King’s nostrils flared. “Don’t fucking dude me, asshole,” he roared, tightening his hold on Jimmy’s hair.
Jimmy blinked in quick succession as he stared up at King. His breaths came hard and fast, and I figured he’d reassessed his predicament. “Shit,” he finally muttered.
King didn’t relent. “Keep talking,” he ordered.
“I swear, all I know is what Slug told me…that there’d be a hit on the restaurant last night, but I swear I don’t know by who or why.” His words tumbled out, fast and uncensored, but they didn’t shed much light on the fire.
King glanced up at Scott. “You know this Slug?” he asked, maintaining his firm hold on Jimmy.
Scott nodded. “Yeah.”
King gave Jimmy’s hair one last yank before letting go and smacking the back of his head. The force caused Jimmy’s head to snap forward, and he yelped in pain.
“Next time, don’t fuck with us,” King muttered.
Scott eyed Jimmy. “Any idea of Slug’s whereabouts today?”
Jimmy’s eyes darted to King quickly and then back to Scott. His fear breathed on its own, and it seemed he wasn’t keen on messing with King again today. “Yeah, he’s working down at The Eclipse Bar today.”
King grinned and I saw a trace of the crazy in his eyes that he was known for. “So much easier when you just give us what we want,” he said as he slapped Jimmy on the back.
Scott was already on his way out the front door. “Griff, we might need back-up for this.” He voiced what I’d been thinking.
Shit was really about to go down.
* * *
An hour later, after calling in Nash, J and Wilder, the seven of us entered The Eclipse Bar. It was a dive of a bar in The Valley. I’d been here before and my memories consisted of stale alcohol, worn carpet, peeling paint and two-bit hookers looking for a john to get them through to their next hit. My memories were accurate.
It was still early in the day so there weren’t a lot of customers around yet. We split up and searched the bar, but Slug was nowhere to be found.
King scowled. “If Jimmy has fed us the wrong information, I’ll personally make sure he never takes another fucking breath.”
“Right there with you, brother,” I muttered.
“You boys want a drink?” The skinny, forty-plus, redheaded waitress who was aiming for sexy with her skimpy outfit, but who didn’t quite pull it off, sidled up to Scott as she asked her question.
Scott looked her up and down, his lack of interest in her clear, and said, “Slug in?”
“Now, sugar, that’s no way to greet a beautiful woman.” She pouted and placed her hand on his chest, moving closer to him. “How about you grab a seat while I get you a drink.” She winked at him. “And I’ll bring you my number, too.”
He took hold of her hand and removed it from his chest as if it was a piece of garbage. “I’ve already got the only number I ever want,” he snapped.
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. You can have two numbers; she doesn’t need to know what you get up to on the side.”
Scott leant in close to her. “I obviously haven’t made myself clear enough. My woman’s number is burned into my memory, as is the way her lips feel around my dick, and let me tell you, there’s not another set of lips that’ll ever get that close to my dick again. And as far as her not needing to know what I get up to on the side? I’ve never been interested in sides; I’m a mains kinda man.”
Surprise crossed her face. “Never known a man to say no to a bit on the side,” she muttered.
Jesus, do I have to listen to this shit?
I stepped forward so I could speak. “Did Slug come into work today? Yes or no? That’s all we’re interested in.”
Her eyes widened. “You guys got out of bed on the wrong side today.”
Staring at her, I repeated my question. “Yes or no?”
“No,” she muttered. At fucking last.
“We’re gonna need an address,” King asserted, his tone full of impatience. He was obviously as done with this conversation as I was.
“I don’t know where that asshole lives,” she said, straightening her shoulders as if she was preparing for a battle.
King glared at her, but before he said anything further, Wilder piped up. Holding up his phone, he announced, “I’ve got his address.”
“Thank fuck,” J said as he slapped Wilder on the back.
A minute later, we exited the bar. As we crossed the street to where we’d parked our bikes, my gaze narrowed on three guys down the road. I recognised two of them, but not the third. Jerking my chin in his direction, I asked Scott, “You know who that is?”
Scott squinted through the sun. “No idea; never seen him in my life. But if he’s consorting with those two, we need to make it our business to know who he is.”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.”
While we were watching him, another guy joined the group. “No idea who he is, either,” Scott muttered. Turning to Wilder, he called him over. “I want info on who those guys are. After we deal with Slug, you take off and look into that for me.”