“You think you own this fucking place?” he said. “Move your fucking car.”
“You must not be from around here,” Cilla shot back. “If you were, you wouldn’t be standing so close to this car. Actually, I think your ass would be inside right now, minding your own business. You know. Getting your rocks off.”
“I don’t need to be from around here,” he said, showing her some tattoo on his neck, like it meant something. “Now move your fucking car or I’ll do it.”
“Make us,” she said, her voice getting even louder. “Bye, bye, now.” She went to roll up the window, but the guy grabbed it and started pulling down.
It was making a weird noise, and I could’ve sworn average guy was of superhuman strength and was going to shatter the glass.
I leaned forward and took the gun out while he wasn’t paying attention. I kept it between me and the door, hiding it out of sight.
Another guy came running toward the car, waving his arms, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He called out the guy’s name.
“Alexei!”
Alexei wasn’t paying attention. He was trying to crack the glass with his hands. Anger had consumed him. He was threatening Cilla. Telling her all the things he was going to do to her once there was nothing between him and her.
She was laughing like a madwoman.
“Fuck. Alexei. Do you know who this car belongs to?” running guy tried to shout over their argument. “I should have never brought you here!” The running guy ran a hand through his hair, turning in a circle. He was looking for help.
He wasn’t getting any. Everyone stood far away from the car, but they were watching.
“Any second now,” Cilla said, a sing-songy tone to her voice.
“You fucking little bitch—”
“One,” Cilla said, still trying to get the window up, but it was more like a game to her.
“I’m going to enjoy breaking you like this window, little girl—”
“Two,” Cilla said.
On two, everyone outside of the club stopped staring at the car and went back to their own business.
The guy who ran toward the car lost his cigarette and was visibly sweating. He took Alexei by the shirt and pulled on him, screaming something in what sounded like Russian.
It took a second, but Alexei let go of the window, and it rolled up. The two guys ran toward the dark side of the building and were lost in the shadows of the strip club.
That was when I saw him, and I startled.
He wasn’t there.
Then he was.
I wondered how long he had been watching.
Aniello made a clear path as he walked toward us, everyone moving out of his way. No one wanted to touch him even accidentally.
Funny that. I always purposely put myself in his direct path.
He stopped by our car for only a second to grab a bat from the back. He tucked it underneath his arm. He went in the same direction as the two guys, fixing his gloves as he did.
“Told him,” Cilla said. “No one fucks with what belongs to Candle and leaves without a few broken bones or worse. Some people don’t have the brains they were born with. He probably won’t have any teeth or kneecaps left.”
Not even fifteen minutes later, Aniello slipped back into the driver’s seat, as if the last thirty or so minutes hadn’t happened.
Calm.
