Then she left.

Sam raised his eyebrows as if to say goodbye and calmly returned to his beer.

The man in charge stepped to within a few feet of Sam and pointed a finger at him. His arm was covered in tattoos.

‘This the Brit?’ he demanded in a gruff voice.

‘Yup.’ Jay responded with a smirk, pushing himself from the bar. The man in charge forced a smile at Sam and then turned his attention to the bar.

‘Sorry, gentlemen, but the bar is closed. Please vacate the premises immediately.’

The few customers grumbled in annoyance, but they obliged quickly. As they shuffled to the exits, none of them looked Jay in the eye as he smirked at them.

They weren’t real Riders.

As the final customer left, Jay closed the door behind them and then stood, colossal arms folded across his barrel-like chest, and nodded to the boss. Sam put his bottle down and looked up at the man.

‘I’m assuming you didn’t want me to leave, right?’

The man ignored Sam’s comment and coolly slid himself over the bar stool beside Sam, facing outwards. He leant back, propping both elbows on the bar, as if trying to calm the situation. It was a clear tactic, one that Sam was sure had worked a number of times. But from the corner of his eye, he noticed the other man move into position a few feet behind him.

They were strategically moving into position, like a chess player looking for checkmate.

The man in charge pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and then offered one to Sam. As Sam declined, the man shrugged, tossed the pack onto the bar, and exhaled a plume of smoke.

‘I’m Mason. I run this bar. Now usually, it’s a pretty easy gig, you know. Not hundreds of guys like us here in the Bronx.’

‘Ain’t that the fucking truth,’ Donnie uttered, drawing a glare for interrupting.

‘See, we might get a bad rep for what we believe in…’ The man stopped and Sam turned to him.

‘Jonathan,’ Sam lied.

‘…Jonathan, but we are fair. One of the things we value is our privacy. Our business is our business. It’s the way it’s always been and the way it will always be. So, I’m going to ask you nicely, who are you and what the fuck do you want?’

Sam turned to look at the man, who stared back with hatred.

‘I’m looking for Alex Stone.’

‘Who is Alex Stone?’ Mason said, his gaze unwavering.

‘Alex Stone. She worked here. I know that for a fact and when I mentioned her name, your attack dog butted in and just mentioning her name seems to have pissed you guys off. So, I think I’m in the right place.’