Party Foul (Crow Bar Brute Squad Book 1) Read online

  Party Foul

  Abby Knox

  Copyright © 2020 by Abby Knox

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Proofread by Kasi Alexander

  Untitled

  Party Foul

  * * *

  Book One of Crow Bar Brute Squad

  * * *

  By Abby Knox

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Abby Knox

  Prologue

  Newcastle Dispatch, Evening Edition

  * * *

  Governor Resumes Campaign While First Daughter Parties On

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  By Ainsley Smith

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  Governor George Locke boarded his tour bus before dawn this morning to once again hit the campaign trail, citing “there’s still work to do,” while some critics say the real work that’s needed is on the image of his family.

  First daughter Fiona Locke has come under heavier-than-usual scrutiny lately after social media images surfaced of her attending college parties that seemed to imply she was in possession of narcotics.

  Combined with her repeated brushes with the law and complaining neighbors, some of Locke’s longtime supporters think they need to rein in the 24-year-old for the sake of saving his political career.

  “I have voted for Governor Locke in the past four elections because he’s been tough on crime. He’s done just okay. He’s had enough time to take down these crime families that run roughshod over our city and state, but now it’s time to put up or shut up,” said Rudy Sutcliffe, a longshoreman who lives in the troubled Dockside neighborhood.

  The Dockworkers Union has endorsed the governor’s opponent, Casey Fisher, himself a former union president who has criticized the governor of focusing too much on organized crime in the capital city of Newcastle, and not enough on the state as a whole.

  Still others have an even harsher message for the first family. Mary Rogan, whose Castle Hill address is far removed from the crime-ridden areas of the city, said after a recent PTA meeting at Longfellow Elementary School, where her two children attend, “I volunteered for his campaign in the early days, before I had children. We’ve all been very patient while the first family has been experiencing growing pains,” Rogan said. “And now, we think there may or may not be some kids of big time criminals attending these parties with her? It says to me that there’s a lot more going on with the Lockes than what we’re seeing.”

  Rogan added, “Honestly, it makes me question everything about that family. She’s a grown adult and they still can’t manage to keep her name out of the newspapers. If things don’t turn around, I doubt I’ll be voting for Governor Locke again.”

  In recent days, neighbors of the Locke’s estate in the Shoreline neighborhood have registered noise complaints and called police on trespassers that have allegedly spilled over from one of Ms. Locke’s notoriously raucous parties, according to the police reports.

  These complaints came at the same time as social media photos surfaced of Ms. Locke appearing to be in possession of narcotics at the aforementioned party, with other partygoers suspected to be connected to the Girardi crime family.

  The governor’s decision to spend the holidays campaigning around the state has also chafed many critics.

  “He should spend more time with his family around Christmas and New Year’s and less time trying to raise money,” said downtown shopper Rita Smith. “His wife’s family has money, he doesn’t need anything else from us but votes.”

  The governor’s campaign tour bus, which came with a $300,000 price tag, left the state capital at 5 a.m. this morning and is expected to conclude its whirlwind tour on Saturday in Newcastle, where a lavish fundraiser is planned at his family’s estate in the borough of Shoreline.

  When asked about the reports of his daughter’s behavior at the estate, Governor Locke replied, “Fiona is an adult who makes her own choices.”

  Currently enrolled as a student in the humanities school at Castle Hill University, Ms. Locke’s name has repeatedly appeared in the Newcastle Dispatch police blotter with her attendance at fraternity parties to which police have been called for vandalism, public drunkenness, and disorderly behavior.

  Charges against Ms. Locke have been quietly dropped each time her alleged antics have resulted in run-ins with police.

  The governor has declined to comment further on the matter with his daughter, or when she plans to graduate.

  According to sources close to Ms. Locke, speaking on condition of anonymity, the governor’s daughter is on her “sixth year of her five-year college plan.”

  Chapter One

  Levi loved taking out the trash.

  He especially savored moments like this one: removing a 187-pound sack of shit named Jerry Walls from Crow Bar.

  The back alley behind the neighborhood pub reeked of fish heads, and that’s where guys like Walls belonged.

  Walls’ stubby digits clawed at the longer, rangy fingers belonging to Levi that gripped him around his neck. The neon orange glow of the Crow Bar sign at the end of the alley glinted in Walls’ watery, bulging eyes. Levi made sure he wasn’t cutting off the man’s oxygen but squeezing the sides of his neck just enough to make the asshole panic just a little.

  “Usually I don’t gotta toss your ass out on a Thursday, Wallsy. What’s got you acting out? Wife lock you out the house for good this time?”

  Walls choked out, “Fuck you, Spanos.”

  That kind of talk was pretty brave for a guy whose cheap-ass boat shoes were helplessly flailing in the air five inches above the pavement.

  Levi scoffed, and bit back a wince at the slight strain in his triceps at the prolonged suspension of a drunk Walls at arm’s length.

  “That any way to talk to an old classmate?” Levi asked.

  Walls had a way of producing copious amounts of spittle whenever Levi threatened to cut off his oxygen. Fortunately, Levi was quick, and Walls was predictable. Levi ducked as Walls frothed, “You were a punk at Kennedy Middle, and now you’re just a loser. But congrats on
being bigger and stronger.”

  Still too much oxygen getting to Walls’ brain if he was able to grunt out that much of a speech. Levi squeezed a little harder. His dark imagining saw himself making a complete fist and watching Walls’ head pop off his neck, cartoon style. Levi would fuckin’ enjoy it.

  “Pal, I warned you last time to leave the female customers alone, but you didn’t listen. You just keep pushing the envelope, so now I gotta kick your ass.”

  Walls’ bugged-out eyes looked sideways at someone lurking between the backdoor and the delivery dock. Levi didn’t look—he knew better than to tear his focus away from his target—but he had a feeling he knew who stood there watching this whole unfortunate scene. He wished she’d go away.

  “What do you care? You can’t afford what that one charges per hour, I’ll tell ya that much,” Walls rasped, his face turning red, saliva frothing from his thin lips. That mouth never did stop running. Not at Kennedy Middle, and not now as a drunk spouting his nightly bullshit at Crow Bar.

  In a sick way, he was almost glad for a reason to toss this fucker out. He had had enough. Enough of Walls’ bragging that the capo of the Girardi family business owed him a favor; about how if the bartender kept cutting Walls off he was going to come back with one of the crime boss’s men to collect protection money; or about how that crime boss was going to invest in his latest get rich quick schemes. The guy was all hat, no cattle. Levi could let verbal bullshit slide on most nights, but tonight he crossed the line. Levi knew the capo. He had first-hand experience with the man who oversaw the family’s most lucrative rackets.

  Levi knew the capo only by his menacing sounding last name — Goring — but he wasn’t about to spill that to Walls. That was all he needed — for this blowhard to start using the actual names of mob members. Levi had worked several years to put the capo’s name, and that of the capo’s entitled 15-year-old brat named Christoph, out of his mind.

  Levi’s clenched fingers let go of Walls’ throat, but not before his increasingly taxed arm muscles let loose with one forceful, rage-filled shove.

  Walls hit the opposite wall of the alley and bounced off the steel backdoor of the boxing gym. The dirtbag’s body connected with the ground, knocking the wind out of him. He rolled to his side with a groan.

  “This is it. Do not show your face back here after this, Walls, or my fist is gonna make hamburger with your stupid face.”

  Walls scrambled to his feet and rubbed his throat, hoarsely replying as he backed away, “You won’t have trouble with me anymore, you and this shit hole are Girardi’s problem now.”

  Levi snorted a derisive laugh. “I’ll be waiting with bated breath for the guy doesn’t even know your name.”

  Unfortunately, Levi knew the Girardi name all too well, and wished he’d never been acquainted with that family in the first place.

  Levi watched Walls disappear around the corner, heard a door open and Walls’ scratchy voice shouting at a cabbie to take him to see “the capo.” In return the cabbie groused about not knowing what that was, which set Walls off into a tirade about how anybody in this neighborhood worth their salt knows who that was. Levi wasn’t about to offer the cabbie any clarification.

  Just hearing the boss’s title made Levi’s stress flare up and his palms sweat. Levi had first-hand experience with that ruthless shadow of a man. The memories made his insides roil. Walls had no idea what he was talking about. If he did, he surely wouldn’t be running his gin-soaked mouth.

  Thank fuck, Walls’ ranting and raving was muffled by the cab door slamming closed as it drove away.

  Amped up with testosterone coursing through his veins from the scuffle, every muscle in Levi’s body remained taut and ready to pounce with a thousand pounds of force. Channeling that pent up energy, Levi hoisted himself up onto the delivery dock and took out his frustration on a pallet of vodka. He ripped open the plastic packaging with the switchblade from inside his leather jacket and picked up a bottle. Mavis won’t mind if I use the cheap stuff. He unscrewed the cap and poured the clear liquid over his hands. After taking a quick swig, he set down the bottle and rubbed his hands together, letting the alcohol remove all traces of that piece of trash from his skin. He just felt better using alcohol along with his hand-washing routine. His post-pandemic brain carried its imprints.

  Spinning around to face the young woman, he had a mind to tell her to leave. Ordinarily he had no problem telling customers to hit the bricks. He did it about 15 times a night.

  Her plump bottom lip hanging open in shock at what she’s just seen looked sweet as cherries, but that wasn’t what caught him off guard. Neither did her widened, beautiful eyes make him unable to keep up his gruff persona. Her pointed chin slightly trembling? That was a problem.

  Oh shit. He’d scared her with that ugly mug of his. Not that he thought he was terrible looking, but he had a kind of crazy face when he was hopping mad. The take-down of Walls had been too short to work out the aggression. Levi worried the poor girl was looking back at him in fear that he might take out the rest of his energy on her. He would hate for her to think that, but he couldn’t hide his pissed-off face. And he definitely didn’t know what to do with someone who was crying.

  Levi could handle kicking ass and taking names. The man was a champion de-escalator as bouncer at Crow Bar. He’d tossed out biker gang leaders twice his size and three times as smelly.

  Blood and sweat? No problem. Tears? No clue how to deal. Man, woman or child, wet drops leaking from people’s eye holes was the Sudoku puzzle of human interaction.

  “Hey, uh… Sorry you saw that. You shouldn’t be out here.”

  She shook her head and dabbed the corner of her eye with the back of one delicate knuckle. He got a glimpse of a manicured fingernail, painted a soft brown color. Dark honey tendrils fell from the big bun on top of her head, into her face. “No, it’s not that. Fuck that guy, I wanted to watch you kick his ass for what he said to me. My stupid emotions got the better of me ‘cause nobody’s ever stuck up like that for me before,” she said.

  He found that difficult to believe. She was somebody’s girl, for sure. Levi took one step toward her and paused when his eyes fell to her open leather handbag. Then his gaze fell to her feet: she wore tall boots that spoke of old money. He couldn’t say why he specifically thought of old money, but those boots made him think of people who rode horses, but not in a cowboy kind of way. People who did that horse stuff in that one super-boring event in the Olympics.

  She was not from this neighborhood. Dockside girls didn’t dress like that. That was for sure. This one was from downtown, probably. Maybe Shoreline. Or the Historic District. Or Castle Hill. Definitely not the suburbs, and most definitely not Dockside.

  “Oh,” he said. “What…what about you? Are you okay?”

  Why was he stammering? This girl had him tongue-tied and he didn’t appreciate it.

  “Fine, I’m fine,” she said, her trembling breath telling Levi she was anything but. She was a stunner, with her emotions right on the surface. Flushed, breathing rapidly, a continuing drip of tears from the corner of her eyes. Her plump lips remained parted as she looked up at him, her breath escaping in hot plumes of steam in the December air. Her perky little nose was beginning to turn pink against the cold.

  If Levi got any closer, they could both be in trouble. An innocent, lost female like her was far too tempting of a release for all his surging adrenaline. Fuck, there would probably be lawsuits galore if he even dared touch someone like her; at least one of her parents had to be a lawyer, or somebody important.

  He took another step closer, still afraid of what he might do but unable to deny the pull. His body just wanted to be closer. When she didn’t shrink away, the urge was so powerful that it almost became a sound in his ears.

  Really? What are you gonna do, you big gorilla? Try to hug her? You’d probably crush her. A hapless ogre trying to pet a scared baby bunny, that’s what you are.

  And then, the girl step
ped away from the wall and inched toward Levi.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, ignoring the little shining puddles that kept on forming across her bottom eyelids.

  She’d been all but hidden in the corner booth all afternoon, studying all by herself, making very few demands on Crow Bar wait staff. The little bookworm with the tasteful handbag was traumatized.

  Her head shook. “Not yet.”

  Levi cocked his head. She looked terrified. Well, if she was scared, she’d done it to herself. Not Levi’s fault she followed him out here when he’d dragged Walls out into the alley when he refused to leave her alone. One thing was for certain, he needed to get her outta here and back to the other side of the river.

  “Time for you to go home, princess.”

  He regretted that word as soon as it was out of his mouth. She didn’t deserve that. She’d kept mostly to herself all day, and tipped well. A little too well.

  “I don’t have a car, I mean,” she corrected herself while dabbing her eye makeup with the edge of a tissue from her bag. “I do have someone coming; he should be here in a few minutes.”

  Called it, Levi thought. Of course she has a boyfriend.

  “What kind of guy leaves his girl alone at Crow Bar?”