Free Cigar Bar by Dion Perkins

small wound to the shoulder. What saved her life was the fact that when she dove, the men were also struck while they were shooting at her.
    It hurt like hell. To make matters worse, she had some sort of bag over her head. She couldn’t see a damn thing, and all she heard were men arguing in a foreign language.
    Then the bag was removed. Sitting in front of her was Mr. Y, and in his hand he held a glass of vodka. “Hello, young lady,” he said. She couldn’t respond because there was tape covering her mouth. “Do you know where I can find the rest of my money? Your friend with the eyes, I never had a chance to meet him…I’m hoping you can tell me who he is and where I can find my money. Okay, fine.” He stood up and instructed one of his men to remove the tape.
    The first thing that she did was scream. “My brother is going to fuck you up if you hurt me!”
    The men laughed and Mr. Y nearly choked on his vodka. “You almost made me spill vodka. Now pay attention. I don’t care about your brother or anyone else! Just give me my fuckin’ money!” he said as he walked up and squeezed the girl’s face extra hard.
    She shook loose. “Fuck you!”
    Mr. Y looked at the young girl and asked, “Was that your brother who came up and killed my men?”
    “Hell fuckin’ yeah, and when he finds you, he’s gonna do the same thing to your ass!” Dawn promised.
    Mr. Y grabbed his chin and walked into the other room with the man. They spoke in their language. He spoke to Dawn again when he returned. “Tell me the name of the man you call your boyfriend.”
    “Well, his name is Tony, and he’s supposed to be coming to pick me up later on today. Listen, I don’t think I can do anything for you, so, please, just let me go.”
    “On the contrary, ma’am, you can do something big for me.” Mr. Y came so close to her face that she smelled the pungent odor of vodka and cigars. She gagged and almost threw up. And to make matters worse, he was also spitting in her face, and she couldn’t wipe it off because her hands were tied.
    Dawn said, “Do me a favor please since I’m tied up already. I’ll do whatever you want, just get the fuck out my face, please! Dayum! You’re spitting on me and shit, and your breath is fuckin’ horrible !And could somebody wipe my face, please?”
    The mobsters fell to the floor laughing. Even Mr. Y had laughed so hard that he had to take off his glasses because his eyes had watered.
    “Humph. Oh my goodness! You are very spunky, young lady!” he said, a smile on his face. “Okay.” He motioned toward his men to remove the girl’s ropes. She rubbed her hands together and took the bottom of her shirt to wipe the spit off.
    “Can I ask you a question, Mr.?”
    “Sure,” he said, motioning for her to follow him.
    “Why did they kill my friend?”
    He turned to her and said, “I am sorry.” He said nothing else.
    “Are you gonna kill me too?” she asked. “Because if so, I’m not going in no back room. You can just kill me right here!”
    He smiled. “No. We like you. You will live. But I cannot let you go until we speak to your brother.” He turned and began to walk into an office.
    Dawn was right behind him. All of the bodyguards, except his right-hand man, actually walked away and left them.
    Mr. Y walked in and sat behind an enormous expensive desk and loosened his tie. His man went to a cabinet and took out three glasses, pulled out a bottle, and poured some alcohol. He handed one to the girl, and Mr. Y and the man watched her.
    She smelled it first, then threw the whole thing back, made a crazy face, and then shook it off. The two men screamed something in their language and pointed at her. They smiled and followed suit by tipping theirs back, then slamming the glasses onto the table.
    “You know something?” Mr. Y tells the girl, “We have men come in here and drink what you have just drank and couldn’t take it…and fall on floor like little baby, but you are strong.