I refused to allow this behavior.
I walked over to the table, "What the hell is going on here? I don't allow this behavior in my bar."
The last of the men to arrive had blood running from his nose.
The man with the scar reached into his pocket and produced a wallet, throwing a few hundred on the table, "I'm sure this will change your mind."
I raised a brow, "Well, you're wrong. Get out."
He looked at me in amusement, "Make me."
I smiled, I couldn't believe he was tempting me. I hated men like these.
Turning to go and get my weapon, I motioned to Lizzy, she knew my signals. I was asking her to get everyone to leave.
I retrieved my metal bat from behind the bar and marched back toward the table while Lizzy was herding the rest of the people out.
"I'm telling you for the last time, get out of my bar. Or I'll beat the shit out of you and report you for what you've done to this poor guy."
The younger one who seemed to be related to Scar Face winked, "I like her. Can I make her my pet?" He slapped me hard on the ass.
"That's it!" I swung the bat into his face, making him tumble over backward in the chair.
Lizzy yelped in surprise. She knew how I was.
The two men who looked scared out of their minds jumped out of their seats while I used the bat to hit the third man.
I was just about to swing for the man with the scar when he got to his feet and snatched the bat away from me, throwing it across the room.
I threw a punch, not caring that he was towering over me.
When my fist connected with his face, I expected more of a reaction. But instead, he smiled sadistically, his tongue darting out to lick the blood from his lip. If I wasn't filled with fear, I might have admitted how hot he looked.
He reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun, aiming it straight at the man with the bleeding nose.

Entangled With the Mafia Where stories live. Discover now