The man raised his eyebrows slightly before looking back to the bar. “And who you gonna call to rescue you?”
I knew he was half-serious when he said it, because I had always been extremely delicate-looking, a real feminine, damsel-in-distress type, even if that wasn’t at all who I was. I was used to fielding those off-handed, protective comments all my life, and I knew he meant no harm or disrespect in it. “I’ll be fine,” I said, then shot him another smile. “Still, is there any way you could wait around back for us? I only need about five minutes, and I’ll pay you well for your trouble once I get him out of his.”
“Five minutes?” he said, looking down at the large bill I’d already tipped him. “Sure, lady. It’d be my pleasure.”
I nodded gratefully and made my way toward the door. I could actually feel the pounding vibrations coming from the inside, but just as I reached the door way, a large, sweaty man went flying out into the cold. He landed with a drunken laugh on a pile of splintered wood before getting back up and charging back into the fray.
“Screw the five minutes,” I said, turning back to the cabbie. “Better make it ten.”
Chapter 20
The second I stepped inside, I felt like I had stumbled onto a movie set. It was a cross between a food fight and a wrestling match. More accurately, it was reminiscent of one of those old taverns full of pirates, the kind of pub where every inch of space would bear witness to the mayhem the next morning.
The air was punctuated with equals parts screaming, laughter, and music, as well as shattering glass and splintering furniture. Not a second went without some wildly thrown shot glass sailing past me in the air. Bodies seemed to be flying left and right, and liquor in all shades of brown and amber was dripping off the walls. Ironically, an infomercial for a key-locking breathalyzer flickered on a cracked television screen up above, and in one of the far corners, the remnants of an indoor fountain were leaking water all over the place, flooding the wooden floor and washing away the sticky beer and cocktails and who knew what else. It was chaos, yet it was strangely ordered; everyone racing around seemed to have a particular mission in mind, but their endgame was totally beyond me.
“Lady, watch the hell out!”
I ducked just in time to prevent a ceramic vase from shattering over my head. Two more followed in close succession, and I saved myself from head trauma by dropping into a crouch as I let out a half-strangled shriek.
Nick, when I find you, I’m going to kill you myself!
“Hey!” I shouted at the nearest man to me as he lay on the floor. At the moment, he was right in the middle of getting his ass kicked by someone kneeling on his chest, but that didn’t stop me from grabbing his ear to get his attention. “Hey, mister!”
The fight came to a momentary pause as the drunken man kneeling on top actually made a time-out sign just to be polite. “Yeah?”
I rolled my eyes and raised my voice to a conversational yell. “Have either of you seen a guy named Nick? Tall and blond, in a designer suit, probably mouthy as hell and spouting off some nonsensical speech about medieval archery or the spawning rights of fish?”
The description didn’t hit home, but I could tell I’d made a bit of progress with the “nonsensical speech” part. While I still had their attention, I reached quickly into my bag and pulled out my phone; it was easy enough to pull his picture up on the screen since I had a thousand of them.
Their eyes locked on the photo for only a moment before lightening in surprise.
“Oh, that pretty boy? The one in them fancy duds?” said the man kneeling on top of the other. He then threw his arms wide to gesture around the bar. “That cocky punk started this whole mess!”
Why am I not surprised?
The man beneath him glared up at his attacker with the strength of a nova. “Yeah, and you ain’t gonna touch him, man! That guy paid me fifty smackers to defend him with my life! I’m his personal bodyguard, and you won’t lay a fuckin’ finger on him tonight or ever!”
I turned to the man in surprise, but before I could say a word, the guy sitting on his chest threw up his hands in exasperation. “The billionaire’s a menace, Carl. He doesn’t belong here, and he’s not worth your life.”
Carl, however, was loyal to a fault—after a payoff, of course—and would not be swayed. Apparently, fifty bucks was enough to by a lifetime of loyalty, no matter how long or short that life might be.
&nbs
p; I left them to their own devices, interjecting only once more to ask, “And where might I find this menace to Queens society, gentlemen?”
Carl pointed in the general direction of the bar. “Last time I saw him, he was barricading himself over there,” he panted between punches to the face. “He said he was gonna call someone who can put a stop to this shit, make it all go away.”
How sweet. Nick tries to re-create Scorsese’s Gangs of New York right here in Queens, and the first person he thinks of is me. If he wants to play moviemaker, I’m about to show him a little Fatal Attraction!
“Thanks, Carl,” I muttered, wincing as his head slammed into the floor, “and good luck.”
Without another word, I was off, staying low as I weaved through the battle as best I could, making my way to the bar. I had to leap over broken furniture, duck flying projectiles, and dart to the side as tangles of intoxicated men barreled past me.
So glad I decided to wear my pajamas for maximum flexibility.
By the time I made it across the room, feeling like a ninja unaware, I was dismayed to realize what Carl meant when he said Nick was “barricading” himself at the bar. The thing was a fortress. Stacks of chairs and overturned tables were lined up around the perimeter, cutting off any and all access to the outside. What looked like an army of sporks stuck out from every available corner, hoping to catch the enemy off guard. Knowing Nick as well as I did, I was sure he was the one who’d sabotaged the fountain in the corner, hoping to create a little moat for added protection.
As if all of that wasn’t enough, there was someone perched high on the shelves amongst the bottles, a sniper firing shot glasses down with precision aim. He was bathed in shadows beneath the broken light, camouflaged in a souvenir hoodie to blend into the surroundings, so hidden that it took me a second to realize he was the man I’d been looking for.