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"Her man."
He sucks in air and then manages to pull himself together enough to stand. Neither of my brothers or my cousins would have taken that hit without retaliation.
"You think she's going to thank you for losing her account with us?" he sneers.
I crack my knuckles. "I think you're smart enough not to inconvenience her like that."
"I'm going to the cops. I'll press charges," he says, all bravado.
Some guys need an extra lesson to really learn. I give it to him. This time kicking him in the side of the knee. Not hard enough to break bone, but he goes down.
"Go to the cops," I dare him. "Five men will say I never left the house."
He's crying and holding onto his knee, showing enough smarts not to get up. "But Lucia saw you. She's not going to lie to the cops for you."
"She won't have to. You make a nuisance of yourself and I'll take care of it. It's my specialty."
"Are you threatening me?"
"If you need to ask, you're not paying attention."
"You can't do that."
I roll my eyes. "You'll keep supplying Lucia's club with as much of your product as she wants. You will not call the cops, or tell your Uncle Harry—"
"I don't have an Uncle Harry."
"Are you really this dense?"
"No." He shakes his head and wipes snot and tears from his face with the back of his hand. "I understand what you are saying."
"How close are you going to stand to Lucia?"
"Two feet." His answer is immediate.
He's finally getting it.
"Are you going to tell anyone about our discussion?"
"No."
"Good. Lucia's customers like your beer. It would be a shame if you weren't around to make it for them anymore."
To show what a reasonable guy I am, I help him to his delivery van. If I drag him so he has to hustle on his sore leg, well, what can he expect?
I don't have time to mollycoddle the man. Lucia is waiting for me.
Chapter 9
LUCIA
There's something wrong with me. When Atlas comes in acting like Cro-Magnon man, I soak my panties. I should feel badly for Shawn. Atlas clearly intimidates him.
Only, the ale distiller has always been flirty, and lately he's gotten a little aggressive with it. I've turned him down no less than four times for dates, but he never gives up.
Maybe now he will.
Atlas comes back into the storage room as I'm setting one of the crates of ale on the shelf.
