Ricardo notices me as soon as I walk in because he’s sitting, watching the door, smoking a cigarette in yellow-stained fingers.
“Back again?” he muses with a dry cough.
“It seems I didn’t make myself clear enough the first time,” I growl as I get closer to him. “Did I not tell you to leave her alone?”
He snorts. “Yeah, you made it pretty clear. The threats, the danger. Blah blah, you’ll break my legs or whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes.
I grab the collar of his shirt and tug him forward. He falls off the bar chair and hangs in my grip. The bar chair falls over. No one pays any attention. No one would step in to help him either. Not in a place like this.
He chokes on a breath as I release the collar slightly. “You need to learn your place, old man,” I snarl, giving him a handshake.
He coughs again, falling straight to the ground when I release his shirt.
He looks up at me, “What? I am supposed to be scared of you?” he scoffs.
I swing my arm, backhanding him hard across the face.
“Did I not tell you what I’d do to you? I am a man of my word after all!” I snap.
The fucker laughs.
He looks up at me with a cut lip, blood spilling down his chin. He smiles, and there is blood on his teeth. He fucking laughs.
I know my brows as he staggers to his feet, hanging onto a bar stool to steady himself. He leans heavily against the bar.
“You’re mad that I called my own daughter? Who the fuck do you think you are? I am her father. You’re just some asshole who came into her life by accident. I’ve known her my whole life, and yeah, I get to call her. She’s family.”
“You don’t get to call her and talk shit to her about things that have nothing to do with you,” I growl.
“Talk shit to her? I didn’t talk shit to her. I told her the truth. Everything I said about you was true, and I dare you to try to tell me otherwise. You’re a murdered. You’re a criminal. I know what you’ve done. Don’t stand there and fucking pretend to be this great man!”
He spits a puddle of blood onto the pub floor. It bubbles and spreads out.
“You own her? Is that what you think? You think youownmy daughter?” he snarls, laughing bitterly.
I bunch my fists up, ready to take another swing at this asshole.
“You’re so fucking disgusting,” I hiss.
“Yeah, well. I’m your father-in-law now aint I? It’s true you married her, isn’t it?” he laughs again.
“So, what then? Are you suddenly Father of the Year? You want to spend time with her even though you didn’t even give a shit where she was for weeks and weeks after I took her. For all you know, she could have been dead, but you didn’t even ask about her once!”
“Hey, I was busy,” he says, holding his hands up.
“Busy pissing your life away in this shit hole or one just like it!”
“Don’t judge us,” he gestures around the room. “We might not have a shiny car like you or a slick-looking suit, but we are working fucking hard for what we got!”
“Work hard? Please. You stole your daughter’s money while you gambled your own away. That’s not working. That’s barely even existing,” I snap.
“Yeah, well, my family is rich now,” he snorts with laughter. “Aint you? Rich?” he taunts me.
“I’m not your fucking family, asshole.”
My blood is boiling. The anger is getting the better of me.
Looking around the bar, some people who’ve been watching hurriedly turn their faces away and are suddenly very preoccupied with whatever is closest to them. Yeah. No one here would give a shit if I put a bullet in his head. And no one would haveseenanything either.
