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I needed solace.
Before I realized where I was going, I found myself at The Flask.
It was an old vintage bar that was nothing but familiar.
I sighed heavily.
I hadn’t been here in years.
I hadn’t finished the bottle I had in my hand as I wandered the streets, but something was pulling me toward the old bar. I grimaced. I was a fucking alcoholic.
The air was thick with cigar smoke, creating a hazy atmosphere that brought me some sort of twisted comfort. I didn’t usually drink at bars my family didn’t own, but the fact that this wasn't my bar gave it a newfound appeal.
This spot, in general, held a special place in my heart.
To be honest… it just made mefeelbetter.
This was the place where my old man first took me for a drink, back when I was just a young buck trying to figure out the world. I wasn’t even of legal drinking age. Hell, I was barely that now. But Tony, the bartender, let it slide.
He’d known my old man for years.
And his father before him.
It seemed to be a place for my dad to escape, too.
I didn’t understand it back then.
Why would we spend money going somewhere when we could get free drinks and be in the comfort of our home turf?
We didn’t have to worry about anyone starting shit.
I understood now.
Sometimes, it was nice to get away from all the bullshit and unwind.
Not that I didn’t know The Flask.
I just didn’t come here anywhere near what I used to — and none of my men ever came here. Neither did my brother or sister.
I could be alone here, except for the few drunks at the other end of the bar.
“Hey, Tony…” I slurred, feeling the weight of the scotch bottle I’d brought with me.
“You can’t bring that bottle in here, Luca…” he said sternly.
I nodded. “One of you gentlemen interested in a 50-year-old scotch?” I drunkenly asked the men at the other end of the bar.
Every one of them perked their ears and stood almost immediately. “I’ll give it to ya if you get the hell out of here.”
Tony glared daggers at me.
“I’ll make it up to ya, Tony.”
I held out my bottle to the three men, and with a nod and a friendly jerk, they took it and piled out the door.
You could usually count on alcoholics wanting free booze.
“You’d better pay their tabs,” Tony sighed, wiping the bar with a blue rag.
