Stalked By the Mob (Miami Mafia 1)

Chapter6

Nights at the bar always went by fast.. If there was ever a moment I wasn't serving or ringing someone up, there was a customer at the bar who wanted to talk.

Currently, Roger moved up to the bar since his friends had left. He was playing a game where he tried to flip quarters into shot glasses. He was making bets with Becks while I cheered her on.

Becks was making out like a bandit because Roger was too drunk to stand, which meant he lost every round. But Becks secretly moved the twenty-dollar bill she kept on winning back to his pile of money so he wouldn't find himself totally broke in the morning. Her customers were trying to get her attention for refills, but Roger kept on cussing them out in her defense. It was entertaining all around.

"C'mon you skunk whore," he slurred. "Let's see ya beat 'dis." He flipped the bottle cap that slid off to the side and went fluttering to the floor.

Becks and I broke out into a fit of giggles and even Roger couldn't hold in all his laughter. "That was a fluke!" he shouted loud enough for the whole bar to hear before taking another deep swig of beer.

Becks picked up a bottle cap from her stash. "Last round, microbe-testicles." Then with expert precision, she flipped it perfectly into the setup shot glass. A round of applause went up from the onlookers and Roger let out an exaggerated groan.

"That's right, trash dick! I own your ass!" she called as she started to head towards a customer at the end of the bar who waved her over.

Roger mumbled a string of words to himself that I couldn't hear as he wandered away from the bar. I was still chucking to myself as I cleaned up, but my smile vanished when Carlito himself emerged from the back.

Well, this was Carlito Jr. His pops started the bar and he inherited it. His father died suddenly three years ago, and ever since then, Carlito Jr. had been getting a crash course in bar management.

And he wasn't as good of a student as I was.

The customers kept coming because Carlito's had such a good reputation. But the vendors started to take advantage of the weaker Carlito immediately.

I was shocked he'd lasted three years. It probably helped that his coke supplier was a frequent customer. Couldn't beat that kind of convenience.

I glanced over to the back corner like I had been every few minutes, only to realize that my dark stranger was gone. Drat. I really hoped I'd get a glimpse of him as he left. After all, he'd been here for hours without ordering anything or talking to anyone. At this point, I just wanted to know what he looked like.

I was still staring at the corner when a man took Roger's vacated seat in front of me.

It was as though the smoke parted for him and the air temperature dropped a few degrees. It was like a ghostly specter inhabited the space, except I could see him.

We got all sorts of different types of customers here. There were a lot of locals who would wander in and didn't really know what type of place this was, but everyone else knew this was a crime bar.

It was mostly low-level gangsters who liked to drink and make deals. That might make it sound scary, but aside from the ass grabbing and a few fistfights here and there, it wasn't too bad. If things ever got bloody, I ran to the back and only came out when it was clear.

No matter what happened, cops never came by. So, in my mind, it was actually pretty safe for me.

But when that man took a seat across from me, any sense of safety I might have felt was swept out from under me.

I slammed my hand on the bar as though I had to physically keep myself from falling.

My cheeks flamed with embarrassment as his dark eyes burned into me.

This was no random civilian or local gangster. This guy was in a suit that cost at least four figures, with dark hair that curled around his collar, dark stubble that graced his sharp jawline and a face that would've been perfect, if not for a slightly crooked nose. It had been broken at some point.

It wasn't like I needed visual evidence of his violence. It emanated off him.

"I need a refill!" shouted one of my customers from the back, making me realize that the man and I had been staring at each other for far too long without speaking.

I blinked out of my daze as Becks went to take care of the customer at the table. "Sorry about that," I muttered as I plastered on a smile. "What can I get you?"

The stranger didn't seem upset. In fact, his mouth hooked up in a little grin, the way a lion smiled at a gazelle before he started to devour his prey. "So many things, Angel. Why don't we start with your best whiskey on the rocks."

His voice is deep and husky. Indicating a life not nearly as nice as that suit he wore.

Black ink snaked out around his neck and wrists, but I turned away to get his drink before I could study it long enough to figure out what those tats meant.

It was best not to stare at the customers too long—especially the more powerful looking ones.

I got him his drink and went about checking on my other customers. Becks gave me a questioning glance and I just shrugged. He was right at the bar, so it wasn't like I could gossip even if there was anything I could tell her.

I tried not to stare, but my eyes kept on finding their way to him every chance I got. He didn't have the same reservations, as his foreboding gaze was on me each and every time.

It got to the point that I could hardly focus on anything else. I started getting basic orders wrong and missed every other snarky comment Becks made throughout the night.

To make matters worse, Carlito Jr. kept popping out to check the paperwork from behind the register, which he never cared about, reviewing stock levels, which he didn't actually reorder, or generally looking out over the bar floor with uneasy eyes.

The entire night felt wrong, as though there was a ticking bomb just waiting to go off.

There was only an hour until close, and I was trying to keep it together. Soon enough, this weird night would just be a memory for Becks and me to giggle at. I cleared off a dirty table and carefully carried the tray of empty glasses behind the bar. Most of the customers cleared out, so there were no wandering hands I had to avoid, making this trip easier than others.

Normally it would've been a nice break, except now all I could think about was this force of nature right behind me, seemingly waiting for the perfect chance to pounce.

And now I was all alone with no excuse to walk away. I couldn't very well leave the bar unattended.

After I dropped the glasses in the sink and rinsed them off, I leaned against the sink for a few long moments until I couldn't put it off any longer.

Turning around, I was faced with the stranger running a finger along the rim of his glass, those dark eyes eating me up. It was the whiskey I'd given him originally. It didn't look like he'd taken a drink.

Whatever he had planned, he was going to be a hundred percent sober.

I should've just kept my mouth shut but the silence that had been sitting between us all night stretched on to an unbearable discomfort. "Is there something wrong with the whiskey?" He'd asked for the best stuff we had and that's what I gave him.

He looked me up and down and his grin widened. It wasn't a gross leer like some customers gave. It was genuine happiness, and somehow that delight appeared on the face of someone who radiated death and destruction.

Anything that made someone like that happy had to be bad news for anyone in the nearby vicinity.

"I want to make your dreams come true, Daisy."

A shiver ran through me as he said my name. I was certain I hadn't told him. I'd barely said anything to him at all. I busied my hands by drying some glasses and tried to look anywhere but at the black hole of his gaze. "What do you know about my dreams?"

"Tell me about them, then."

I took a nervous gulp and turned back to the sink. Turning my back on a predator like this was such a bad idea on every level, but all of that dark energy was too overwhelming.

"Do you always run away from conversations?" he called out.

I winced. Why was he even talking to me? I was just a waitress. Usually, I could just swat a wandering hand away or have Becks say a few choice curse words and this would be done with.

Speaking of Becks, she was never gone this long. Where on earth had she gotten off to? Unease settled in my gut, however I had no choice but to ignore it as I turned back to the man. "When a stranger offers to make all your dreams come true, usually running as fast as you can is the best course of action."

He bit his tongue between his teeth. It felt as though he was holding himself back from taking a bite out of me. "Smart girl. But that's because most of those men making promises can't deliver. Do you think I can't make good on my word?"

I shifted my weight. When his eyes drifted to my cleavage, I felt my temperature skyrocket. "Please stop." My words were so soft; I couldn't even be sure I had spoken them out loud.

"Never."

Had he really just said that? It wasn't the mocking or casual sexual harassment I was used to. He said it with so much seriousness and conviction. As though he could stare at my body for as long as he wanted, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

But despite his words, he did look away, reaching into his pocket. He pulled something out and set it on the bar top. "My name is Alek Rishka. I'll make you a deal."

My eyes widened. A deal with the devil? There was no way I would come out on the positive end of that one. But he hadn't done anything outright threatening. And he hadn't even been all that rude. "What kind of deal?" I might as well humor him.

"I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night, which includes taking my eyes off your delectable body, but you have to take this home with you."

I took the chance to reach out and snatch the item on the counter as though he would've made a move to snatch me, given the opportunity.

Which was ridiculous. He could've made a move any minute since he'd walked into Carlito's.

I turned the item around in my hands and realized it was a brand-new phone. Nope. Nothing about this was good. I wished Becks was here for protection. I couldn't see any sign of her. Had Alek done something to her?

"I can't take this. You can track me with a phone."