That move freed up Oz to give his full, undivided attention to the second jerk, who happened to be the best fighter of the three men. But he was not in Oz’s league. Oz traded blows with the man for several seconds, until he was able to grab the man from behind and put him in his own version of a chokehold, his big arms holding the man so tight that the veins in Oz’s arms were popping.
But the man was strong, too, and he was able to flip Oz over his shoulder and toss him onto a table. The impact of the toss, and Oz’s big, muscular body, caused the table to break in two. And caused Oz to feel the full force of that toss in every inch of his back.
Now Oz was mad.
He got up and ran at that man as if he was a bull running at a matador. His head barreled into the man’s stomach, knocking the man off his feet and running him backwards, until he was able to body slam him to the floor. And Oz jumped on top of him and began beating him down. He beat him and beat him until the man was knocked out too.
And then Oz, satisfied that he took care of each and every one of those clowns, got up on his feet. He was exhausted, and his back was killing him, but at least he won the fight. There was no doubt about that. He was the victor. And some patrons in the bar agreed, as they clapped at his prowess.
But then he turned around with a ready smile for Jennifer. She was the one he wanted. He knew her fine ass would be more than happy to join him at his place after witnessing that kind of machismo. What woman wouldn’t?
But he didn’t see Jennifer at all. She had, apparently, fled from that bar as soon as the fight broke out. What he did see, however, was a baseball bat right in his face. A baseball bat with the angry owner of the establishment holding it, an owner who knew he was going to lose thousands that night because of Oz and his disruption. He knocked Oz across the head with such determination that Oz, who had been ready to celebrate his victory, and who was caught so off guard, whirled around in a daze, amazed by the turn of events, and then fell straight out, like a sack of flour. It was a fall so mighty and unnatural that the dust of the floor bounced up in a thick plume, as soon as Oz Drakos fell down.
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning a big, boxy-looking Infiniti SUV pulled up outside of the Apple Valley Police Station and the bodyguard jumped out of the front passenger seat and hurried to open the back-passenger door. Alex Drakos, one of the richest men in America, stepped out of the truck, buttoning his Armani suit coat, and made his way inside.
Oz was standing at the release desk, signing papers, when Alex walked in. Some of the workers in the station nudged each other when Alex walked in, mainly because they knew he owned The Drakos, just as they had nudged each other when Oz was arrested last night. But Alex ignored their nosiness and walked over to his younger brother.
“I was only gone two days,” Alex said, as if whenever he was out of town Oz always managed to get into trouble. Even if he was away just two days. Then he exhaled. “How do you feel?”
“Like I was hit by a tank,” Oz replied as he put on his shades to conceal his bloodshot eyes, and continued to sign paperwork. Then he looked at his big brother. “What are you doing here?”
“Kari told me what happened when she met my plane. She said you were still here, so I dropped her off and came over to see what was going on for myself. Have you had a hearing?”
“Hell no. It wasn’t my fault! Even the bartender spoke up on my behave. Those guys jumped me, and the owner clocked me with a baseball bat. But they arrested me, despite all of that. They processed me in, but they had to process me right back out. A process that takes far longer than I feel is decent, given that I’m an innocent man.”
“Innocent my ass,” Alex said and Oz laughed his loud, booming laugh. “You’ve never been innocent a day in your life. Besides, you needed to sleep it off.”
“Not in jail, I didn’t!”
“Well, you did. It’s over now.”
“I don’t get it. What am I to do when three men decide they want a piece of me? Give it to them?”
“Stop frequenting those seedy bars you like to frequent,” said Alex.
“But I’m telling you, brother, it wasn’t my fault.”
“It never is, Odysseus. It never is. Just bring your ass on.” Alex began heading out. Oz signed the last form, handed it to the desk sergeant, and then headed out too.
Once outside, Oz got into the back of the SUV, beside Alex, and the bodyguard closed the door.
As the bodyguard got onto the front passenger seat and motioned for the driver to take off, Oz looked at his brother. “You know what the chief asked me when they first arrested me?”
“No.” When Oz didn’t continue, Alex looked at him. “What?”
“He asked if my brother was going to bail me out.”
Alex smiled, and then laughed. “You’re as rich as I am!”
“But they don’t believe it.”
“That’s because you won’t make it clear,” said Alex. “You don’t mind if they think you’re mooching off of me.”
“I don’t mind one iota,” Oz said. “Let them think I’m my brother’s leech all they care to. That way, they won’t bother me with all kinds of get-rich-quick schemes and all of that help me with this, help me with that nonsense the way they bother you.”
Then Oz realized they weren’t headed to The Drakos. “Where are we going? I thought we were going home.”
“We are,” said Alex. “But I need to swing by Kari’s old office and pick her up.”
“What’s she doing there?”
“She still owns the place,” said Alex. “She checks up on it every chance she gets. I dropped her off on my way coming to get you.”
“That makes no sense. She’s married to a billionaire, a billionaire, but she still feels a need to hold onto her little ma and pop shop just in case?”
“You’re a billionaire,” said Alex, “and you feel the need to live as though you’re some bar bum? Living in an apartment in my hotel when you can build your own hotel. That’s what makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Oz corrected him. “Your riches can be traced to your business dealings here in the States. My riches, well, let’s just say my riches aren’t as easily traceable. I don’t want to get myself deported. Or worse.”
Alex looked at his brother. “You’re completely out of that shit, though, right Oz?”
“What shit?” Oz asked, although both brothers knew full well.
Oz looked straight ahead. And didn’t elaborate any further.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As Lucinda Mayes got out of the car parked in front of her diner, she pressed the button on her key fob and her trunk sprang open. She and Gloria Sinatra, who got out on the passenger side, made their way to the trunk where both women grabbed a box each of the three boxes inside the trunk. The overhead sign still read Lucinda’s Diner, but Gloria was certain to change it soon. Lucinda closed her trunk and the two ladies headed toward the entrance.
“I’m going to miss the old girl,” Lucinda said as she kept staring at her old diner.