Blade pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth and gives me a brief nod.
“Bartender,” he says.
I grin. “That’s me, but most people just call me Rae.”
Behind the bar Wayne groans again. “For the love of God, Rae.”
I glance back at him. “What now?”
“You’re supposed to be leaving,” he says, gesturing toward the door.
I wave a hand dismissively. “Relax. I’m just getting acquainted with the cavalry.”
Wayne drags a hand down his face. “You are unbelievable.”
Cole watches the exchange for a second, something almost amused flickering in his expression.
Mason, Dagger, and Riot walk over together from the back of the bar, their expressions telling me whatever they just confirmed didn’t improve anyone’s mood. Mason looks especially pissed, the kind of tight, controlled anger that settles into his shoulders and makes the whole room feel heavier. He stops at the bar and rests both hands on the edge of the counter, glancing once at Wayne before his gaze moves to me.
“Voss and his guys have been pulling this in other towns for the last six months,” he says. “Small places. Family businesses. Bars, shops, liquor stores. Anywhere locally owned that can’t afford to pay him but also can’t afford not to.”
Dagger leans one shoulder against the bar beside him, arms folding across his chest as he looks around the damaged room again. Riot stands a little behind them, his phone still in his hand like he’s been digging through information since they walked in.
“It’s extortion,” Mason continues, his voice calm but edged with anger. “They break some windows, rough the place up, leave a message, and wait for the owner to get scared enough to pay for ‘security.’ Once the money starts moving, the problems suddenly stop.”
Wayne exhales slowly. “Funny how that works.”
Mason’s jaw tightens slightly. “And the local cops aren’t doing a damn thing about it. Either they’re too lazy to deal with it, or Voss slipped them enough cash to make sure they look the other way.”
I glance around The Rust Nail again, at the broken glass and the boards covering the windows.
“Well,” I say, “that’s comforting.”
Riot finally speaks up from behind Mason, lifting his phone slightly. “He’s been smart about it,” he says. “No direct threats on record, nothing written down except notes like the one he left here. Most owners just quietly start paying and keep their mouths shut.”
My fingers tighten on the edge of the counter.
“And if they don’t?” I ask.
Dagger answers that one, his voice flat.
“Then the damage gets worse.”
My fingers tighten on the edge of the bar as I look between them. The anger that’s been simmering in my chest since I walked in starts pushing its way to the surface.
“Well what the hell are we going to do about it?” I ask, my voice sharper now. “Because I’m telling you right now, we are not paying that motherfucker.”
Wayne sighs behind the bar like he knew that sentence was coming the second I walked through the door.
“Rae.”
I hold up a hand without even looking at him. “Don’t‘Rae’me right now,” I say, shaking my head. “You know I’m right, Wayne. You can’t bow to him. The second you do, he owns this place.”
Wayne drags a hand down his face. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“It’s exactly what you’re saying,” I shoot back. “Some random guy breaks your windows, kicks in the door, and suddenly we’re supposed to start writing him checks like it’s part of the monthly budget? That’s not happening.”
I look back at the bikers.
