Page 14 of Bourbon & Blood

“Bitch, I do what the fuck I want.”

I shoved a business card against her chest, plain white, with just a single number printed on it. The number to my burner.

“That man o’ yours shows back up here, you call this number. You don’t, and I find out about it, I’ll do more ‘n smack your bitch ass around a little bit,” I told her.

She stared at me, mutely, and when I understood thatsheunderstood, I got to my feet.

“Don’t fuckin’ test me,” I told her over my shoulder. “I am not the one.”

Saint and I departed and rode back to the club.

Hex had texted an hour or two ago with an update on our boy.

He’d had to be put in surgery. They’d saved his ass, but it was close. He’d been bleedin’ like a stuck pig. That’d just served to piss me off even more.

Back at the club, I called a meetin’ – everyone had turned up, which was good. We’d voted unanimous that ol’ Louie be patched in and I’d given Hex the order. By the time Louie got out the hospital, his cut would be ready.

That ought to cheer the man up; if’n he could pass his final test.

Business concluded, my need for violence gone pretty much unsated, I stared up at the darkened window to little Alina’s vacant apartment.

Came to be, I could look up there at her lacy embroidered curtains and could find a measure of peace even if she wasn’t home, but those curtains were gone now and the place just felt empty inside, like me.

I got up and flicked my joint against the cracked asphalt and sighed.

“You leavin’?” I heard Saint call out. I glanced back and nodded, and he saluted me with his beer.

“Shiny side up, cher,” he called, and I threw him some chin and went for my bike to do somethin’ just formefor a change.

I took a leisurely ride, turning down this way and up that a way, wending my way the long way toward Bourbon Street, and where I knew that my little Alina would be.

I walked along the cracked sidewalk through partiers and revelers. The ones with enough common sense left parting before me like the red sea. The rest too stupid to move got shoulder checked or just plain shoved the fuck out of my way. Nobody was drunk enough or stupid enough to nut up on me.

I was slightly disappointed by that.

I stopped in line outside the bar that Radar had named as the one Alina had last worked a, and showed my ID to the bouncer, who looked from it to me a couple times before his eyes settled on my cut. He frowned, and I raised an eyebrow, daring him to tell me no colors inside the bar – but he didn’t. He wasn’t stupid, and I wasn’t here to fight, just to have a beer and look at my girl.

I ended up at a corner table with a good view of the bar, and a waitress came and took my order.

I told her my favorite beer and was immediately transfixed by the redhead behind the bar. It took me a few seconds to realize the waitress hadn’t budged and was waiting on something.

“What?”

“I said we don’t have that. Would you like something else?” she called over the loud music.

“Oh, just bring me something like it, I don’t care what,” I said, waving her off.

She drawled, “Ooookayyy,” and whisked herself off and out of my line of sight.

I watched Alina through the crowd, pleased that she drew my beer from the tap, and waited for it to come to me.

“Thanks,” I told the waitress and peeled off a hundred. “Just keep it coming.”

She gave a nod and wandered off and I was left to watch my girl. The sense of peace her beautiful face, lovely heart, and angelic soul brought me, settling over my shoulders like a mantle.

Last call came and went a few hours later, and I picked myself up, left a generous tip for the waitress on top of whatever else was left out of the Benjamin that I’d given her, and I headed out the door in the thick of the throng leaving the bar.

I took up some real estate against one of the posts holding up a balcony across the way and watched the bar’s front door.

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