Women huddle against the wall, and I see customers fleeing out the side door near the backstage.
The men notice it, too, and must realize they don’t have long to get away.
“Let’s go,” the ringleader with the shotgun shouts, and the other two vault over the bar. They’re gone as quickly as they came.
Everyone stands motionless for a moment, and then I whistle sharply. “Is anyone hurt?”
My fingers are already hitting 911.
I move to Ray. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“How much did they get?”
“Everything. The whole night’s take.”
“Thank God no one was hurt.” I try to maintain my composure, but on the inside, I’m barely holding it together.
The bar empties, and soon sirens can be heard approaching.
“I guess we’re closed for the night,” Ray murmurs.
“Yeah. I’ll deal with the cops. Could you find a company to come out tonight and board up that window?”
“I’m on it.”
I draw in a long breath, mentally preparing myself for a long night.
CHAPTER TWO
Maggie—
The next morning, I’m back at the bar at ten am, surveying the damage. I didn’t have the heart to make the staff stay and clean up last night. They were all too traumatized.
I’d heard of this happening at different businesses around town, but I never thought my bar would be hit, especially given our MC connection. But perhaps that’s not as widely known as I thought. Maybe it didn’t matter. These guys were looking for an easy mark, and the bar has a lot of cash. Surprisingly so, given this day and age.
I’m alone and sweeping the broken glass that litters the floor by the plywood-covered window when the front door creaks open, and in walk two Royal Bastards.
Once I see the leather cuts, I barely turn and continue sweeping glass into a dustpan.
One gives a slow whistle. “Damn, darlin’. Somebody get thrown through the window last night? That must have been one hell of a bar fight.”
I recognize the voice immediately.
It’s Utah.
“Worse,” I say. “We got robbed.” I stand and turn, and for the first time, my eyes lift to the man standing next to Utah, and my mouth drops open.
Sully.
I haven’t seen him in over a decade, but here he is standing in my bar like he’d just been teleported here.
My eyes sweep down and take in the leather cut he wears.
No.Way.
He’s aRoyal Bastard?