John tensed and held his breath. This was not how he’d hoped things would go down. He heard Simon swallow loudly next to him.

‘Hello, dad,’ John breathed, his breath shaking. ‘I’ve been hunting you for a long time.’

‘As I’ve been hunting you, son.’

Simon remained petrified, staring jaw clenched at their mother whose eyes were pleading, her face streaked with tears.

John pressed his lips into a thin line. He had tried so hard to keep them safe. But his father, just like he’d been all thirty years of John’s life, was one step ahead and ready to do the unthinkable.

John cursed himself internally. He had his earpiece in his ear still, but he had switched it off after the altercation at his brother’s bar. He needed a way to switch it back on without arousing suspicion, without tipping his father off.

His father was like any other criminal he’d taken down, though, he had to remind himself. He had to get him off his guard to get the upper hand. To do that, he had to find out what made him tick. And to find that, he had to keep him talking. Knowledge was key.

He considered reaching for his gun and realized he should have done so the moment they had walked in.

The muzzle of a gun pressed against John’s temple as someone behind him stepped towards him and unclipped his gun, tossing it towards his father. Someone else held a gun to Simon’s temple. Their father’s lackeys, a man behind John, by what he could gather, and a woman behind Simon, were smirking.

‘Now, sit, boys. Let’s catch up.’

John had to keep his nerves in check, allowing his breathing to keep his heart from beating out of his chest completely. He saw Simon wasn’t faring so well. Without the training John had received, he reckoned he’d be in an even worse state than his brother was.

Their father’s lackeys shoved Simon and John to some chairs and sat them down, binding their hands behind the backs of the chairs. The rope was brittle, it splintered and burned, but John knew how to get himself out of it — if he was careful and worked slowly. Getting to his gun was another story.

Their father turned to them. ‘Now, let’s talk about that disappointment of a son I have who decided to betray me and became, what is it, an agent, detective?’

‘Detective John Miller, Mr. Miller,’ John replied professionally. ‘I’m sorry you saw it as a betrayal, dad, but at the end of the day, Tyler Miller is just another criminal.’

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Simon entered the bar, walking straight over to the bar counter where Rita, his friend and barmaid, was cleaning glasses. The sun had just barely set and Simon was glad to see the place wasn’t too busy. He needed a quiet one.

‘Evening, boss,’ said Rita.

Simon hissed a laugh. ‘How many times do I have to tell you not to call me “boss” just because I own this bar? I’m half your age.’

‘Don’t say that too loud,’ Rita chided playfully. ‘Most patrons think I’m at least a dozen years younger than I actually am.’

‘You’re certainly a fit woman,’ Simon complimented her. She blushed and playfully slapped him with her cloth. Simon chuckled.

Only then did Simon notice the man sitting at the back of the bar in a dim corner at a single table, slowly sipping a drink. Simon tensed.

‘How long has he been here?’ he growled.

‘Been there almost all day,’ replied Rita. ‘Been ordering lots, tips generously. You know him?’

‘Unfortunately, I do.’

Simon strode over to the table where the man five years his senior sat and pulled the chair across from him loudly. Simon sat down and leaned towards the other man.

‘What the hell are you doing here, Johnny?’ he growled harshly.

‘Good to see you too, Simon.’

Simon balled his hands into fists. ‘I’ll ask again, what are you doing in my bar?’

‘Staking,’ Johnny replied, his voice low.

Simon narrowed his eyes and studied Johnny’s face for a few minutes. ‘No phone call, no letter, no email, no nothing for ten years–’

‘And whose fault is that?’ retorted Johnny. ‘I couldn’t find you.’

‘You obviously did at some point, else you wouldn’t be here, or did you just find me now?’ Johnny downcasted his eyes and Simon knew the answer to his question was “no”.

‘Look, I’m not here to cause trouble, I’m here to make sure it doesn’t come to you.’

‘What the hell are you talking about, Johnny? Trouble?’

‘Simon, please, I’m on your side here!’ pleaded Johnny.

‘My side? You chose your side when you stayed with dad,’ Simon spat back.

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