It dawned on me how in sync with her I felt. This Rock Costigan was beginning to annoy me. Lynn noticed. She gripped my arm with fervent passion.
“Oh Cheese… please… let me do ‘em. Clint will help me clean up afterward. He does anything I say since he made me clean a milk spill off the kitchen floor this morning.”
After raucous enjoyment of Lynn’s ownage of Clint, I shook my head. “I’ll handle this, but not until I throw down one more Beam brother.”
My telepathic barkeep, Marla, had already refilled my Beam brother. “Bless you, sister of The Warehouse sanctuary.”
She laughed, waving and returning to where Alexi nursed a beer.
I sipped my Beam half down, drinking in the ambiance of the bar, my Beam brother, and the Monster family around me. Then a voice pierced my brain, obliterating the moment.
“Do you have to get drunk to talk with me, Harding?”
Even Lynn choked on her wine at that remark. Rock’s blurting stupidity silenced our merriment. I noted it drew tenseness amongst the Oakland PD patrons near enough to hear his words too. I turned while standing away from my barstool to face his table. Maybe it was the Bud and Beam brothers, the earlier escape from death, or the Monster rising. Who knows? All I knew at the moment was the bullseye I’d had on me all day annoyed the hell out of me. I planned to share.
“I’ve fought tonight. I’ve had a couple of shots and beers. I don’t need drink or anything else to kick the living shit out of you, poser! If you want me, we don’t need no Las Vegas meeting place. I’ll take your life right outside this bar, Betty. Get on your fucking feet and let’s do this right now!”
One of his behemoths who thought he had a card to play jutted in front of me as I moved to Rock’s table. Oh baby. I planted him in between the tables with a left uppercut that nearly severed his head from his shoulders. You could hear a pin drop in the place other than the attractive music playing in the background. I leaned on Rock’s table with both hands.
“Repeat the insult, Rock. If you do, or don’t take my challenge, I’ll drag your ass outside where I can end you for all time.”
Tommy rocketed in, annoyingly for me in that moment. “Easy, DL. Don’t do this here. Let’s take this down a few octaves. C’mon, John. We know this game. Let me handle this.”
I stared at my brother for a long moment while straightening away from the table. I nodded. “Okay, T.”
I turned to Rock with blood in my eye and a grin of anticipation. “Say one word of disrespect and I kill you. Say you understand so when I do it, all of us within earshot will know I warned you… Betty!”
“I understand,” Rock replied, knowing he was out of his element completely. He was in a universe of reality we all thought he had learned when he faced us in the hotel room before the ‘Starlight’ mission.
I slapped his buddy into consciousness and plucked him off the floor. I stuffed him, groggy and bleeding, into his seat. I jammed his cloth napkin into place over his busted mouth, following it with his hand. “Don’t move from this chair.”
Turning to the very quiet Saturday night crowd, I took a deep breath. “Sorry about that folks. Just a little misunderstanding. All tabs are on me tonight, so eat, drink, and be merry.”
Applause and whistles of appreciation brought the room out of its silent binge and restored the Saturday night festiveness. I brought Tommy over a chair because there was only one extra at the table. We sat down with the Rock.
“You coming here instead of contacting either me or Alexi Fiialkov was ill-advised to say the least,” Tommy stated formally. “Our group aren’t video gamers playing ‘Call of Duty’. You found that out in New York. What could possibly be so important you had to come here? I’ve already figured you had a hand in stirring the Mohammed Knowly group into action along with the Nejem family. That’s how you knew to find us here.”
Rock nodded his head in recognition Tommy was right on all counts. “I do know your group’s rep. I figured you’d learn I bought in on tonight’s fight as one of Knowly’s backers. I came here to tell you I had nothing to do with the dart-gun guy. When one of my men called and told me what happened, I came directly over here.”
“Okay,” Tommy replied. “Getting mixed in with John’s murder would have been a stunt you would never pull, so I’ll grant you that much. Did you have much contact with the Nejem family?”
“No. They wanted to know if I was interested in buying in on the fight through Knowly’s people. I only heard they were financing the fight, asking if I’d consider giving Knowly a boost into the UFC ranks if he beat Harding. I agreed to help him and… I put ten grand on Knowly to win.”
There’s some good news. Tommy and I exchanged grins.