Black Coffee

The pianist struck the wrong key as he walked into the pub. His motorcycle boots clinked with the dusty tiles of the bar but he didn't mind the attention he was receiving. For as soon as he had graced 'Venus Tail' with his audacious presence, everything around him died down. There was only one soul that he recognized among the small fries… the only soul who never feared his cool demeanor. The saxophone player, Felix raised his free hand to salute him with a grin. Raoul returned the gesture with a slight nod.

As he sat opposite to the bartender Wilkins... the bald, stubby man, almost in his forties, passed him an empty glass.

"Ah, look what the cat dragged in. So, what would you like to have today?" the man asked in a gruff tone.

Raoul's lips broke out into a sly smile. "How about black coffee, old man?"

The bartender's eyebrows drew into a crease upon hearing his order. "This isn't a café, my boy. You, of all people, should know that. How about a margarita?"

He let out a chuckle. "Sounds nice but I have to pass."

"Another job, eh?"

He didn't reply but Wilkins knew the answer by the glint in his eyes... The man's eyes were the dull color of gray- a camouflage for the devil inside. The truth to the matter was… Raoul would have made a druggie look more innocent. Between him and his partner, they always had a bet to who could swindle more cash and shed more blood with the least number of bullets. A deadly hobby.

Wilkins took a step back. When he returned, he placed a dirty kettle on the counter and grinned. He began pouring him a cold cup of black coffee.

“So, who are you hitting tonight?”

Raoul didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted the glass and brought it to his lips.

“A politician or someone from the rival syndicate? Whoever it is… he must be a man with big bills. Or you wouldn’t take up the job, would you… Connors?”

Felix had started to play another jazz tune. It was an old classic played frequently down south. No one appreciated the music as much as he did.

Wilkins was still scrutinizing him with a keen eye. “You should drop this. Someday you will find yourself in a one-way alley with no way out.”

Raoul took another long sip of the cappuccino, silently contemplating on the words of the wise, old bartender. He wondered why men found it a necessity to remind him of the perils of his dangerous lifestyle. The ladies loved the bad boy while others envied him.

“I’ll stop when you start making good coffee.”

The old, bartender smiled with a shrug.

“I do hope this is the last time. You come hopping in again for coffee and I’ll be forced to boot you out, kid. Besides, your tab grows faster than my hair.”

Raoul took a final sip of his beverage and gulped it down. The liquid churned deep within his gut, until finally coming to rest in the hollowness of his stomach. It would keep him awake through the long hours to come.

The corners of Raoul’s lips twitched. “How much do I owe you?”

“Two hundred and fifty two… all in cash.”

“With or without the coffee?”

“Without.”

“Then put it on my tab,” Raoul answered with a wink.

Swinging his black jacket over his shoulder, he left the pub just as Felix stopped playing the last song of the evening.

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