There were other tables toward the back, but none of the people sitting there looked like they were up to any shady business. They were just enjoying their cheap meal.
I took a seat at the bar, deciding that if I was going to do this, I might as well be upfront about it.
The older woman came up to me with a smile.
“Coffee while you look over the menu?”
I nodded. “I was actually wondering if you could answer some questions.”
Her smile dropped slightly.
“Sure. Take a look at the menu and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
She was pretty bad at trying to distract me.As if I’d want to know about food.Her hand was shaky as she poured coffee for me before setting the pot down.
“I heard there’s a man who comes here sometimes. He's on the tall end, balding slightly, he probably smells. His name is James Blackwell.”
Her entire body froze, and when she met my gaze, I could tell that she was carefully considering all her options. Then, her hands shot up, and she quickly retreated.
“If you know anything, you need to?—”
He almost got away with hitting me from behind. The only sound giving away my attacker was the squeak of his boots, and I moved before whatever he was holding could hit my head.
I turned quickly and sent a kick right to his abdomen, working on instinct and muscle memory alone. I got a look at his face, my heart dropping to my stomach when I realized he’d been one of the people sitting in the corner, smiling at the waitress. A younger man, a little rough around the edges, sporting similar tattoos as the one who visited my office.
He staggered back, but there was another one coming right after him, holding a long bat.
At least it's not a gun. But I’m still outnumbered.
I grabbed the pot of coffee behind me and threw it at him. He let out a bloodcurdling scream as the hot liquid hit his face, and I tried to use the distraction to make it to the door, but more men were already there waiting for me. In front of them was a girl with long black hair, rectangular glasses, and a smirk.
The guys behind her didn’t move against me. They just stood there, arms crossed over their chest.
“You looking for James?” the girl asked, stepping forward. She had a scar on the lower edge of her jaw that ran through the middle of her face.
“I think that's obvious by my line of questioning, isn't it?”
She chuckled and shook her head. She was oddly attractive for whatever type of criminal activity this was, wearing an all-black button-up and pants and a deep red tie loose on her neck. She looked like a fish out of water.
“Let me rephrase. How the fuck did you find out about this place?” Her sharp eyes shot up to me, danger swimming in them.
I heard shuffling behind me, but I didn't dare glance away from the target in front of me.
“My contacts saw him here.”
She nodded and took another step closer to me, her eyes trailing my figure.
“Fancy-looking suit… Nice car… And now you're telling me that yourcontactstold you where to find us. Who do you work for?”
She pushed one hand into her pocket and fished out a cigarette. One of the guys behind her immediately stepped forward and lit it for her.
What the fuck kind of wannabe mob boss is this?
But no matter how stupid I thought the whole thing was, something told me I should be worried about her.
“Myself.”
“And why are you looking into James Blackwell? You have a death wish or something?”
