Eva nodded, and scrambled to shut the back door that was still open to the drifting, quiet meadow. She clicked both the locks and returned to the bar room. Charlie finally began to move and react, talking to himself in speedy, curse-studded sentences as he paced behind the bar. Will put his hands on his waist and walked slowly back toward the bar, looking suddenly out of breath and tired. He reached to drain the tiny bit of beer left in the stein he had just used to break some guy’s arm. Even from a distance, Eva could see the blood on his knuckles.
She looked up at Will’s face, and he met her eyes. Her knees felt suddenly weak.
I guess he’s not with them…
~ SIX ~
As he put the stein back down on the bar, Will saw the faint stains of blood left over from where bone had pierced skin when he broke that motherfucker’s arm. He looked at his hand, fascinated to see that it was still. No matter how righteous the violence, he typically got the adrenaline shakes, even if they didn’t bother him. But not now. He didn’t feel his heart rate jump at all the entire fight.
Not sure that’s a good thing, he thought.
Will came out of his battle haze and remembered he wasn’t alone in the room. The young guy who’d introduced himself as Charlie raved around behind the bar like a robot whose circuits had been splashed with water. In his stress, Will could hear a clipped accent from the city on Charlie’s voice as he rambled. “What the fuck was that?! You have got to be fucking kidding me. What the hell am I supposed to be, some gladiator? I’m running a bar!”
And then there was the girl, Eva. Well, girl wasn’t quite the right word—the soft curves of her thin body gave her away as a grown woman, but she had a delicate air, like a doll. She was attractive in a way that Will hadn’t seen in a long while, surrounded as he was by women with edge and coldness. She stood in the doorway that separated the bar from the employee areas, frozen in fright, staring at him with her mouth hanging half-open. At her feet lay the book she had been reading, pages crushed and haphazard.
Will stepped toward her wordlessly, watching her big brown eyes get wider as he approached. He bent in front of her and picked up the book, straightening the pages between the cover before he offered it to her.
Eva stared up at him like she couldn’t process what he wanted. Her soft brown hair fell in waves that framed her pale, heart-shaped face. He couldn’t help but stare at her full, pouty lips as they quivered, trying to find words. An unmistakable bolt of lust raced down his spine and hardened his dick just a little.
He held the book closer to her and she finally looked down and took it in nervous, shaking hands, holding it to her chest like a shield. When her gaze lifted back to him again, she wore a confused, but soft, expression.
“You all right?” he asked.
Will saw redness flush across Eva’s cheeks, saw her pupils dilate when he spoke. It excited him. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” she finally responded, voice cracking.
Will nodded at her, and held her gaze a few minutes more. He could feel the growing heat in his veins and turned away before he could get too distracted by it.
“What the holy fuck is going on?” said Charlie, hands on his hips. He had come out from behind the bar and stood now in the middle of the room. “Who the shit are you, and what just happened?”
Will came toward him and was impressed to see that Charlie didn’t back away. “Mr. Murdock, that was racketeering.”
“What the fuck is this, some Scorsese movie? I’ve seen more criminal behavior in the week we’ve been in this shit town than I have my whole life in the city!” said Charlie, arms still waving excitedly as he spoke.
“You said you were taking over for Owen—looks like there’s some stuff he failed to mention before you showed,” said Will as he stretched the fingers in his right hand. Already they throbbed with ache and pain, knuckle wounds once again torn open and bleeding down his arm.
“Fuck you,” said Charlie. “He’s our uncle, he didn’t set us up to get killed by gangsters. Our aunt is dying, he moved with her to hospice care. We’re just trying to help out.”
“Well, I can tell you, it’s bad form to just come into a new joint and start wrecking the place,” said Will, gesturing to the spilled beer from the farmer’s table. “Violence attracts attention. Money is a better lubricant.”
“Your point being?”
“This isn’t their first time here. Maybe your uncle made some enemies before he left—”
From behind came Eva’s voice. “No, this isn’t their first time here. I’ve met them before.”
When Will turned around, he saw her walking up to them, her flowery sundress swishing around her thin legs. She held a bar towel out to him, giving a knowing nod to his bloody knuckles. Will could see the fear from before was all but gone, her eyes lit up by adrenaline. He took the towel from her and wiped the blood off his arm and hand.
“When did you meet them before?” he asked.
Eva licked her lips and put her hands on her delicate waist. Will felt a distracting twitch in his nether regions. “They came into the bar earlier. They asked for the owner, and I was the only one here, so I told them it was me. They didn’t like that answer, so they…” She paused and looked down, gathering some composure before she continued. “The one whose arm you snapped got a little touchy and left some vague threats. He said the real owner better be here when they return.”
Will felt anger rise in his blood at her words. He raised an eyebrow and turned back to Charlie. “You sure they didn’t know your uncle?”
“No,” said Eva. “They didn’t. It was clear they didn’t know who they were looking for, only that it wasn’t a woman. They couldn’t have met Owen.”
“What makes you say that?” said Will. He was impressed with how this girl seemed to know what she was talking about, despite being clearly in over her head. His tone may have given that away, because she immediately blushed and looked self-conscious at his question.
“By the questions they asked. People betray their prejudices that way, if you know what to look for.”
Before he could stop himself, Will felt a smile tugging at his mouth. Eva returned it for just a moment before she cleared her throat and walked away, back behind the bar, busying herself with something.
“Look, who the fuck are you, anyway? How the hell did you do that to those guys?” said Charlie, pointing at the door.
Will paused. Fuck, who am I? he thought. Before he let them make their cowardly escape, he twisted the literal broken arm of the one in the bun until he told Will what he wanted to know. Those fuckers came from the Ramirez cartel. Right now, all those men knew about Will was confined to the injuries he’d dealt them. But if they found out he was a Black Dog, they could use it as leverage to amend the truce to their favor, or even start a turf war.
But if they really were cartel men, they were breaking the truce, too. Howlett and LeBeau were strictly off-limits to them, at least when it came to anything more than temporary transport and storage of goods. Hassling a bar owner to no doubt start laundering money or running drugs from his business was not a gray area—it was a clear violation. He could call Henry right now and potentially have the MC behind this problem.
What makes you think Henry will suddenly change his tune on diplomacy? He has a treaty now to back up the idea—illusion, clearly—of peace. He’s not going to listen. You might as well bury both these kids out back right now.