Page 143 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

SEVENTEEN

“JOHN!”

John heard his cousin’s shout from behind him, but continued walking. His mind was entirely focused on one thing, and one thing only. He was just a few steps away from getting some answers. Or at least, something that would get him closer to finding out who exactly in his family had sent him that file.

Days later, and he was still looking for answers.

He’d been on the move for hours. Too many—he lost count. His phone wouldn’t stop ringing in his pocket. Buzzing and buzzing, and only irritating him more. He ignored it every time it rang.

He only knew it was the next day because the sun was out, and nightfall had already left him behind. Not that he spent it sleeping because he didn’t. He hadn’t even gone back home after he left.

Not once.

“John,” Andino called again, “wait up.”

Once again, John ignored his cousin. He grabbed the handle on the pool hall’s front door, and swung it wide open. The smell of liquor, and walls that spent years being coated in smoke from cigarettes and cigars smacked him in the face. Nobody could smoke in the place now, of course, but that smell just didn’t wash out. Sometimes, it couldn’t even be painted out.

“Jesus, John,” Andino growled, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

His cousin was right behind him, but John’s eyes were scanning the crowd. Men playing pool at the tables, and gathered patrons at the bar paying for drinks. It was only a little past noon, and already, it looked like quite a few of them were drunk.

Good, this would make things a lot easier for John.

Andino’s hand clapped John on the shoulder, but he brushed the touch off. He heard his cousin saying his name, and trying to talk to him, but he just had other things on his mind. Other shit to do.

Other fuckers to take care of.

Quickly, John found the fucker he was looking for. A short, chubby twenty something year old at the farthest pool table across the hall. Drake was his name. Or something like that. A foot soldier in a crew belonging to the same Capo of the enforcer who had delivered the file to John the day before.

“John, will you talk to me for a goddamn second?”

“In a minute, Andino,” John said.

He didn’t think to ask his cousin how he had found him, or why he was looking for him. Those were details, and at the moment, they were not the details John needed to know.

John headed across the pool hall, his strides long and heavy. He recognized a face or two, and a couple even called out his name with a wave. A greeting he otherwise would have returned, but at the moment, he just didn’t give a fuck. He was not here for them, and he had no interest in speaking to them. They would not help his cause.

Drake didn’t see him coming. He was too busy bent over the pool table, aiming for his next shot. A winning shot, if he had made it. The five hundred dollars sitting on the edge of the pool table told John that the guy wanted to make that shot.

The guy didn’t get to take the shot.

John grabbed Drake by the back of his shirt, and yanked hard. In one swift motion, John flipped the guy over, and smashed his back into the next pool table. Drake let out a shout, one filled with pain, but John only smiled at the sound.

A couple of the guy’s friends stepped forward, but Andino moved in fast. He always had John’s back. Ride or die, no matter what. His cousin was there, doing what he needed to do. Even if he didn’t know why John was doing what he was doing.

“Hey, Drake,” John said smiling coldly. “Looks like you and me need to have a fucking chat.”

Drake’s brown eyes widened, and words stumbled from his mouth. “About what?”

John chuckled. “Guess you’re going to find out, cocksucker.”

Uncaring about the people watching or those closing in around him, John kept a firm hold on Drake as he dragged him across the pool hall. Someone from behind the bar, a face John didn’t recognize, stepped out like he was going to help the guy. John just pointed a single finger at the man.

“Fucking try it,” John dared.

The guy held up his hands in surrender, and it only made John laugh. His face was recognizable. He’d been here before, but not to do this. Nonetheless, they knew who the fuck he was, and what he could do. They knew his last name, and what it meant in this city.

Nobody wanted to get fucking messed up with that mess.