“Enzo fucking Luciano. Fuck, it’s really you. Guys, it’s Enzo Luciano. Mr. Italian Mob himself,” yells a voice from behind me.
I’m aimed at the bartender.
Niko quickly shifts one of his guns and his line of sight to the guy who spoke.
“Jules, cover the bar?” I ask. She shifts into position as I turn. “Do I know you?” I ask the drunk biker. He’s over fifty with long, shaggy hair and a gut too big for his stick legs. Is he fucking serious? He doesn’t even have a gun.
He laughs. “No, no. You don’t know me. I just can’t believe you're here. Did you really roll into a biker bar with two women? Has the mob changed that much since your daddy died, boy?”
“You knew my father?”
“Nah. Just of him. Saw ‘im around town a few times. I did odd jobs for Donovan’s crew back before they all took each other out. Damn though, you look just like him. Anyone tell you that?”
This drunk idiot. I learned long ago not to let anyone bait me by mentioning my dad, Donovan, or Volkov. Many have tried to rattle me with that shit—all have failed. “All the time. You and your friends going to cause us trouble? Or can we take the girl and go?”
“Johnny, is that you?” Pippa slurs her words.
Most of the initial group of guys have backed up. One druggy-looking scrawny guy is holding her, standing next to the big guy Hudson is squared off with.
“Yeah, Janey, baby, it’s me. Ready to go?” Hudson says, never moving his eyes from the oaf.
“Janey? You said your name was Catherine?” The guy holding her asks.
She laughs and slurs a few words I can’t make out.
“Who owns this place?” I ask the bartender.
“Who’s asking?”
“Did you not hear your buddy over here? I’m EnzofuckingLuciano.” That gets me a blink, like maybe he didn’t believe his friend knew who I was.Fair.
“I—” He clears his throat. “It’s my bar.”
“What’s your name?”
He hesitates before answering me. “Michael Dalton.”
“Listen, Michael. You have two choices: The girl leaves with us and no one gets hurt. Or the girl leaves with us and your patrons get wounded, your bar gets trashed, and the place gets swarmed by police. The call is yours.”
Druggy-guy holding Pippa speaks up. “Dal, don’t let him talk to you like that! It’s her choice. Tell them, baby. You want to be here.”
I don’t have eyes on what is going on, but I hear shuffling.
Then, Hudson says, “I got you, Janey. I got you.”
I hear the same guy call her Catherine and ask her to come back to him.
Michael looks around before yelling, “We’re letting them go, boys! Anyone causing trouble is on their own.” After some grumbles and weak protests, guns start to lower.
I tip my chin to Michael, and we slowly walk backward toward the exit, guns still raised, Pippa positioned in the center of the group.
Pippa is saying “Jules” and “Luna” and mumbling something. I think I hear her say the word “sisters” a few times.
Niko’s three backup men are outside the bar when we step through the doors.
“Make sure no one follows us.”
They agree and take position.
