What Have You Done(53)

Liam matched his step. He tried to keep his voice at a hushed whisper, but he could see the others in the bar starting to turn to see what was going on. “You’re either going to sit back at that bar, or you’re going to leave. I don’t care which. Just get away from me. Now.”

“Screw you!”

“Go.”

Guzio threw his glass down as hard as he could. Liam didn’t follow it, but heard it smash onto the floor; the sound of tiny shards bouncing across the stained black-and-white tiles filled the place. Vanessa had done the same thing to him in their kitchen only hours earlier.

“Hey!” the bartender cried. He was an older man with a thick white beard. “Both of you get out, or I’m calling the cops!”

“The cops are already here!” Guzio shouted, laughing. “This pig right here is threatening me.”

“I don’t care who’s saying what. Get going, or you’ll have to tell your stories to the responding officers.”

Liam stared at the little man as the rest of the place went quiet. He wanted nothing more than to throttle him so he’d never get up, but he couldn’t risk the repercussions from either the police that would be called or the other patrons who would undoubtedly take the side of the insignificant blue-collar hotel owner over a cop. He stepped to the side to make his way out of the bar.

“No need to call anyone,” he said calmly. “I’m leaving.”

As Liam passed Guzio, the pudgy man grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer. “Maybe instead of getting drunk at a dive bar, you and your boys should be out looking for the guy who made corned beef hash out of that pretty young thing.”

And that was what it took. Without any further thoughts of reason or consequence, Liam punched Guzio as hard as he could. He felt his knuckles crush the little man’s nose and heard the crunching of bone and cartilage echo throughout the bar.

Guzio fell back, unconscious before he landed on top of the table Liam had been sitting at, then onto the floor. Within seconds, two sets of strong hands grabbed Liam and threw him onto the ground. He couldn’t see who had him but couldn’t mistake the sound of a cocked shotgun. The voice of the bartender was loud and clear.

“Cops are on their way,” he said. “You stay put until they get here.”





40

When Guzio opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was how dark it was. Night had taken over, and he couldn’t see. The second thing he noticed was the pain. His entire head pounded. He pushed himself up from his couch and stretched into a sitting position, using what little strength he had to wipe the drool from his cheek that had seeped onto one of the cushions. When the room stopped spinning, he gently touched his nose and winced as he felt the pain course through his entire body. It’d be a while before that healed.

By the time he’d fully regained consciousness at the bar, the police were already on scene, and they had the other cop in the back of one of their cars. Guzio had given his statement and wanted to press charges, but he knew how pigs covered for one another, and there was no way these guys were going to allow that. In the end, the EMTs had patched him up, given him a handful of painkillers, and called a cab to take him home. When he’d arrived at his house, he’d popped a few pills, crashed on the couch, and passed out.

Guzio stood on shaky legs and walked into the hall where the keypad to his alarm system waited. The numbers were fuzzy, his eyesight coming in and out of focus. He stabbed at them with a fat finger and set the code to activate.

Beep… beep… beep…

“One more day,” he said aloud to the empty room. “Tomorrow I’m back in business. Enough with those cops. Tomorrow night the Tiger reopens, and it’s gonna be huge.”

He rushed toward the landing before the ground floor sensors came on, and when he reached the top of the stairs, he heard the alarm sound off to indicate the device was now live. He had door alarms on both the front and back doors, window sensors on each ground floor window, and motion sensors in his living room, kitchen, and hall. There was nothing on the second floor. A full system was too expensive. If someone were to break in, they’d use the bottom floor. If they bothered to climb a gutter or scale one of the large oaks in his backyard or drop in from the roof, they could take whatever they wanted. At that point, they would’ve earned it.

Guzio stumbled into the bathroom and started the shower. He turned on the radio that sat on the side of the sink and could feel the beating of his heart in his head. A few minutes in the hot shower before turning in would surely make him feel better. Then it was back to business tomorrow. Back to life.

The water was hot, just the way he liked it. He took off his clothes and kicked them into a pile under the sink. He stepped into the tub and allowed the slow burn to run over his head and down his body. He lay down in the tub and let the shower massage him. The heat felt good. He placed a washcloth over his eyes and winced as it hit the bandage on his nose. The sound of the radio began to carry him to a different place. Tiny dots of light starred the black canvas of sightlessness and randomly popped different colors as his thoughts began to run into one another, eventually trailing off into nothing. He fell back to sleep in a matter of minutes.



Again, Guzio opened his eyes, and again he momentarily lost his center, forgetting where he was. The darkness. The pain. His sight line was partially obstructed by the water splashing onto his chest. He moved to sit up. The washcloth that had been on his face fell into the tub.