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LET IT BE: FINDING THE HEIR

The bartender, a boy in his middle twenties trembled staring at Richard, “I-I don’t u-understand you, sir,” he said, his lips trembling as he remained pinned on the slab.

Richard squinted, pressing his hand on the bartender’s neck, “now tell me what happened to him,” he said with his voice silky and calm but evoking danger.

“I only did what I had to do… I don’t know what happened to him after that,” the bartender sputtered shutting his eyes deep like he had seen a monster, then coming to the realization of how much he had revealed in a short amount of time.

Richard’s face relaxed, and he loosened his grip on the bartender’s neck, “what do you mean?” he asked, then took his hand away from the bartender, allowing him to get up on his feet.

The bartender began with a deep sigh, “Some guys gave me one hundred and fifty bucks to call him when your friend was about to leave yesterday,” he answered, then gulped a cupful of saliva, trying to avoid Richard’s cold stare. “I-I don’t know
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