Chapter 70 Ghosts In The Back Room

• The bar hums thick with cheap neon and old lies — Vince’s place half-packed with dock boys and syndicate muscle who all think the shots flowing free are theirs to savor instead of the snare Bishop’s already locked tight around their necks.
• Decker’s propped at the far end — boot braced to the rail, shoulder to Knox’s while they drain the bottle Vince keeps stashed for men he wants to impress but can’t afford to lose.
• The hum of glass on old wood, the clatter of half-sloshed laughter, the thick roll of quiet threat when Knox tilts his head and lets Vince’s boys think he’s too drunk to swing if they look at Ellerei for a second too long.