Page 63 of Demitri

“Long day?” Same question I’d ask any of my patrons.

“Yup.”

He grabs the glass and bottle and nods before turning and going to the booth where Grady is. Something’s wrong. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, but I can’t get answers right now. It’s deadin here tonight, but not empty. There’re a few couples out for an after-dinner drink and a group of friends playing pool.

I distract myself by going back to inventory and shooting the shit with Brodie through the window to the kitchen. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but when I see quick movement out of the corner of my eye, I turn around in time to watch Demitri and Grady rush across the bar and out the door, their faces set in stone. As soon as they exit, Aiden walks in, calm as a cucumber, like nothing odd is going on.

“What the hell?” I ask as he takes a seat at the bar.

“Don’t know. But I’ll take a beer.”

“I’m not sure you deserve a beer with no answers.” I grin at him.

“Story of my life, Mia.”

“What is the story of your life, Aiden?” I grab a mug, moving to the taps and pulling a beer for him. “Actually, that can wait. Pull your phone out and figure out what the hell is going on first. Then story time.”

He shakes his head but does just that, typing out a message and staring at the screen, waiting for the reply. Both of us are getting antsy when it finally comes through.

“Someone tried to break into the garage, and the guys want to talk to them.”

“What? Where? Who?”

“If I knew that, I would have told you.”

“We need to go to him.”

“No, Mia, we don’t. You don’t need to be anywhere near what’s going on. That’s the whole point of us being here. To keep you out of whatever shit is happening. And you’re going to stay out of it.”

“I don’t like you very much right now.”

“That’s fine. I’ll take your anger and dislike over you being in danger any day of the week.”

“Ugh.” I toss my hands up. “Stop throwing logic in my face.”

“Nope.”

“Fine. Then tell me your story.”

“The long, drawn-out version or the down and dirty?”

“Down and dirty, of course. I’ll ask questions if I need more.”

He takes a gulp of his beer. “Can I get cheese sticks with my story and maybe an Irish Old Fashioned?”

“I guess,” I sigh. Turning, I shout through the window. “Order of mozz sticks!”

“You got it, Boss!” Brodie yells back, probably thankful to be doing something. Or pissed off that I’m interrupting his study time. I turn back to Aiden, grabbing a glass to make his drink. “Start talking.”

“I’m from South Boston. Most of my family are either Southies or from Dorchester.”

“That’s where the accent comes from. I didn’t think it was New York.”

“Nah, never liked that city much. Boston all the way. My dad and mom are still together, married forty years. Ma had six kids.”

“Six? She’s a superhuman!”

“Eh, it’s what she signed up for. Stay out of the way, stay out of business, and keep having babies to carry on the legacy.”

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