Chapter 39

“Kind of dumb not to lock the door,” one said in a mocking tone. His ski mask revealed his little pig eyes and a pair of fat lips. “This is a stick-up. We want everything in your cash register.”

Noah stood there with his shoulders slumped. “Do you know how long we’ve had this tavern, Gabriel?”

“I do. Almost twenty-one years.”

“Almost twenty-one years,” Noah agreed. He sighed. “In all that time, Pop was never held up—not once. He’s gonna be so disappointed in me.”

“Uh, excuse me?” the same man said. “Did you not get the message? You’re being robbed.”

“Stay put, Noah.” Gabriel placed himself between the thieves and Noah.

My hero. Not that it was necessary. Noah kept a shotgun behind the bar, if he could just get to it.

“I think you yahoos are in the wrong establishment.” Gabriel’s voice was ice cold. “I’m advising you to leave.”