Gun Moll

“Hey Boss Lady?” My bartender, Terrance, walks into the back office. “There is a GTO sitting in front of the bar. It’s been there for a couple hours now.”

I sigh, closing my laptop, knowing exactly who is in that car. “Does the car contain two guys that look like fucking idiots?”

Terrance just blankly stares at me. “I-I don’t know how to answer that.” He chuckles. “I mean they kinda look like mafia goons, but yet they do look like idiots. What would you like me to do about them?”

I push myself from my desk and get up out of my comfy computer chair. “I’ll deal with them, Tee. Just pour two glasses of whiskey and set them on the bar. I’ll be back.”

“Alright, Boss Lady.” Terrance leaves my office. Shaking my head, I walk out of the office and then out of the bar. A sigh escapes my lips when I see the GTO parked outside my bar.

“I’m gonna kill him.” I mutter to myself before marching over to the car, slamming my hands on top of the hood, scaring the goons inside. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Patrick emerges from the car first. “Spencer wants us to keep an eye on you, Fallon.”

Ricky soon follows. “He said you ignored his concern and declined his offer to help protect you.”

“That is correct.” I tell them. “Now fucking leave.”

“And face Spencer’s wrath?” Patrick smirks. “Fuck no.”

A smirk appears on my lips as I move closer to Patrick, our faces are inches from each other. “If you don’t leave and stop scaring away customers from my bar, I’ll go inside and grab the baseball bat I keep by the register and bring it out and shove it so far up your ass that your intestines will be coming out of your fucking mouth.” My voice is calm and my facial expression hasn’t changed.

Patrick just keeps smirking at me. “You know for someone that hates violence, you are extremely violent when you want to be.”

“Leave. Both of you.” I motion between them. “And tell your boss that he can’t enter my life again and demand I accept his help from a possible danger he put me in.” I walk back to the bar.

“He still loves you!” I hear Ricky yell towards me.

“He just feels guilty!” I yell back before disappearing into the bar. I walk over to the bar and take one of the drinks Terrance poured and downed it before grabbing the other drink. “I fucking hate that man.”

“Who was in the GTO?” Terrance asks as I sit at the bar.

“Two men from my past that were sent by another man that wants to weasel his way into my bed again.” I grumble before sipping this whiskey. “He’s making up false danger to get me to run back to him. Apparently he made enemies and since we were together, three years ago, now I’m suddenly in danger. What fucking gives?”

“Who is this guy?” Terrance chuckles.

“Spencer Charnas.”

His face pales. “Do you have any idea who he is? He’s the newest Underboss of the Ricci Crime Family. Man is a legend known for his ruthlessness. My brother, who is a tough ass drug dealer, is terrified of him.”

“And he’s just Spencer to me.” I chuckle. “I was blinded by my love for him that I didn’t see the signs he was in the mob.”

“You didn’t know? How long did you date him?”

“Two years.” I reply. “For two years, I was so happy, so in love. And a stupid text message ruined everything. Fucking Ricky!”

“It sounds to me that you miss him deep down.” Terrance states, earning a glare from me. He raises his hands up in defense. “Just an observation. And it sounds like if it wasn’t for Ricky you’d still be in that life. I’m not sure if you’re mad about the violent life he lives or if you’re mad you’re not a part of it anymore.”

“Why do all bartenders act like therapists?” I smirk, letting out a chuckle before downing the rest of my drink. I push myself off the bar stool and smile at Terrance. “Let me know if there are any more problems, okay?”

“Will do, Boss Lady.” He exclaims as I walk back to my office to finish working…

**

It’s 2am when Terrance and I finally start closing up the bar. We make sure everything is swept and mopped for the openers. Just as I am counting the till, there is a bomb-like blast coming outside that’s loud enough to shake our windows and doors. It honestly sounded like an explosion. Both of us share a look before Terrance grabs the bat as we walk out of the bar.

A gasp escapes my lips when I see the aftermath of the loud noise; my cherry red mustang up in flames. I’m stuck in place as I stare at flames consuming my cars.

“I-I-I could have easily been in that car.” I gape on the wreckage as I hear sirens in the distance. “Tee, I could have been in there.” Terrance wraps his arms around me, prompting me to turn into his arms. I just break down crying, nuzzling myself into Terrance’s chest. The muscular man just wraps his arms around my tighter, letting me break down.

“Who would you like me to call?” He asks, before kissing the top of my head. “Do you want me to call Spencer?”

“Fuck Spencer.” I spit, pushing Terrance away. “Do not call him. I’ll figure out how to handle this myself?”

“And how do you plan on taking on Spencer’s enemies?”

“I’ll figure out something.” I reply. “I’m never calling Spencer for help. Not again…”

After talking to the cops and them taking my name, number and other personal information, Terrance takes me home; insisting he walks me up to my apartment to make sure I’m alright.

“Seriously, you should probably call Spencer, he’s the only one that could easily help you out in this situation.” Terrance urges as we climb the three flights of stairs to get to my apartment. “I mean he is the reason you’re being targeted.”

“I'd rather die than accept Spencer’s offer to help me.” I scoff as we make the landing on my floor. We walk closer to my door, noticing it’s swinging off its hinges. Terrance pushes me behind him as we walk towards the door. Peeking inside, I see my whole apartment trashed. Pictures are broken, mail tossed everywhere; paintings have knives in the canvases. The place was destroyed.

Pushing away from Terrance, I storm into the apartment and see a business card sitting in the middle of my coffee table. Picking it up, I notice the signature calling card of the Ricci Crime Family’s rival gang; The Cerulli Crime Family. I let out a frustrated scream before I start picking up items and trashing my own place; throwing things with reckless abandon.

“Hey, you’re fine!” Terrance stops me, pulling me close to him. “You’re fine.” He keeps repeating himself as he rubs my back.

For three years, I was free. Why now?