Page 8 of Bullseye
He’s gone.
Sighing, I let my heavy shoulders slump forward onto the bar and a searing pain shoots from my upper arm to the base of my skull when I do. But pain is okay. It helps me keep my mind from worrying about old business dealings, and new female possibilities.
Damn, who was that girl at the range last night? I’ve tried to stay busy all day today to keep my mind off of her, but it keeps making its way back. No, I can’t blame her for taking off the way she did when the fight, or more accurately, the beating broke out, but I would have liked a chance to talk to her. Although… thinking about it, it’s better I don’t.
Lifting one arm and rotating in a circle, I try to work out the kinks from yesterday’s shooting—and punching—sessions. My jacket bunches around me when I do, reminding me that Harry, and the rest of these guys, have my back.
As long as I stay in Hoppa and the hell away from New York, everything should be just fine.
***
Plopping the monthlies on the desk in front of Harry in the back room of Hoppa’s Taphouse, I grin at him. “Even Nick’s out front. What the hell are you still doing back here?”
After some obligatory chitchat where he grumbles about the noise and “all the commotion” like some grumpy grandfather, he finally stops what he’s doing and looks up at me.
“Wait, what’s going on?”
“Allthat commotion,” I explain, “is hopefuls.”
“What?”
Shoving his papers into a locked drawer, he follows me out to the bar area that must have at least dozens of hopefuls. Each of them seems happy and generally in good spirits. Don’t seem like any punk-ass losers to worry about. The tight muscles in my neck relax. This is good. A good way to keep my mind off of my problems and onto club business.
The night passes fairly quickly. Yeah, this social crap is hard for Harry who kept disappearing into the back, but for me, it’s a breeze. Despite the fact that I was raised by a hitman for the Bordonos, I actuallylikepeople. I find them interesting and enjoy hearing their stories.
I talked to person after person, sometimes with our Road Captain, Bucky, by my side, and sometimes alone. Bucky is like me. He enjoys getting to know people without divulging all that much about himself.
Spying this incredibly tall guy with slicked-back hair and a Mr. Monopoly type mustache hanging in the corner and nursing a beer by himself, I go over to talk to him. And damn, I’m glad I do. With a hearty handshake and a smile that lifts his cheeks and spreads from ear to ear, he introduces himself as Joey. As he starts blabbing away, I realize we have a shitload in common. Not the least of which is his taste in music, and that’s when I know I’ve got to go tell Harry about him.
I stay for one more fairly well-delivered joke, and he has me laughing as Bucky and Vil, two of the Steel Knights members, join us. For a moment, I’m sidetracked. Vil’s a cool guy, but with his face piercings, shredded black jeans, and mohawk hair, he looks like a punk rocker. Which, of course, makes me think of her. That hot girl from the range last night.
Would she be there again if I went back tonight? She definitely noticed me. She told me off, after all.
“Bullseye.” Bucky’s nodding to me. “Where’d you go?”
“Right here, sorry.”
“Okay, but I think you missed that joke and it was freaking hilarious,” he laughs.
“Going to check up on Harry, I’ll be back in a second.”
Excusing myself, I find Harry talking to some guy who briefly introduces himself as Mario. The guy looks like he’s as uncomfortable as Harry is, and is grateful when he has the opportunity to make it back to the bar. The bar is packed now, with people buying drinks and standing in the parking lot to drink them. I knew our rep was good, I didn’t know it was this good.
“Come on,” I tell Harry, “you’ve got to come meet this guy, Joey. He’s funny, and he’s a huge Age of Logic fan.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Someone who loves the same music you do? You’ve got to meet him.”
“Okay, let me just—”
“Bullet?” Turning back, I see what has his attention. Celia. The woman he likes, but who ghosted him.
“I’ll be over with Joey,” I tell Harry.
Getting away as fast as possible, I choose to hang again with Bucky, Vil, and Joey. Eyeing Harry, I can tell by his clenched jaw that he’s seething. He’s skirting Celia, who’s making it her job to flirt with every man in the room. Okay, back to Joey. He’d make a good prospect. Nah, his jokes aren’t all that funny, and I think he even screws up a punchline or two, but he’s got genuinely good energy. And I’m pretty insightful about things like this. The guys tease me about it pretty regularly. Tell me I should have been a therapist. What none of them, except Harry knows, is that I wanted to be a high school science teacher. But that was a lifetime ago.
Forcing myself to concentrate on Joey, I glimpse Harry approaching with a scowl on his face.
