“Hey, Fucker!” yelled Bagger, tackling the youth and rolling around on the floor, knocking over drinks as the two combatants laughed at each other.

“Time to go,” said Jack, grabbing Sy by the arm to help him stagger to his feet.

Sy agreed and they made their way out to Jack’s SUV. Laura got in the back seat, while Sy climbed into the passenger side as Jack started the engine.

“So,” said Jack, while pulling out of the parking space, “I was wondering how Bagger got his nickname. I thought it was from selling baggies of weed.”

“Oh, fuck no,” replied Sy. “He got it for all the chicks he bags. He’s always getting laid.”

“A real smooth talker with the ladies, is he?” asked Laura.

“Not much talkin’ involved,” mumbled Sy. “I know a guy, Cocktail, who keeps us connected with GHB. Ya know what that is?”

Jack nodded.

“There’s a reason they call it the date-rape drug,” slurred Sy. “Bagger’s too fuckin’ ugly to get laid without it.”

The conversation between Lorraine and Bagger and the introduction of Cassandra flashed into Jack’s brain. The realization and the rage he felt instinctively caused him to slam on the brakes. He briefly wondered who he wanted to kill first. Bagger and the other young men standing in line waiting to take their turn with Cassandra, or the slobbering drunk sitting beside him.

“Jay,” said Laura quietly from the back seat, “didn’t you say you had a friend who was in the market for GHB?” She sensed his anger and her question was meant to both caution and remind him that their real objective was to identify Cocktail.

“Why ya stopping?” asked Sy, looking around, completely clueless as to the rage Jack felt.

Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“Why we stoppin’?” Sy asked again.

“A cat ran out in front of us,” replied Jack, as he commenced driving again. “You mentioned a guy by the name of Cocktail. With a name like that, what is he, a bartender?” asked Jack, feigning a chuckle.

“No. Forget about him.”

Connie and Sammy had watched as Jack, Laura, and Sy came out of the house and got into their SUV to drive away. As soon as Jack pulled away, the green sedan also drove off in a hurry.

“Coincidence?” suggested Connie. “They did start their car a couple of minutes before Jack and Laura came out.”

“Shit!” yelled Sammy. “They’re unrolling the rear windows! Hang on,” he added, throwing the gear in reverse and ramming the car behind them.

“What the hell you doing?” yelled Connie.

“They’re smokin’ a joint. Not likely they’re going to let the smoke out of the car without reason. Besides, it’s cold out.” He rammed the car behind them a second time and said, “Damn it, we’ll never catch up in time. Why are you sitting there? Call Jack!”

“Tell him they’re being followed?”

“Being followed? Jesus, Connie!” yelled Sammy.

“I don’t work drugs. What the —”

“It’s a hit!” screamed Sammy. “They’re going to shoot them!”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jack stopped behind a car parked in the centre lane at a red light when his BlackBerry rang.

Laura caught the eye contact Jack made with her in the rear view mirror. Something’s up …

“Hi, Aunt Connie,” she heard Jack say. “Calm down. Take a breath and talk quietly,” he added, pressing the receiver tight to his ear so Sy wouldn’t hear.

“You’re being tailed,” said Connie excitedly. “Three assholes in a four-door green sedan. They were sitting in the car watching the house and smoking a joint. They left as soon as you did and rolled the rear windows down. Sammy thinks they might be getting ready to shoot you.”

Laura saw Jack check the side mirrors before riveting his attention back to the rearview mirror. This time he wasn’t looking at her.

“Your pit bull is missing again?” replied Jack. “You can’t find it? That’s a dangerous animal to have on the loose.” He saw Laura’s head swivel as she looked out the windows.

“What are you talking about? Did you hear me?” asked Connie.

Jack saw the green sedan slowly pulling up alongside the passenger side of his SUV.

Sy drunkenly looked at Jack and said, “Your aunt has a pit bull? Good breed to have, man. She got a grow-op or somethin’?”

“Everyone down!” screamed Jack, ducking down. Through his peripheral vision he saw Laura scrambling to the floor.

“What the fuck ya doin?” roared Sy, when Jack clenched his collar with his fist and jerked him below the dash.

Jack’s verbal response was not necessary as a barrage of bullets sent a shower of broken glass on everyone inside.

Jack cranked the steering wheel hard to the right and stepped on the gas. His car rammed the sedan, temporarily knocking the shooter off balance as the SUV sped forward. The sedan’s squealing tires announced it was in hot pursuit as both vehicles raced down the street and turned a corner.

“Princess,” yelled Jack, tossing his BlackBerry into the back seat. “Talk to Aunt Connie. I’m kind of busy.”

“Busy! You fuckin’ nuts?” screamed Sy.

“Hi, Aunt Connie,” said Laura. “Sorry to hear Fang took off on you again. Where are you looking for him? … Oh, yeah. Remember last time he was about two blocks west of there. You’ll probably hear him bark if you call and listen.”

As Jack wheeled through the traffic, he glanced over to see Sy with a pistol in his hand while winding down what was left of the passenger window.

“Hey, fuckers!” Sy screamed, while drunkenly leaning out the passenger window and trying to aim.

“Don’t!” yelled Jack, grabbing Sy by the belt on the back of his pants and yanking him back inside while swerving into the right lane to block Sy’s target from view.

“What the fuck? Who’s side ya on!” yelled Sy angrily. “Stay on the left side so I can shoot these fuckers!

“I’ve got a better idea,” yelled Jack, not wanting a drunken Sy to let loose with a handgun and endanger the wrong people. “I’m going to brake and ram. If you’re hanging out the window they’re liable to shoot you. Either that or you’ll fall out when I brake hard.”

“Brake and run? What are ya talkin’ about?” screamed Sy, his words barely intelligible from a combination of alcohol and fear.

“Not run. Ram! Keep your head down and trust me. You’ll see shortly.”

Jack veered back to the left lane and drove as if he were intent on racing away. The sedan was more powerful and soon started to edge up along the passenger side once more. Jack slammed on the brakes and the sedan surged past before the driver had time to brake.

It was what Jack was waiting for. He stepped on the gas and rammed the left rear corner of the sedan, sending it spinning clockwise out of control before smashing sideways into a power pole. Steam billowed out from the crumpled hood of the sedan and one wheel was bent over from a broken axel. Seconds later, the occupants were climbing out and running in different directions.

“That’s Weasel!” yelled Sy, pointing to the shooter who had bailed out of the back seat. “I recognize that fucker! Back up so I can finish him!” he said, once more hanging out the window with his pistol.

Jack grabbed him by the belt and hauled him back inside. “Some other time!” Jack yelled. “The cops are here. I see a red light on the dash of some van comin’ up fast behind us. Time to split.”

Moments later, when they were safely away from the scene, Sy looked at Jack and Laura and said, “You two gotta be the coolest two people I’ve ever met.”

“That shit was nothing,” replied Jack, as casually as he could.

“What do you mean, nothing! Fuck man, you saved my life.”

Don’t remind me, thought Jack. He glanced at Sy and said, “You ever hear about the west-end gangs out of Montreal?”