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“What?” yelled Ian. He mouthed the words again, but Ian just shook his head, tapping his ear. The blood-curdling music blared, and Nine looked around, finding what he wanted. The old-fashioned jukebox in the corner was the culprit. Pushing it away from the wall, he unplugged it, the music slowly fading.
“Hey!” called the crowd.
Nine just stared at them, daring one of them to do anything. He was in a mood for a fight, and he didn’t care how many they were up against.
“Nine? Over there,” said Gaspar, pointing to a table on the back deck. Their two men were trying to get a waitress to smoke with them. She finally pushed past them, making her way back through the crowd as they surrounded the table.
“Get up,” said Ghost.
“What? Fuck off, Grandpa,” laughed the man.
“Grandpa?” chuckled Ghost. “I actually am a grandpa, but not your average everyday grandpa. I’m the kind that kills puppy killers.”
The two men swallowed, staring at the men again. They tried to stand but were met with steel resistance and grips that didn’t match the faces they saw.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter who I am,” said Ghost. “Your name is Leslie Michael Perkins. Sorry about that name. Had to be rough growing up with that.” His friend laughed at him, shaking his head.
“Leslie? You said your name was Mike.”
“Shut up! It is,” he frowned.
“Don’t throw stones at that glass house, my friend,” said Ghost. He stared at Ghost, cocking his head with a confused expression.
“Damn, you’re slow,” said Ian. “He means, don’t make fun of your friend, Gayle Marvin Hatch.”
“Shut up!” he yelled.
“Boy, don’t tell me to shut up. I will cut your tongue out and leave it on this table for the birds. Where are the puppies?”
“We don’t have them anymore.”
“Where are they?” growled Nine, twisting his knuckles into the side of the man’s neck. The pain was so intense he screamed out. There were several men sitting at a table, sipping beers. They had dogs at their feet, and Nine smiled.
“Where are the puppies?” asked Ghost.
“We don’t know,” said Perkins. “Dr. Marks picked them up and said she didn’t need any more right now.”
“You piece of shit,” growled Gaspar. “You abused and murdered puppies.”
“They was just dogs,” said Hatch. “Not like we killed people. What the hell does it matter?”
“It matters to us,” said one of the men at the other table. He looked at Nine, Gaspar, Ghost, and Ian. “Did you say these two fellas killed puppies?”
“That’s right. Dozens of them. The rest they abused, left for dead with infections, broken bones, starving.”
“You cops?” asked one of the other men.
“Nope. But we were going to take them in.”
“Don’t bother,” said another man, rising from the table. “We’d like to do you a favor and take care of this for you.”
“Gotta be careful, brother,” smirked Nine. “Can’t let anyone find any evidence.”
“We’ve done this a time or two,” said the man, pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt. The logo for the Marine Corps was emblazoned in ink on his bicep. Nine just laughed, nodding at him.
“I believe you’ve got this.” He turned to the two men. “Where is she? Where did she go?”
