"There ain't no way in fucking hell I'm letting you out without a scratch."
In a sense, Jona shouldn’t have been surprised that the snot nosed kid didn’t go down on his knees. He has, most likely, gone through the wringer under much worse circumstances but that did not phase the bartender. If anything, his body itched to connect fist to jaw with any applicable force it could throw at him. Green flickered down at the gun now held by the opposing force. He never liked guns. They were toys given to overgrown children who never knew how to use them correctly, and all these children had short tempers, much like the one that stood before the grisly man.
Staring down hard at the Zaire’s boy, Jona stood his ground. Fingers gripped tight on the cane. Ready at any moment to bring it down on the boys head if the situation called for it. Only a grunt came in reply to the first words Bel spoke. The older man silently agreed with that statement. Everyone had someone to back them up. Never forget it. A barrel of a chest rose softly and lowered quickly, breathing through his nostrils to calm him down. Guns had joined the game of intimidation. It would not be wise to let fury take hold and lash out its vengeance upon the world. Like a boulder that had no chance of being moved, the bearded bartender stood his ground. Never once looking away from the gun pointed at him. It only served to add more kindle to the blaze of spite that raged in those green pools. They bubbled and sparked with the ferocity of bear whose home at had been disturbed.
Papa bear, as the little one so loveling referred to him, did not care to see his Little Lady damaged any further. The boy needed to leave as he has come to learn that none of the big families can ever be in the same place at the same time. Doing so was just beckoning hell to opens its gates, and let loose all its inner demons into the tense fray, yet somehow an angel appeared in turmoil inspired by a hatred seeded some time ago. Corners of a thin mouth dipped down into a frown of something akin to disapprobation. Such a little thing shouldn’t throw herself into the still and silent fight. A fight that seemed to occur in mind and with high emotions. The little thing pulled at him but the boy chose to speak just a little bit more. He remained silent as he delivered his last words and his sister added her two cents. The older man couldn’t imagine all the times she must have stepped in to provide those little words. She could be rich for every time she did he was guessed.
Jonathan wasn’t sure if the Zaire’s kid left because he wanted to, if the angel convinced him with her light touch or his sister's words pushed him away. All he knew was that he was glad he was no longer under his roof. Broad shoulders relaxed now that the source of tension had relieved themselves of his presence. He glared chillingly down at all the Little Lady's patrons. His eyes lingered on the boys who carried the Bates name on their backs. They were trouble makers just like the Zaires kid but since they did not join in on the brewing pot of violence, they were currently lower in his list of people he disliked.
Returning to the back of the bar, Jona squatted in front of his beloved daughter. With a grim face, you'd think that she would be scared. Surprisingly, those noodle thin arms found themselves hanging loosely about his neck. A show of affection that the bartender gladly returned. His hand dwarfed the little ones own hand as he stood up and pushed her towards her mother, who now approached the bar. Her hand reached over to grip his muscled shoulder, thumb moving in rhythmic motions reminiscent of a circle. The other Zaire popped up, blabbing about paying for the costs. She pushed loads of cash and pulled out her checkbook at the ready. At the sight of this, he frowned and Anna took charge.
Almost on cue, the Bates boy, Gunner, saddled up next to her and pulled out his own treasure chest of cash. This only made the bartender they were trying to appease frown even more. "I don't want your fucking money you spoiled brats." His hands, having previously been perched at the edge of the bar, pulled back and he took an old rag and began to wipe down the surface. He was careful to pick at the shot glasses shattered remains, no thanks to Bel's furious grip. Anna frowned as well, not appreciating her husbands harsh words to the two. Turning to face them, with Meg perched on her hip a bit uncomfortably it seemed, a smile flashed across her dark features. Her eyes flickered over to a newcomer but left it alone. She was a pretty thing but Anna did wasn't in the mood to socialize with anyone, unless it was a necessity.
"What my husband means to say is that now that . . . Well he means exactly as he says. Now isn't a good time to try and rebuild damaged bridges so I suggest coming back in the morning if you really mean on paying for the damage your brother caused Senna." Annalise's voice was soft like silk yet had a tint of huskiness in it. Her brown eyes shifted over to Gunner, not once losing that welcoming sparkle. "The same goes for you although since neither you nor your brothers damaged anything you're exempt from having to pay anything." The older women very much meant what she said, leaving no room for arguments.
Jona glanced at them under his furrowed brow. Wondering if they were honest in their intentions. Still wiping down the bar, Jona overheard Simon's comment and he snorted in protest. "Like hell I want this to be a regular thing." His tone still held a bit of an edge to it but as time went on, it faded. The same occurred with the rest of the restaurants current inhabitants. With the tension gone, it began to gradually buzz with activity. Employees began to clean up the mess Bel left for them, others subtlety urged the patrons to leave. It would seem all the commotion was bringing about an ache to the front of Jona's head. His grimace grew worse until finally he spoke up and told everyone to leave.
The loss of his cool easily prompted the regulars to exit, especially those who were not accustomed to his gruff ways. Little by little they began to trickle out of the Little Lady and the grimace on the bartenders face lessened. He welcomed the quiet atmosphere and slowly began to close shop, making sure any and all stragglers were kicked out. The majority of the employees were sent home as well, save for a couple. Eventually they too left and it was just the Moore family and whoever else that refused to leave.