A Broken Wing

It's Not Over Yet

You take a few steps into the bar and hear some low music playing. Looking around the room you could see three different men sitting at the bar, none of which were Bobby. Then your eyes laid on him, in a booth in the far back corner, making sure you knew where the back entrance was you make your way to the dark corner of the room.

"There she is!" He has a pint glass in his hand taking over sized gulps of some sort of dark beer. He always drank dark beer; he said any man who drank the light stuff was no man at all.

You take a seat in the opposite side of the booth. Trying to not make it obvious that you were keeping an eye on the three men at the bar. You had no idea what ones were the detectives but you knew that Mike had said two where in here.

"So, what was your plan this time? Run off to this shit hole of a town and find someone who could rescue you? So you could live in a shit house and in an incarceration town at that? You really have your head on backwards don't you?" He turns up the glass finishing the drink then slamming the glass on the table.

"No, Bobby I didn't-" He cuts you off

"Don't give me fucking excuses. You know I OWN you! You are mine. And if I find out that shitty little friend of yours has touched you in any way he will wish he was dead before I'm done with him." He taps the glass on the edge of the table as a timid waitress comes over to replace it with a full glass.

"I'm not giving you excuses and whoever you're talking about I have no idea. I've not been with anyone but you." You finally remember the signal and place your hair behind your left ear hoping someone will notice. Your eyes dart over to the bar and watch the three men.

"What do you keep looking at?" His voice getting deeper and full of anger.

"Nothing Bobby. I just was hoping for a drink." You flatten your feet and grip your phone tightly under the table. It vibrates and you try to hide that.

"What was that? Give me your phone!" He snaps at you and throws his hand down on the table palm side up. "NOW!"

"Its nothing Bobby. I just want to get out of this place."

Out of your peripherals you see a shadow move with two others behind it. You couldn't tell who it was but you were hoping this was it. Coming into the dim lights of the bar you see Mike walking in with two large men behind him. Recognizing both of them as the two muscle Bobby never went anywhere without.

"You were saying?" He turns in the booth to make eye contact with Mike. "So you're the little shit who has been harboring my prize." He stands up and steps up to Mike. Bobby was a towering 6' and was quite a bit taller than Mike, but size never meant anything. You proved that many times in the past.

"I'm not harboring anything, but I guess if you want someone to blame." He turns in a flash and pulls his pistol out shooting the two larger men in the chest and they drop. Then pointing his gun at Bobby.

This commotion had the two men on the far left of the bar on their feet guns drawn and pointing at Bobby.

"Stand down Mr. O'Brian!" The one to the left hollered out at him.

"Oh, you think this is a game?" Bobby steps forward towards Mike still pointing his gun at Mike's face.

"No game here" Mike whispers then grabs Bobby's gun throwing it behind him and it lands at the feet of the detective to the right. He steps forward and hits Bobby across the face with the butt of his gun. Bobby drops to the ground, blood spilling from his mouth.

"Oh, you have fucked up now!" Bobby tries to get up, but before he gets a chance, Mike is on top of him beating him repeatedly with his gun. More and more blood spills on the flood from Bobby's face. He coughs and sprays some blood on mikes shirt.