Seagulls swarmed above, cackling and squawking as I walked across the parking lot of the Buoy, my eyes on the stairs at the back of the building that led up to Margo’s apartment. When I was close, the back door of the bar shot open and Joey emerged, looking like a completely different man than when I first met him. He’d lost at least forty pounds and put on some muscle. According to Sarah, he looked like the man he was before his father passed. He gave me a chin lift. “You looking for Margo? She’s behind the bar, doing inventory.”
“Nah, I have a meeting with Hayes.” I started up the stairs, and he paled.
“You have a meeting with him?” he sputtered. “Don’t you fuckers have an office in the city? What the fuck do you need to have a meeting here for?” He didn’t give me a chance to reply, stepping out into the sunlight. “Look, while I appreciate you boys protecting Margo and Rachel that one time, I can’t have any more bad shit fly into town.”
“Joey,” I called. “Calm the fuck down.”
He put his hands on his hips. “No, man, I’m serious.”
“So am I,” I clipped. “Calm down and go back inside.”
The bar owner hesitated. “Are my girls in danger?”
“No.”
His shoulders slumped and he looked up to the sky. “Thank fuck for that. Have a good day.”
As I watched him walk back inside, a dark feeling swirled in my gut. I looked out to the water, past the seagulls, docks, and the boats, all the way to the deep and the dark clouds lingering above it. Joey’s girls weren’t in danger, but I wasn’t completely sure mine was safe. Especially here in Astoria.
“Doss.” Hayes was at the top of the stairs, watching me with his brow pinched in concern. “You good?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, taking a last look at the sea.
He came down the stairs and followed my gaze. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Just a feeling.”
He stared at me for a moment. “Right. We doing this out here or inside?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“You planning on taking a swing at me?” I asked. “Because, Mitchell, gotta be honest, I’m not in the mood to pay Margo for the damages we cause.”
His lips twitched. “So you’re saying you’d swing back?”
I scratched my beard. “No, fucker, I’d throw you into a wall.”
He nodded, looking out to the docks. “Well, that’s what I deserve, so I’d let you.” I flinched at his tone. He turned and headed upstairs. “Come on.”
“I’m not paying for shit,” I called to his back, following him.
“I don’t plan on hitting you, Ash. There’s nothing to pay for,” he said over his shoulder, heading inside.
The scent of Margo’s famous snickerdoodles assaulted my nose as I closed the door behind me, scanning her eclectic space. Her green couch was the focal point of the living room, a new navy-blue rug underneath it and a large wooden coffee table in front. The TV was no longer sitting on the funky piece of furniture from the seventies but mounted on the wall. I gestured to the empty space. “Where’s the weird purple TV stand?”
“I set it on fire three weeks ago,” Hayes answered, sitting on the arm of the couch.
My eyes dropped to the coffee table and then lifted back to him. “Your taste, I assume.”
He looked uncomfortable. “I need some order, Doss.”
I grunted and checked to see if the yellow land line phone was still on the wall. It was, and a brief moment of relief washed over me. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t let you turn this place cold.”
“Cold?”
“Your apartment could pass for a doctor's office waiting room, Mitchell.”
