21. UNCOIL #2
“Jules, cover the bar?” I ask. She shifts into position as I turn. “Do I know you?” I ask the drunk biker. He’s over fifty with long, shaggy hair and a gut too big for his stick legs. Is he fucking serious? He doesn’t even have a gun.
He laughs. “No, no. You don’t know me. I just can’t believe you're here. Did you really roll into a biker bar with two women? Has the mob changed that much since your daddy died, boy?”
“You knew my father?”
“Nah. Just of him. Saw ‘im around town a few times. I did odd jobs for Donovan’s crew back before they all took each other out. Damn though, you look just like him. Anyone tell you that?”
This drunk idiot. I learned long ago not to let anyone bait me by mentioning my dad, Donovan, or Volkov. Many have tried to rattle me with that shit—all have failed. “All the time. You and your friends going to cause us trouble? Or can we take the girl and go?”
“Johnny, is that you?” Pippa slurs her words.
Most of the initial group of guys have backed up. One druggy-looking scrawny guy is holding her, standing next to the big guy Hudson is squared off with.
“Yeah, Janey, baby, it’s me. Ready to go?” Hudson says, never moving his eyes from the oaf.
“Janey? You said your name was Catherine?” The guy holding her asks.
She laughs and slurs a few words I can’t make out.
“Who owns this place?” I ask the bartender.
“Who’s asking?”
“Did you not hear your buddy over here? I’m Enzo fucking Luciano.” That gets me a blink, like maybe he didn’t believe his friend knew who I was. Fair.
“I—” He clears his throat. “It’s my bar.”
“What’s your name?”
He hesitates before answering me. “Michael Dalton.”
“Listen, Michael. You have two choices: The girl leaves with us and no one gets hurt. Or the girl leaves with us and your patrons get wounded, your bar gets trashed, and the place gets swarmed by police. The call is yours.”
Druggy-guy holding Pippa speaks up. “Dal, don’t let him talk to you like that! It’s her choice. Tell them, baby. You want to be here.”
I don’t have eyes on what is going on, but I hear shuffling.
Then, Hudson says, “I got you, Janey. I got you.”
I hear the same guy call her Catherine and ask her to come back to him.
Michael looks around before yelling, “We’re letting them go, boys! Anyone causing trouble is on their own.” After some grumbles and weak protests, guns start to lower.
I tip my chin to Michael, and we slowly walk backward toward the exit, guns still raised, Pippa positioned in the center of the group.
Pippa is saying “Jules” and “Luna” and mumbling something. I think I hear her say the word “sisters” a few times.
Niko’s three backup men are outside the bar when we step through the doors.
“Make sure no one follows us.”
They agree and take position.
I turn to Niko. “Hudson and I are going to ride with the girls back to the mansion. Go with Luca and keep us covered as we drive.” He hesitates, but then tells the other three to follow us.
Luna takes the driver’s seat. I’m not sure whether my presence will help or harm, so I take shotgun. Jules and Hudson crawl in the back with Pippa. Even though every cell in my body wants to be back there making sure she is okay.
No one from the bar follows behind us. We drive slowly with three other cars surrounding us for security.
Jules has given Pippa a sip of water, and she tells Pippa to swallow something.
“Stupid implants,” Pippa mumbles. “I didn’t want to be found.” She’s still slurring, but her regularly fiery demeanor is secure.
“You know better than to turn off your phone,” Jules says.
I catalog the implant comment along with the sisters comments. I’m unsure if these are drunken ramblings or if they mean something more.
“I can’t do it, Jules. He’s gonna recognize me.” She’s nearly whining.
“Shh, let’s get you home,” Jules soothes, but Pippa repeats herself a few times.
“We’re taking her to the clinic. I already texted Eva to get the Doc to the house.”
Luna thanks me.
“No. I don’t want to,” Pippa murmurs.
“Oh well, Janey. We gotta get you checked out. Did you take anything?” Hudson asks.
“I don’t take drugs!” she almost yells.
“Okay, I believe you,” he says softly.
“Don’t believe me, I’m a liar. I lie about everything,” she mumbles.
I glance at Luna. She’s looking in the rearview at Jules.
Okay. I don’t want anything to be wrong with Pippa, but maybe loose tongues will open some doors here.
“Who is going to recognize you?” I probe.
That earns me a glare from Luna.
Jules clears her throat.
Hudson silently scolds me with a scathing look.
“Magnus. I mean, maybe he won’t. It’s been so long. My hair was different.”
“How long?” I ask.
“Enzo, enough,” Jules warns.
“No, we should tell them. Who cares anymore?”
“Pippa, sweetie, let’s just get you home, okay?” Jules assures her.
“Maribel? I don’t want to go home to that stupid island ever again!” Her voice rises with panic. She starts moving in the back seat. “Why would you take me back there?”
Luna curses and takes a deep breath.
“We aren’t taking you there, Pippa, just to see Doc. We have to get you checked out,” Jules tries to soothe her.
“No, no, not the doctor! Don’t let them take me. They’ll cut me open again. I’ll die this time.” Pippa starts fighting to get out of the car.
“Jules, what the fuck is going on?” Hudson asks quietly. He has her in his arms, trying to contain her, as she wails about not having another surgery.
“Hudson is here, Pippa. Let him hold you, okay. We are going to Enzo’s, okay?”
Pippa begins to take deep breaths as Hudson whispers in her ear. She mumbles about being confused before she starts to pass out.
I distinctly hear her say “Maribel Island” a final time. Jesus Christ. Is she saying what I think she’s saying? I make eye contact with Hudson—he’s clocking the same thing.
“We’re almost there,” I say. “Let’s get her to the clinic. Then, Jules, Luna, we’re going to talk about Maribel Island and Magnus Troy.”