Packing Heat(2)

She told me who to look at. She told me to try this bar.

It was a mafia bar, she said. Everyone there would be mafia, more or less. She said I needed to be careful.

I was being careful. I sipped my drink and strained to listen, but the conversations around me were all pretty mundane—sports, stocks, business, the usual boring stuff. The men were loud and some looked like wise guys, but it was really hard to tell.

When I first started, I didn’t know anything about the mafia, but now I felt like I was intimately acquainted with the Barone Crime Family. I didn’t know all the members, but I knew the key ones.

Arturo Barone was the leader and an awful man. Lucas Barone, his son, was an up-and-coming leader. There were other men, like Vincent Mori and Gian, bosses in their own right.

But for as close as I felt to the mob, there were still huge gaps in my knowledge. As I looked around, I realized that I didn’t recognize a single face in the sea of faces, and that was probably bad.

I should have known at least one person. I was supposed to be an expert on this stuff, and yet I didn’t know a single person while sitting in the mob’s own bar.

Just then, I felt someone sit down next to me. I glanced over and then back to my drink, and then I did a double take.

He smirked at me. Green eyes, handsome face, stern and delicious lips. He was tall, easily over six feet, and covered in muscles. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing intricate tattoos.

“You’re looking around like you’re lost,” he said.

“I’m not lost.”

He shrugged. “Good. This isn’t the kind of place you want to get lost in.”

“Why’s that?”

He gestured at the barman and ordered a whisky.

“Lots of bad men in here. But I think you knew that already.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

He nodded at me. “That dress. The way you’re sitting alone, looking around. Are you looking for bad men?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

He smirked again as his whisky came and he sipped it. “What’s your name?”

“Jessica,” I lied, using the name I had chosen in advance.

“Jessica, I’m Rafa.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“I don’t think it is nice to meet me. You don’t know me yet, girl.”

“Are you a bad man, Rafa?” I asked, leaning toward him.

He laughed. “Depends on what you think is bad.”

“What do you think is bad?”

“I think you’re a fish out of water, and that interests me.” He leaned toward me. “You’re going to be mine tonight, whether you know it yet or not.”

I blinked, surprised. Coming from any other man that would have been so offensive, but for some reason Rafa just . . . pulled it off. I couldn’t explain it. When he said it, I believed him.

And that scared me. I quickly took a drink to cover my embarrassment.

He laughed and slammed back his whisky. “Don’t be so fucking shy, girl. You came here looking for trouble. I decided I’d give you a taste.”

“I don’t want trouble. I just came for a drink.”

“Okay, a drink.” He nodded at my glass. “Drink up.”

“I’m okay for now.”

He laughed and ordered another whisky. “What do you do, Jessica?”

“I work in PR,” I said, lying again.

“What company would hire a girl like you to do their PR?”

“What does that mean?”

“Look at you. Short dress, perfect fucking legs, eyes that scream sex, sitting in a bar surrounded by dangerous men. You’re trouble; I can already feel it.”

“Do you like trouble?” I asked him.

“I do,” he said, smiling. “But I’m not sure you really know what you’re playing with.”

He slammed his drink back again, and I was impressed at the way he laughed at me again. Toward the back of the room, two men stood up and began to argue loudly.

He turned toward the commotion. I realized most of the room was staring at them, watching their voices getting louder. I couldn’t understand what they were arguing about, but I got the sense that it was a business deal that had gone wrong.

The whole atmosphere shifted in the room. There was an edge to the people as they leaned forward in their seats. I felt like I was suddenly surrounded by a bunch of hungry wolves, and they were all about to attack.

I was afraid.

Rafa stood up. “Come on,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

He took my hand, pulling me from my seat. “Come on.”

He started walking, letting go of my hand.

I glanced at the front door. I could have turned around and gotten out of there. I could have walked out into the night and just kept walking. I could have never looked back, never thought about following Rafa, the handsome stranger.