noirsealed part 2

The next day, Cucali got a call.

"Hey, babe. We've got a new job for you."

"I ain't your baby. Now go on."

"Got a few cats grouping up in that bar on the corner. It's gettin' hot. Now we all know you've got the best guns in the business, babe, so I want you to go in there and clear things up for both parties."

"You got a contract on 'em?"

"Try to avoid it if you can, but we can explain a few bodies."

"Yeah, I'll be right over. And one more thing, Dennis."

"Yah?"

"You call me babe again and you're a dead man."

"Ha! See you later." /Click./

Cucali suited up and headed out in her fine-arse black Sedan, making a few calls as she drove. In the end, when she went up to the bar, she had a group of lackeys following her. She opened the doors, and took in the situation.

A man had Paloma by the arm, a gun to her head, with a small group behind him. Another group stood on the opposite side of the room, watching them warily. Their heads turned to Cucali when they saw her.

"So," Cucali drawled, "what's the situation, boys?"

"These boys're tryin' to squeeze me out of my bar. Look at 'em, they're holdin' my best entertainer on ice and everythin'!"

"Now that ain't so. This is just a little insurance." Paloma grimaced as the gun was shoved against her temple. "See," the man went on, "this fella won't pay up his bills. He don't pay, we make him pay. Simple, no?"

"Alright," Cucali said as her men fanned out behind her. "This is what we're gonna do, boys."

"If you do anything, I'm blowin' this bird's brains out."

"You wouldn't!"

"Shut up!" Cucali barked. "Do I look like I give a shit? You," she gestured with her gun to the man who owed money, "cash register. Now. What's yours is now his."

"You can't-"

Cucali fired a shot at his feet. "I most certainly can, honeybunch. March!"

"And as for you," she turned to the other man, "you're gonna exchange the girl for the goods, no funny business."

"So long as it's enough."

"Good. Great." Cucali grinned. "We're all friends here, now ain't we?"

The man scrambled to go to the cash register, grabbing at the hundreds and fifties. He took them over to one of the other man's lackeys, who accepted and counted the cash.

"Looks like we're good, boss."

"Good. Now, just so you don't do this again..." The man unlocked his safety, his finger going for the trigger. Cucali acted instantaneously, shooting him in the leg. His hand jerked up, firing a shot into the ceiling instead of Paloma's head - and the girl took the opportunity to twist out of his grip and run.

"Ha ha, real funny. We're all laughin', ain't we? ... AIN'T WE?", Cucali bellowed, eliciting some nervous chuckles from the crowd. The shot man aimed his gun at Cucali, only to pause when he noticed she already had her revolver trained on his head. "You're gonna take your money and run, asshole, and be glad I didn't aim a little higher."

"You little bitch," he snarled, but he didn't fire. His lackeys helped him out, Cucali's men moving to let them pass.

Cucali spared one last look at the bar, and turned to leave as soon as the other group had cleared out.

She noticed that the singer was staring at her.