Flicking the tab into the alleyway, I heard them before I saw them: a tin can being kicked was my signal as three men walked around the corner of the alleyway from the shadows. They weren’t surprised to see me as all three sets of eyes landed on my face.
“There he is. The man of the match,” one grunted with a sly expression.
“Gentlemen,” I greeted, with a wary nod. There was a chance that they were going into the bar.
The fact that they shot each other a look and just grunted was a telling sign. The biggest one walked past me, his eyes locked with mine. My mistake was realized as he plonked his massive body in front of the door into the bar, and my chance of escape. The smaller of the three, a red-haired dude with shifty eyes, placed his shoulder against the wall by the alley, which would have been my second route out of there.
And then the third guy came to stand in front of me. He was a taller, less bulky guy with a scar through his eyebrow. I automatically identified him as the leader. The big douche was still at my back as I frowned at the man standing in front of me. I heard the crack of knuckles from behind my shoulder, causing me to swallow that lump in my throat.
“Can I help you with something?” I said, cutting all of them a look in turn, even the dude at my rear, who wore a massive, annoying as fuck smirk.
The guy I had pegged as the lookout by the wall cocked his chin and then looked up and down the alley.
“It’s clear,” he explained. Of what? I wanted to say. He was physically the weakest of the three.
I decided to label them. The one in charge was Toothless due to the massive gap between his teeth. The lookout guy was the Runt: I could probably have knocked him out with one punch, and the big lug at my back was the Muscle.
Without breaking eye contact with Toothless, I slid my hand into my jeans pocket, what for, who knew. It wasn’t as if I could send a message to either of my brothers blindly.
Another pulse of dread shot through me. I was fit and could handle myself, but not against three of them: I wasn’t Phoenix. I also didn’t have Hudson’s psycho: two things which would have come in handy just then.
“Take your hands out of your pockets,” was the first thing Toothless grunted. He was clearly worried I had a weapon. I did as he asked and held my hands up in surrender.
“Yes, sir,” I replied in a charming voice. Maybe I could talk them down. There was a chance that this was just a regular mugging; they could take my wallet and leave. Then I thought back to that feeling of being followed, and something in my gut shifted. This wasn’t a group of thugs after my spare change or my watch. They were there to fuck me up.
Clearing my throat, I turned to each of them in turn as I said, “So, I’m guessing you boys aren’t here for my autograph?” I tried to sound calm, but I was a fucking mess inside; thoughts of getting your ass kicked did that to a person.
Toothless grinned. “You guessed right, pretty boy.” The fucker was trying to get a rise out of me. Maybe so, I’d lash out first, and he could sue my ass. That wouldn’t have been the first time some opportunist had picked a fight for an out-of-court settlement.
Shrugging my shoulders, I dropped my hands by my sides and shot the muscle a look over my shoulder. “So, what can I do for you gentlemen?” Maybe if I delayed any pending action on their part, my brothers would come looking for me. I mean, how long did it take a dude to smoke a cigarette? I must have been gone for around ten minutes already.
Toothless cut to the chase, but I wasn’t ready for what he revealed next. “I heard you had a date with the mayor's pretty daughter,” he mentioned in a gruff voice that didn’t suit his face: Ex-mayor, but whatever.
Blinking, I replied. “Excuse me?”
His eyes narrowed. “You heard me.” My jaw started to tick. What the actual hell?
“You should probably stay away from her. She’s nothing but trouble.”
Dashing a hand across my jaw, I glanced at their lookout before pinning my gaze on the guy who appeared to be taking charge. “And why would I do that?” I’d never seen any of them before, but I knew instantly that they were not from the media.
“Because I’m asking you to.”
“And who are you?” That fight or flight, survival mechanism Storm used to talk about all the time, kicked in, and I braced myself for danger.
“A messenger with some friendly advice.” Friendly? Yeah right. The sound of a cop car's siren screeched in the distant background. Where were the fucking pigs when you needed them?
The guy who clearly didn’t have dental insurance stepped forward and into my personal space. He wore way too much cologne. Maybe he used that to distract from the fact that he had the worst smile on the planet. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen.”
“So, you’ve been hired to send a message?” I said as I crossed my arms.
Toothless threw an amused glance around his cronies. “See, he’s not just a pretty face with a great throwing arm. He does have some smarts. Talking of throwing arms. You’re left-handed, right?” he announced, his gaze dipping to my left side.
My stomach dropped, but I refused to show any fear in front of these assholes. “So?”
His eyebrows rose as he rocked back on his heels. “Well, if you don’t listen to reason. You’ll have to learn how to play ball with your right hand.”
“Why would I need to do that?” My head started to swim with panic. They were threatening to disable me. I rolled my shoulders, my hands fisted by my sides. I knew I needed to prepare myself for the worst.
