The smoky scent of the bar seemed so familiar yet so dissociating. It had been far to long since the day that Leon had last had the been able to reach such a state of relaxation that he could be surrounded by the constant flow of spirits as a dark woman stood upon a stage, her smooth voice sweeping across them all as she sang. About what? He was unsure, he could not be bothered to pay attention to the words despite how sweet the voice that laced through them was.
His eyes skimmed over the woman that had chosen to sidle up close to him. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief as she sipped on her whiskey. Perhaps there was no mischief within her dark pools, but the way her foot trailed across his leg beneath the table, he could not help but feel such a way. However, he knew her hand likely trailed over Ramone’s thigh as she did it and by the way his eyes grazed over her face and neck, Ramone was enjoying the attention more than he was.
“Leon.” Ramone drew out his name as Leon turned and took a drag from his cigarette. “You seem so bothered.” Leon’s eyes flicked from his drink when he felt a heavy hand upon his shoulder, shaking him from whatever was weighing upon his mind.
“How could I not be bothered with such a beautiful woman pressed against me?” He said smoothly, smirking around his cigarette as he raised a brow at the woman pressed against his side. Her face split into a smile as she giggled daintily into her hand and leaned into him more. Ramone, however, let out a scoff as he let his hand drop from his friend’s shoulder and leaned back.
“And here I thought you had come here to be with me.”
“Of course I came to be with you, you’re face is just as pretty, wouldn’t you say so?” He had forgotten the woman’s name and he could not help but think she did not know those that she was sitting among despite the way her eyes shone as she was tucked between them both. Her hand came up from Ramone’s lap then and gently grazed over his jaw before cupping his cheek as she smiled. This time her lips split to show her teeth, and suddenly Leon understood why she seemed so keen on keeping it shut before.
“I would say it’s prettier.” her lashes batter heavily against her cheekbones as he felt her body shift so she was pressed more heavily against Ramone. And it seemed that Ramone could not be bothered by her teeth, as his arm simply came to slip about her waist and pull her even tighter against him.
“Mm, you lie, but I can’t deny a compliment from such a woman.” He purred as he tapped his finger beneath her chin. Leon shifted away then, knowing better than to interrupt a man that was attempting to warm his sheets that night. He let out a soft groan as he felt his bruised ribs protest against the movement, but he continued on pushing himself away from their little table.
“Leaving us so soon, then?” She teased as his warmth left her. Perhaps she was looking to have two men that night. Unfortunately for her, he could not find it within himself to keep with her. Even when all he wished to do with the night was forget all that he had seen the week before. To let the blood fully wash off of him. To shove the memories from his mind. And she just didn’t seem to be nearly close to what he was looking for that night.
“Don’t look so disappointed, you have that pretty thing over there.”He took another drag of his cigarette before turning and going to the bar, the chatter of the bar once again washing over him as he took a heavy seat on the stool. He waved to the man that was behind the bar and tapped on the counter.
“Whiskey.” He demanded as he leaned back and gently ran a hand over his ribs for only a moment before letting it drop. It had been too long since the last time he had been within the little building. Since he had let his muscles relax against the back of a chair and felt the cushion beneath him. It had been awhile since his face was not so bruised that he could not bear to show himself publicly, lest others think him to be a simple ruffian despite the immaculate way he dressed.
The Monzanios had always had a way of keeping him from a life of relaxation. Even when it had been announced by his father that Jasmine was allowed to truly step out on to the streets and let her talents shine, he could not feel at ease. In face, he felt the worry only strengthen within him to see his sister slip out into the world. He could not help but think that the pain that ailed their father was causing his mind to be impaired as well. Yet it was not like something as simple as death would keep Rami Alfayeed from keeping the strings that he had carefully attached to the streets from his ever moving fingers.
His drink was sat down in front of him with a gentle clink. His eyes drifted up from the spot upon the counter to see the barman take a step away as he went on to look to the other patrons that were demanded a drink. He let out a breath through his nose, despite it all, he had still managed to let the troubles get to him. His father was likely thinking of the same things laid up in his bed. He tilted his head back and took the liquid down in one strong gulp before placing it back on the counter and calling for another drink.
If he was not going to clear his mind tonight, then he certainly would not be sober. Not if he could help it.
Jasmine
The blood that ran down into her eyes momentarily blinded Jasmine as she pressed her back against the cold bricks of the alley. The harsh breaths that escaped her were quickly silenced by a palm pressed against her mouth. She could taste the salty sweat that had built up on it throughout the night, but could not afford to peel it from her cheeks. The sound of gunshots still rang in her ears, yet her heart seemed to beat louder than anything else ever could, so loud she feared they would hear it, even over the sound of the rain harshly pelting the ground.
As she shifted she bit back a hiss as he shoulder throbbed in response. Despite the icy pelts that hit her, the warmth of her shoulder seemed to radiate and fight against it with every fiber of its being. The lack of air was beginning to make her head spin and the dinner that she had been enjoying seemed to wish to crawl back up.
She moved the hand from her mouth and gently pushed locks of soaked hair from her eye, pushing herself forward to peek around the corner, squinting in an attempt to make out darkened figures among the rain. The theatre she had been at was no longer visible, lost in all the twists and turns she had taken that she felt seated deep within the muscles of her calves.
“I ain’t seeing nothin’” The voice managed to cut through every other sound that she had been berating her. She felt her body stiffen as she twisted about to see where the sound was coming from.
“Well it ain’t like she could have gone far.” She let her hand brush over the knife beneath her skirt. It seemed to have gone silent once more, only the sound of the rain and her heart once again overpowering all else. She pressed her lips together and reached down, hiking up her skirt so she could take the knife that was attached to her thigh from its holster.
She narrowed her gaze once more as she pressed her back far into the wall, ignoring the pain that laced throughout her body and slick feeling of the knife in her hand becoming the only thing that she could know. Her fingers curled around it tightly, though she could faintly feel the tremble within her fingers. He was going to step around the corner, she could practically feel him as he walked along the wall, his fingers slicking along on the wet walls as he continued to move, eyes searching but he knew where she was. Where else could she be to disappear from sight so quickly?
Her eyes flicked to the boxes that could be used to get over the fence in the back of the alley. She was unsure where it led, she only knew she was already in pain and that if she attempted to take it now, she would simply feel the sharp pain of the bullet lodged in her spine. It caused her back to arch off of the wall at the simple thought of it and her heart to tremble beneath her breasts. Her tongue poked out to lightly lap at the moisture that had built about her lips and steel herself for what was to come.
“Come on, come on little one.” She pressed her lips together as she felt them begin to tremble.
Strike them down. As fast as you can.
Because they’ll kill me?
Because they may do something worse. They’re animals. There’s no limit to the depravity of their minds.
His shoe was visible then, only the tip of his polished black dress shoe, glistening with rain water. Her muscles tensed as it felt the world itself had stilled around her. He stepped forward once more, turning about the corner. She was on him before he could lift his gun, shoving the knife into his shoulder, he yelped as she ground her knee into his crotch and shoving him down before reaching for his gun, but she felt his hand tangle in her hair and take her down far before she managed to clear herself of him. Her hand came back and slammed into his nose, feeling it break beneath her hand. And then the sound of boots splashing in the puddles and slamming against the slick pavement.
Shit.
There were more than she had thought. More than there had been, she knew, she could not have been too far off. She was never far off about things such as this. Her eyes flicked back to the fence as she felt a lump come into her throat before she took off towards it, quickly attempting to leap towards the top and cling to the top, feeling her shoulder burn and the sticky wet clothes tighten as she attempted to pull herself up.She had barely pulled herself up enough to press the tip of her shoe to the first box when she felt a burn skimming across her leg. She let out a groan and fell back before she felt the pile beginning to crumble under the little pressure she put on them.
She groaned as her ankle buckled as she hit the ground hard. Jasmine fought the urge to curse as she attempted to scramble back up before she felt arms encircle her from behind and yank her back. A yelp escaped Jasmine’s lips as she threw her elbows back to strike him in the ribs and brought her heel down on to his toe.
“Shit! Get her feet will ya?” Jasmine kicked her legs wildly at that, attempting to keep the other man away before she felt the cold blade against her throat. Her breathing stopped then, her legs roughly grabbed as she felt the man pull her tighter to him and felt his chest vibrate with a deep chuckle against her back.
“Well how about that, then?” He murmured, she could feel his breath on her brow. The knife trailed across her skin just lightly enough to not draw blood, but she knew if she moved even slightly, it would pierce her skin. And for the first time in awhile, she feared for her own life rather than one of another.
It always caused conflict, leaving the house. There was always another excuse, or it was simply never a good time. "Not now, Marilyn," Don Monzanio would scold, his dark eyes void of any affection, both narrow and sharp. It didn't matter how many times she asked, though she certainly never pleaded. Her father had taught her better than that. He definitely wouldn't submit then.
This time, she'd never bother to asked before she'd gotten dressed. If he didn't say no, then it wouldn't be a problem. Only, it had been, because Joslyn had blocked the door way with her small frame, both arms extending to either side and her head cocked slightly leftwards. "Where do you think you're going?" The younger sibling raised a thin eyebrow, "father said-"
"Father didn't say anything, actually," Jynx had retorted, her arms strapped across eachother, slightly beneath her chest. It had been precisely 39 days, since she'd returned from England, and she'd been counting every single one. Home no longer felt as warm as it once had. It felt like a prison cell, though she had scarcely done anything to deserve such treated treatment - except be born a Monzanio, of course.
It was whispered across the country that Monzanios were born evil. Some people even went as far to say that Don Monzanio sold the souls of his family to the devil, in exchange for wealth and fortune. Jynx wouldn't argue against that. Not that she was superstitious but, she certainly didn't feel like her life was her own. She could definitely buy into the whole devil thing.
Then again, she'd gotten out, hadn't she? Although, it had took quite a lot of money to bribe her horrid little sister into closing her big mouth. The smug little smirk upon her face still haunted Jynx now as she sat at the bar, awaiting her companion to return from the powder room. Desperate to distract her wandering mind, the young woman stirred her drink subconsciously with the little black straw, and allowed her viridescent eyes to scan the faces around her.
In her immediate proximity, there was no one who quite piqued her attention. At the edge of the bar were two very older gentlemen, whose smoke was so think that it was almost blinding and seemed to take a form of its own. Between them were wads of cash, some golden jewellery, and craftily placed card. From the look on the darker man's face, the bundle wasn't about to be his gain any time soon.
Stiffling a yawn, she raised her drink to her lips and took the tiniest of sips. It was impolite to drink without your company, and her father had raised her better than that. Yet, Emile was taking so long... she scarcely believed that she was coming back. Perhaps that was it for the night then. Had her companion been anyone else but the Vixen, one may have been anxious for her safety.
She didn't. Emile was more... loosely moraled, that was a polite word for it. The two differed greatly in that area. For certain, such an acquaintance was frowned upon by her father, but that only made Jynx like her more. Besides, they'd been friends since childhood. Emile's mother had been her nursery maid, and raised the two like sisters.
A little hurt that the young woman hadn't had the curtesy to at least excuse herself, her petite fingers wrapped around the glass and raised it to her lips once more. Without a care for the straw, she downed the remnants, perhaps half a glass or so, in one go. God, life was so boring alone. Once more, her eyes returned to the other side of her. This was a little more interesting.
The first thing she noticed was a dark looking fellow. Although, one could hardly miss him; he was so close to a woman, that they appeared to almost be bedding upon the bar counter. Her nose scrunched a little as she suppressed the urge to vomit. Some people had no decency. Why, even Emile had always had more class that that, and she'd been in some right states.
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes skywards, she continued to allow them to trail along the bar. The corners of her soft rouge lips tugged into a slight bemused smile, as her eyes settled upon a dark, and rather handsome, stranger. It appeared that he had been acquainted with the gentleman that was quite literally wrapped up in the whore of the bar. For, having glanced at the two with raised eyebrows, he downed his fresh glass in one go.
"Easy there, tiger," Jinx couldn't help but laugh musically, even revealing her pearly whites just momentarily. "You don't wanna need to be carried home," her voice was lightly teasing, as she approached the area bar, sliding in beside him. "I mean, I'm all for being a strong and independent woman, but I've never tried carrying a man before, and... well... it looks like your pal is rather preoccupied".
She didn't dare cast her eyes that way once more, in fear of losing what innocence she had left. No, Marilyn Monzanio had experienced enough trauma to last her a life time. Instead, she placed her glass on the counter, requesting politely that the barman make "the usual" and flashing him a cheeky wink when he'd done so. "You spoil me, Fransisco, truly". Her voice was dramatic, an invasion life and charisma nearby.
To her new companion, she held out her hand as a gentleman would do. "The names Jynx, by the way".
***
Bax Bronxton
As his gun raised, his hands were unnervingly steady. He knew that the silencer on the revolver would buy him enough time to take out all three of them. They wouldn't even know what had hit them. Did he feel sorry for what he was about to do? No, not really. These men weren't responsible for what had happened to his sister. He knew that. This was no drive for justice.
No, this was a scheme that had been plotted for a very long time, and one that had played right into his hands. He had to admit, when Don Monzanio had begun the scheme, Bax hadn't really had much faith in it. All the same, he'd trusted the old man's judgement. It took a criminal to know a criminal, and definitely to take a criminal Empire down.
Bax had originally joined the police academy when he came of age, and they'd promised that there was a "bright future" ahead of him. He was young, somewhat intelligent - well, he weren't stupid, and he had all the right skills. By that, he knew everything he had to do or say. Things just came to him. He could read people and he knew what they wanted.
Even a moron would know what Jasmine Alfayeed wanted right now, and that was saving. These henchmen had been instructed by Don Monzanio to "terminate her" and, if Bax didn't act soon, it appeared as if they were ready to do so. Only, they'd made no move to just yet. Instead, they taunted her, bemused at her misery. They weren't planning on just killing her.
It was clear in sexual glint of his eyes. There was a hunger within the leader, one that Bronxton was not alien to. He'd taken out many bastards like that, rapists, the scum of the lot. It didn't surprise him that the Monzanio leader had chosen this lot then, not really. Gangs had no morals. What did he care for other men's daughters? Just as no one had cared for his baby sister.
Bang. The asshole went first. The bullet pierced his head right between his eyes. His body flopped upon the woman pathetically. One down, two to go. The next one was rather easy to get, as he bent over to check if his friend was okay, his laughter ceasing, it only took a careless shot to send him hurtling down. It was the survivor that was the hard one.
He lunged at the intruder with an unexpected speed. The first bullet missed. His heart pounded. His hand began to shake. Fuck. Concentrate, Bronxton. Once more, he raised the gun. Miss, but not quite, it hit the man in the shoulder. It was just enough to buy some time. As the man paused with pain, he kicked him in the knees, throwing him to the floor.
"Not nice, is it, asshole?" He spat, with a blow to his face. The first one was aimed at the jaw. The next was directed at the nose, which crunched sickeningly. It was always when things got handy that he began to lose control. Images of his sister, or what had been left of her, haunted his mind. He ought to give him a taste of his own medicine, only the breathing of the girl upon the floor brought him back to earth. Instead, he merely raised his gun and shot him in the head. The man stopped moving, attempting to wriggle up. His body stiffened.
"Are you okay?" His voice softened as he allowed his eyes to scan her visage.
For once, he couldn't read her expression. Was she scared? If so, she showed no outward sign. Regardless of how she felt, he placed his gun back into the holster strapped around his ankle, and approached her. His hands were held up, to portray that he had no malice or bad intent, before he offered one out to her.
She was a true beauty. Her dark hair and tanned skin likely made her a valuable asset for her father. What did men like Alfayeed use their daughters for? To seduce other men, he supposed. Jasmine Alfayeed would've definitely enticed him, had they been in any other environment.
Except, they weren't. Right now, all he cared for was making sure they got out alive and keeping his act going.
To be jarred from his detached state was both a welcome gift and something he cursed. The whiskey was how he escaped, a few good drinks and suddenly his head was no longer where the pain of the past could touch him. His body was healed, or at least he didn't care if it wasn't. So to be shoved out of that peaceful reality, he felt the need to dig his nails down into it and refuse to leave the warmth of it. Yet when he turned to see who let out such a melodious laugh, he could not help but fell lucky that it was she that had pulled him from that stupor.
His brow raised at her comment as his eyes skimmed over her for only a moment. He acted as a gentleman for now and kept his eyes on her face rather than dipping lower, though he felt tempted within to allow his gaze to dip lower. Instead his lips simply turned into a smirk and he took another drag of his cigarette and put his own hand out, taking her smaller one into his and giving it a firm shake.
"Oh, I take that as a challenge." He said as he waved to the man once more and pushed his empty cup towards him. Though he with company, it was easier to only nurse his drink rather hang guzzle it. And to not only have the bar whore and his brother to look at, it made there to be less for him to need to push away from his mind. "I'm Leon, pleasure to make the aquatance of such a woman."
"Whiskey." He said with a small wave as he turned his full attention to this girl. He wouldn't be shocked if he wasn't the first man that was enticed by her. From then way her golden hair brushed over her pale cheeks, and the rouge that made her lips look so tantalizing, she was a sight that none could miss. And he counted himself lucky that her attention was chosen to be on him rather than any other.
"You're right, though." He went on as he inclined his head towards Ramone. "I could be shot and bleeding out on this counter and that bloke wouldn't be able to pull himself away from her." At the very least, the man was finding himself a good time even after his mind was ravaged by the great war. Even if he seemed to plan on leaving his friend alone with his whiskey and none else.
He reached and took the whiskey between his fingers once again, plucking his cigarette from have mouth so that he could take a sip from his drink. "Now you, though," He said as he placed the cigarette back between his lips. "I don't see a pretty woman like you being here alone. Who is it that you are denying your presence to?"
He could smell the sweet scent of her perfume from here. She was a woman of class, he could see it from just the way she sat, let alone the way she looked. The type of refined look that seemed almost too good for a simple bar that was filled to the brim with smoke and had whores milling about. But even then, she seemed unperturbed. Quite the independent woman indeed, it seemed.
Jasmine
It was almost too sudden. To go from the feeling of them pressing her close and pinning her down, restricting her movement no matter how hard she thrashed. A fear had pierced her heart that she had never thought would come.
You shall be the one that strikes fear.
However she held the knife to no one's throat. But then again, it seemed none held a knife to her own anymore. Hands were no longer gripping her but rather she was shoving his limp body from off of her, looking to find her way to standing once more, confused as to what had changed as she shoved her hair from her eyes once more and then was met by a gentle voice.
Her eyes snapped up to him, her body seizing and curling in on itself as her eyes lowered. Not out of fear that he would hurt her. But simpld because he was a stranger and she was sure she looked to be a mess with the way her hair stuck to her cheeks and the look of distress that had likely crossed her features.
But he had saved her. There was no doubt about that. They would have killed her. They would have-.
She swallowed thickly before her eyes flicked up to him once more and she reached to take his hand. Her heart beat loudly within her breasts and she felt a faint shiver run through her as the rain continued to soak through her clothing and cling to her skin.
"Thank you..." She said softly as she pulled herself up. But the sight of the bodies reminded her of what was at stake. At what was likely on the horizon for them. So she gripped his hand tighter and then tugged him along to get them out of the alleyway, away from the bodies. She knew how it worked. The moment she was not dragged out from that alleyway and yanked to be put on display for either the Monzanios or her own father, there would be tons of weapons on them. Too many for even him to handle.
She pressed herself against the wall once more and let out a deep breath as she curled her fingers against the wall. "We have to get out." She said as she shoved her hair from her eyes once more. "More will come. We'll have to be quick."
She was unsure who this man was or ever why he was here. Perhaps an innocent man tied up in the battles of the gang. Perhaps he was a private enemy of the men that had attempted to take her. Either way, she could not simply leave him behind. No good Alfayeed would simply let a man that had showed them such disgrace to leave them with the other men to die.
It wasn't as if she'd never been complimented before. Yet, her heart thud in her breasts at an unfamiliar pace. This was probably why father never let her go out. Her loyalties were just so easy to attend to. He claimed it was because she was "a woman". In her eyes, it went much deeper than that. Could you blame anyone for craving human affection when they had been deprived of it their whole life?
Her soft eyes trailed along his figure to his visage. He was a gentleman, possibly from a class very similar to her own, which meant that Jynx probably ought to behave a lot more conserved than she felt like. She didn't. Instead, her eyes remained on his own, whilst her mind still processed his handsome, dark appeareance and expensive, designer suit. Boy, Emile would have a right laugh if she came back and saw her friend with another, always the first to snub men at bars and in public. It wasn't often that one caught her eye. Only this one treated her like a man ought to. She noted instantly how he didn't raise her hand to his mouth, but shook it as if she was his equal.
"Avoiding?" She repeated quietly, allowing herself a moment to think. "No, no, not at all. It appears that I have been abandoned too". Removing the silk gloves from her dainty hands, she folded them nicely and placed them upon a dry part of the counter. "I'm used to it, by now. Besides, I see no reason why a pretty woman should not be entitled to the rights of a attractive young man like yourself".
Her head tilted to the side, challenging him to air his likely conservative views. As she did so, her hand reached for her glass, bringing it to her vixen red lips and downing the contents once more. It was quite an achievement really. She held herself finely for a woman who had downed at least 4 bourbons. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Leon," her speech was only slightly slurred, as she leant in towards his ear. Her hot breath very likely trailed along his neck. "Don't underestimate what a woman like me is capable of. I'm not so innocent".
Playful, her fingers reached between his lips, sliding his cigarette from his mouth and into hers. Having took a long drag, she parted her lips ever so slightly so that the smoke flooded from between. Her periwinkle eyes looked up through thick lashes at him, as she returned the cigarette once more to his lips. There'd been a time that she'd killed a man in a similar fashion. Poison draped across her lips had been transferred onto his cigarette and his own when he had interlocked them with hers. Poor Alfayeed bastard.
Men needed to learn that what was between a woman's legs did not enweaken her, but the quite contrary. As long as a pretty face was attached, it gave you unmatched colossal power. "I only tell you, because I like you," she teased, the corner of her lips pult into a playful smirk.
Bax
More were probably not going to come, but he didn't air that thought. He wasn't an idiot. The Alfayeed woman needed to trust him. Who would trust a man that didn't fear their enemies? So, he nodded abundantly, allowing her fingers to intertwine with his own. This was proving surprisingly easy. The little bird was not just leading the snake into her mother's den by accident. No, she was flying him there.
The image of her as she had pressed herself against the wall and let out a deep breath as she curled her fingers against the wall, was still in his mind. There was something rather helpless in the image. The plan had only just began and already he felt guilty. His conscience felt stained by the fact that she couldve faced a fate just like his sister's. Men like Monzanio and Alfayeed clearly had little regard for such a thing, but he did. Or, he had.
Now, he felt as low as the scum that he hunted."I know a safe way out," he whispered to her, as if someone could actually be near. Of course he knew a safe way out, everywhere was safe. There would be no other men waiting for her body to be dangled like a prize for her father and Monzanio to see. Why on earth would Don Monzanio commit to such a personal declaration of war?
Although countless men had lost their lives in the war, it appeared as if the two men themselves still had values. Neither had hunted the other's family just yet. They were not quite yet reduced to savages. "This way," he urged, pulling her through the door he entered. The corridor was spindily and decaying. One would assume that no one had been here for centuries, and yet here they where.
Why was she here? How had they managed to corner her, to isolate her, so professionally? All of these questions he would as her once she deemed it 'safe'. No doubt, Jasmine Alfayeed would have plenty of them in return to him. All of which, they'd prepared answers for. If she were to ask, he was a man with a vendetta against the Monzanios. He'd tell her the truth, because there was no story so convincing. The emotions would be the same, and the sadness heavy in his eyes.
He'd tell her what a criminal had done to little Pearl a few years back, only he'd blame the wrong family. It'd send the beaut in front of him running right into her arms, Just where they needed her. It felt a little disgusting, to use such a story to his advantage, but he knew the benefits outweighed the costs. Bax Bronxton was going to purge the streets of all the scum that killed innocents day by day, at any cost.
She was more than a simple woman that knew herself to catch the attention of men with a simple sultry gaze. Just how she boldly took the cigarette from his lips told him that. A move that many would be too timid to do, even after claiming themselves to be outgoing and bold. His eyes skimmed across her face, watching the smoke that escape her lips as he parted his own so he could let them wrap about the cigarette once more. He let a breathy laugh escape his lips as he gently shook his head.
"I certainly underestimate any woman." His mind wandered to his sisters. All of them always vastly underestimated by the stupid men that assumed themselves to be in control simply because a woman could never overpower them. A woman could never outsmart them. And in their arrogance they met their own doom. It was Dahlia that had set that damned Monzanio up for failure, her dark eyes taking the man in and her simple touch had marked his doom. So to say that a woman could find him unaware of her power, he would be a fool to fall into that trap.
But she was making a new trap for him, with the way her warm breath trailed across her neck and he could feel every word against his ear. He turned towards her, letting their breaths mingle as he tilted his head, unabashed by the intimate closeness and swallowing the urge to ask her for a romp behind the pub. If only because even while feeling the effects of alcohol he knew she was of far too much class for that. And he knew a simple romp like that would only make the emptiness within him gape like a trench in the war.
"My sisters can certainly attest to me being aware." he said with a chuckle as he took another drag of his cigarette. "I would be dead if I didn't know that, I'll tell you that much." He was quite lucky it was Jasmine that had been trained to be the one that rivaled him in battle, because Dahlia was far too liberal with who she decided to point her knives at. "But they would disagree with you and say that there is no woman that feels the want to be around me. They themselves feel entitled to be away from me, I dare say they would prefer to be in a different city."
It was not just him, though, he knew. Dahlia had left for marriage years before and only returned when the family called upon her for special events and never any other time. At the very least she was terrorizing her husband rather than Leon himself for simply impeding on her space and time.
He glanced to the man behind the bar and waved a hand at her glass to get it refilled before turning back to her. "Now, you were going on about me needing to be carried home but you're seeming to push it." He brought his fingers up to his mouth and plucking the cigarette from his mouth before placing the cigarette back between her lips.
"Now I would be more than happy to do that, but I am starting to doubt you'll remember where that home is." Then he felt his lips pull up into a smirk. "But I would still carry you because I like you."
Jasmine
The trembling heart within her breasts quickened further as she nervously turned her eyes back behind her before following him through the corridor. The decaying hall seemed to be far from a safe haven, and even as she felt her hand against his, she could not help but think of the dark world that she was being led into. It was enough that once they had gotten far enough she simple stopped her motion, refusing to move any further as they found the open air once more.
She pulled her hand away and pulled her eyes from him, gently brushing her hair from her face and tucking the dark locks behind the curve of her ear. Her hand dipped down to her thigh once more, feeling the empty holster for her knife and let out a gentle breath as she glance about them once more, ensuring that they were alone.
She pressed her fingers against her chest, forcing her pulse to slow and for her breathing to regulate once more as she slowly turned her dark gaze back to the man that was now sharing her space. Her lips parted for a moment, words that had not yet come to her mind were attempting to escape.
"Who are you?" she finally asked, hands coming to press against her abdomen. "Why did you-?" perhaps that was too many questions all at once. It would have been too many for her as she felt another wall touch her back and she leaned on it gratefully, her shoulders still shaking form the adrenaline that pumped through her veins and her eyes fell closed as she let her fingers curl into the wall behind her.
Her father would have his hands locked upon her throat for behaving in such a way. For acting so weak in the face of danger that she needed someone else to come to her rescue rather than being the force of nature that she had been trained to become. Leon would likely be disappointed too, but more worried than he needed to be if he found out. Yet she could not simply be upset with the man for saving her. But that did not mean that she hadto enjoy it.
"You didn't need to get involved..." she thought to add quietly. He didn't need to, certainly. She could have faced her fate. Gotten her karma for being born as an Alfayeed. For simply killing a man because her father demanded her to do so. But that did not matter. Because now she was here speaking to this stranger. She had yet another day to live.
Her painted lips parted obediently, allowing him to place his cigarette between. An overwhelming wave of lust warmed the inside of her chest, as he closed the distance between them a little further. It turned out that Monzanio's little seductress had found her match in the field of enticement. Closing her eyes momentarily, the young woman took another drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke gently over her bottom lip, downwards.
Two could play at that game. As Jynx leaned forward, to whisper to him once more, she allowed her lips to momentarily make contact with his jaw. "My father always told me that home is where the heart is," her voice was low and husky, followed by a small mischievous laugh. Her virdian gems sparkled at him, through the dark and heavy lashes, with mischievous intent. As she pulled away, she ensured that her leg brushed past his own, just long enough to be teasing.
Leaning back into her stool, the glass was raised to her lips once again. "Why ever would a girl reject a free ride home?" She drank steadily, her words a little freer now, then added, "especially when it's in the arms of a handsome stranger". The girl had morals, and in reality was unlikely to drink herself to such a state. It was a dangerous world, and a Monzanio woman, in particular, couldn't afford the privilege of drinking themselves into oblivion.
Would Jynx object to going home with him? Undeniably, she wanted him. Even though he was as expertly as herself, something whispered to her that she could have him if she wanted too. It was neither the effort nor the chase that put her off. Both of them she thoroughly enjoyed, nor was she a stranger to the arms of men. Entincing them was a sport that her talents particularly excelled in. It was the price that her class to pay that put her off. A woman had a reputation to upkeep, especially one of her status.
Nobody knows who you are, Jynx. No one even knows you here. Father even thinks you're at Emile's house. The devil upon her shoulder was almost as convincing as the man sat before her. Inwardly torn, she shook it away and bit softly on her lower lip to suppress the urge of inviting him to leave. "Tell me about yourself, Leon," she commanded, attempting to distract her mind. "What does a man like you do when he isn't in a place like this?
***
Bax
"You're very welcome," Bax feigned anger, in response to her lack of gratitude. He didn't have to get involved? Surely she had not forgot the dangerous stakes already. Just because they were out in the open air, which her lungs where inhaling for another day, did not undo what he had just done. Truth be told, it wasn't so hard to summon the act of being angry. After all, them men had no awareness that he was working for Monzanio. The third one had actually came close to killing him.
Regardless, Bax let out a huff of breath. Strapping his arms to his chest, he answered her questions rather abruptly. "The names Bax Bronxton," there was no need to hide his name. Mob families like the Alfayeeds kept no track of all the innocents that were affected by their torments. "I'm kinda a free lance assassin. I take jobs here and there when it suits me, mostly against the Monzanios"
He paused, licking his lips, to give her time to process what he had said. "I've worked with your father's men before, never for anything of import". Monzanio had reassured him that there'd be no way Alfayeed knew every man who'd taken his dirty cash in exchange for criminal deeds. "I joined the Alfayeed side in the gang war after a Monzanio henchman killed my little sister. Well, he did more than just kill her".
He didn't need to say much else. Hell, he didn't need to fake any more emotions. They all came to him now as real as the path before them. Like a flood, they drowned his heart and mind with sorrow and misery. Bax had to even push through the urge to cry, his eyes stinging ever so slightly. "I was the one that found her," he admitted, although he didn't know why. There was no need for him to be so liberal with the woman before her. "The image is what keeps me going, if I ever want to stop. It's why- it's why I acted the way I did just there, despite spite of how pretty and valuable your little face is".
He could practically feel the need beating within his chest as her breath cascaded across his skin and her eyes shimmered looking upon him, looking like jewels more than ever in the gentle light of the bar. He had placed the cigarette back against his lips when he had seen the smoke the smoke escape from her mouth and cascade over her chin. He lightly lapped at his upper lip as his eyes traced out every crevice and dip of her smooth alabaster skin and then he simply swallowed and leaned his elbow against the counter.
A true seductress if he had ever seen one. Her lingering touches were leaving him with heavier breaths, and the way her breath. He had thought himself to be a man of delicacy and deliberate speed, yet she was challenging him with her touches and her simple breath caused his head to begin to spin in ways it had not for too long. He took another drag of his cigarette, letting it stream out from the corner of his mouth before he took it out to tap the ashes out over a tray.
"Why, I never thought a woman would want to deny a ride home, though i doubted if you wished for a stranger to know where you sleep. Though, if home is truly where the heart is..." He trailed off and felt the smirk touch his lips again as he let a knuckle run lightly over the pale curve of her hand. A movement he made look nonchallant, like a simple accident that happened to let him feel her smooth skin beneath his touch. He gently shrugged his shoulders.
"Type of man I am? Well... I don't want to taint your innocence by telling you." He cocked a teasing brow as he let out a gentle chuckle. "I just work for a family business. Nothing special, I would say." That was certainly a lie. Most would agree there was a specialty to the jobs he worked, but be did not know the woman quite well enough to spill off his everything simply because she wished to grip him in such a way.
"Now if you want to know about outside of work, I happen to be quite a good fighter." The cockpit was practically his second home. Despite his already violent tendencies he still needed a place to let loose all of his frustrations. "But I don't think it fair to know so much about me and I know nothing about you. So I think an exchange is called for."
Jasmine
His anger caused her to pull away slightly, tightening her hold of her own body as she attempted to press herself further into the wall. It wasn't her intentions to cause ill-will. Not after all of that. But a strange man coming, coming to save her from harm when he certainly didn't have to. When he could have just as easily ignored it, as so many others had ignoed the crimes of her own father and continued on in their unaltered path. She could not help but wonder why a man would throw his life on the line like that. However his true reasoning made her swallow thickly and turn her gaze away.
She carefully tugged on the edges of her hair, mouth pulled to one side in uncertain thought as she leaned from one foot to the other. Because while she was well-mannered, it was hard to know what to do when a stranger, and at that, a savior of a stranger relays such information. Her eyes darted up once more as she took in a gentle breath and then nodded her head.
"... I'm sorry." She said quietly. She then cleared her throat and tucked hair behind her ear. "You already know who I am, I suppose." It was still difficult to pull everything together, to think that things had gone south so quickly. She had just wished to watch a show in the cinema yet now here she was, pressed against a wet wall with a strange man who had saved her life. It nearly seemed comedic, something she could call borderline insane to think it would come to this, but she could not afford to doubt herself now.
"And what happened to your sister... I'm... I'm sorry they did that to her... And that they made you go through that." And she sincerely was, for she didn't think anyone, no matter how young or old, needed to know what it felt like to lose like that. He didn't even look too old, so how old his sister had to be when it happened. It made her feel all the sicker inside just thinking about it. And to think the same thing was close to happening to her-.
She abruptly turned and pressed her forehead against the wall, pressing a hand to her stomach as she collected her bearings. She sucked in a deep breath of air before standing straight once more. They had to keep on going and she was not ending the night by being sick on the wall.
Her eyelids fluttered shut as he allowed a knuckle to trail ever so slightly over her dainty hand. A silent, sharp intake of breath followed, filling her lungs, which she held until she could no longer. Her mind worked, desperately, to try and to restore some kind of will power. Piece by piece she could feel herself succumbing to the alcohol that throbbed through her veins, to the charms that he cast upon her just as much as she did him, to both.
Jynx hated him. Her chest burned. No longer did she feel like an equal in this battle for power, but very much submissive. Her mind battled her heart, sense over passion, over lost, but she could not fight herself and fight him at the same time. It was like trying to strengthen a ship on one side, whilst drilling holes into the other.
In her quest to win the battle of the sexes, the young woman sat back in her chair. Her back was arched ever so slightly, so that her chest was bore high, and her small waistline was ever so emphasised. Her soft blonde head was tilted tentatively, ensuring him that she was listening to all that he had to say. "A fighter, then,"her tongue ran over her lips ever so smoothly, alcohol lingered, "that doesn't impress me".
Once more, she took a sip of her drink, although the burning was rather lourvid now to her stomach. The lights and smoke of the part blended into one like a kind of bliblical fog sent from the heavens. "I'd rather be a lover than a fighter," the glass was placed firmly back on the counter, although she felt anything but so herself. "There's too much fighting in this city, do you not think? Besides, I wouldn't want to wreck that pretty little face of yours". It was her turn to allow the back of her hand to trail across his right cheek, before momentarily resting upon his shoulder.
"Why I'm afraid there's not to say, sir. I'm a daddy's girl, always for my old man. 'Though, I only recently got back from England, Oxford exactly, where I studied the law," her eyes scanned his face for his reaction. "I almost miss the freedom of being away now as much as I missed him then".
***
Bax
As she turned away, Bax exhaled sharply. His shoulders rolled back ever so slightly now that he was no longer facing the hot grill of her questions. The sickening feeling inside of his stomach, however, when he talked about Niamh, that had not yet quite diminished. The memory was like poison to his mind, sparked the fire within and heated the blood coursing through his veins. It took every ounce of his strength to not reprimand her.
It would be very easy to stand there now and dish out justice. He would laugh at her words with utmost toxicity. "You're sorry?" He would ask bemusedly. "Not as sorry as your father will be when I return the favour". Only, he'd never do such an evil. He wasn't capable of the act. Bax had witnessed first hand the psychological and physical trauma that such an event had on the lives of people around.
It'd be a vicious cycle. He'd do it to her - and then what? Her brother would find a Monzanio girl, and that girl's brother would find an Alfayeed. It was sure way to wipe out the gangs, but it wasn't the one that he'd pick. At the same time, he risked too much in doing that anyway. In Monzanio managed to communicate that it had been him. Two gangs would be against him. If anything, he'd unite the underworld.
His eyes watched her, more like a prey than with any predatory undertones. At the same time, his hatred and bitterness, no matter how toxic, did not outweigh the inner shepherd inside of Baxter. As she pressed her forehead against the wall, and her hand nursed her stomach, he approached her slowly and placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he almost cooed. His hand slowly brushed from her upper shoulder to the shoulder blade, in small and gentle circles. "They're gone. We can take a moment if you want".
In his eyes were genuine concern for her. In the moment, all he saw was a girl not an Alfayeed, one who had just moments ago been very alone and vulnerable. In spite of how strong he could tell she was, such an event would shake up anyone.
"Didn't expect it to impress you, Ms. Jynx." he said as his mouth pulled to the side in a a slight smirk. "But you asked what I did outside the bar, miss. Not to be impressed." He had already met too many women that thought him being a gangster was means for love. So many before had fallen in love with the image he projected. With the beast that was hidden within his handsome front. But how many actually could stand seeing him when he actually needed to let the beast off its chain? How many only liked the idea of him and not the outcome, pretending like they were looking for a beast, but really only wanted an untrained dog to keep by their side. She was far too smart of a woman to be smitten with something so dull.
His mind was captivated by her touch, the feel of her fingers as they stroked over his cheek and the weight of her hand on his shoulder. It was a feeling of intensity, yet one he felt the need to always come back to. He had bed women before, but none had spun them about his fingers as she did. He took in a gentle breath, an attempt to steady himself as the alcohol tried to make him fall heir to every touch and push she gave him.
"I fight to keep on living." He said, he let a smokey breath escape him as he let his gaze fall so that it was on the cigarette that still hung from his lips. It was true enough. By this point, he doubted any would simply leave him by his lonesome. And if he did not fight in the cockpit, he did not know how he would let the rest escape. To keep himself from ending in a drunken stupor with a bullet being the final meal he ever felt on his tongue. He flicked his eyes back up, running over the way her waist curved in and her body sat so warm and nice close to him, then his eyes touched her own jewels as she spoke.
She studied law. He felt a smile touch his lips as he tilted his head back, letting the sharpness of his jaw be lit up by the bar lights and the curve of his adam's apple being set on full display as his dark hair brushed off of his brow with the movement. "Well you must think me a brute then, hm?" he said with a chuckle before he plucked his cigarette from his lips once more before turning it so he could place it back between her rouge lips, letting his fingers brush the soft flesh as he did it.
"Oh, leaving her does feel so free, doesn't it? Almost makes you regret coming back... I hopped the pond and went to States to go to Princeton. Fine school, if you ask me, studied maths there."
Jasmine
It was too dark. Too wet and too far away from a warm bed for her to say that she was fine. It had been by chance that she had gotten out of it, even if it had only been chance that they had managed to take her. All she had wished to do was see a picture in the cinema. Her eyes closed once more,, far tighter as she felt his hand weigh heavily upon her shoulder, her body still shivering in the cool of the night, but her heart and head feeling hotter than they had the right to be.
But she forced herself calm. Forced herself to take a step back and away from the wall that she had been leaning on, pressing her hand to her forehead as she gently shook her head. She did not have to understand how everything happened for it to have happened. I did not have to seem logical in the slightest. It did not have to make sense, she could only count herself lucky that they did not get as far as they wished to. That Bax had heard them before they could lift her skirt and do as they wished with her.
"I had just wanted to see the new Chaplain picture." she admitted quietly. "It was good... Like all his pictures..." Cinema had always had a place in her heart. Her eyes had lit like lights the first time she saw the men and women flit across the screen, moving in black and white but seeming to be so real. It had enraptured her in ways she thought nothing would be able to. "I suppose I thought on it too much..." And they had, perhaps, been watching for her. Perhaps knew how she frequented the picture house.
Finally she took a sharp breath and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she turned back towards him. They had stood still long enough. It was getting far too late to simply be loitering in an alleyway. It was simply asking to have to once again face that horror.
"We should go now." she said quietly. "So... No one else finds us."
How was a woman possibly supposed to handle everything that was going on? Her mind listened to his words intently, but her heart and body was elsewhere. It gave a painful thud against her breast, skipping a beat, as his fingers brushed against her face.
Jynx didn't allow the name of the institution to appear to affect her otherwise placid expression, though it did impress her. She allowed her lips to tighten firmly around the cigarette, supporting it with her hand as her elbow rested on the bar counter.
Unlike the girl who clung on to his friend as if for dear life, the seductress knew that 'easy' was no way to get a man. It definitely wasn't if you wanted him to stay. Leon knew that too apparently. He was using her own moves against her.
Raising her left leg and placing it upon her right, she rested it ever so slightly upon his own. "Mathematics," she said at last, a simple reiteration of his own words. Her lips twitched, as if she was judging if the subject was worthy of her approval, before settling into a mischievous smile. "What are your long term plans, some sort of family business?"
As it reached the butt, the young women put the cigarette out in the tray. Although the taste was in sharp contrast with the bourbon, she finished the contents of her glass. Truly, she'd lost track of how much she'd drank. God, she didn't even know what time it was. It had to be past midnight. Although far from Cinderella, if she was gonna sneak in successfully, Jynx was more than aware that she'd have to leave soon.
Spinning the glass with her finger, she rose slowly as she listened to his words. Perhaps it was the ale, but she could do it all night if she had the option. She didn't. Alas, homeward bound it would have to be. As she stood, however, the ground moved beneath her. An earthquake? A landslide? Or maybe just a very drunk Marilynn Monzanio. Regardless, her feet went from beneath her, and the young woman found herself practically falling in the lap of her counterpart.
"Does this count as falling for you?" She tried to laugh away the embarrassment, but the soft rouge was prevalent upon her rosy cheeks.
***
Bax
"Your wish is my command," Baxter attempted to lighten the mood, even just a little. His periwinkle pools glimmered in the moonlight like puddles reflecting the starry night, only his were with hidden intentions. Mischief pulled the corners of his lips, as if they were tied upon string, into a cheeky smirk.
Bax led the way, strolling in the direction that he'd parked his car. His shoulders were rolled back and his head held high, all etiquette that he'd learned from Monzanio. This upper class wasn't first nature to the fellow. Although, acting was his niche. If he couldn't be a gentleman, he could most certainly act the part. Charming people was who Bax was. The right words, the correct actions, they all just came to him, y'know?
"My car is parked around the block," he informed the woman behind her, taking the moment whilst he was ahead to eye her once up and down. Licking his lips tentatively, he added, "if you don't want me to drop you off home, then that's fine. I can understand, why you wouldn't want to be around strange men and whatnot". His eyes were gently deceiving. They consumed her beauty like a rare foreign delicacy. Forbidden fruit. He couldn't have her. She was just bait, but he wanted her. Slightly.
"I can hail a cab, if you'd like," He continued, "or follow you in my car. Either way, I don't feel too comfortable leaving. You can understand, right?" Aspects of that were true. If he left her, If something happened to her, similar to what had happened to his sister... how could he live with himself? His aim was to get rid of the gangsters, anything that happened to the rest would be collateral damage, nothing to do with him.
As they reached his car, he opened the passenger door, to let her know that his offer still stood, to uphold his image. "What pictures were you gonna see?" His eyes narrowed, particularly on her soft lips and the gentle structuring of her face. "I'm quite the fan of Chaplin myself. What if... tomorrow-" he paused, as if he were nervous, swinging on his toes a little, "what if I bring you to the picture house? We could see it together. My treat, to help you after what happened".
Leon could not stop the smirk that once again took over his lips as he rested back against the counter with his elbows. He let a gentle breath escape his nose as the cigarette that had gotten them through the night was finally put out. Despite the use it had proven to be when talking to this woman, he did not feel the need to light a new one as he simply continued to let his eyes trace across her face.
It was a fun turn to the night, he could not help but admit. And that was a large thing for himself to find himself saying, for usually he simply would write off his explorations in the night, shrugging them from his being with a simple bath. It was not hard, for no woman had quite struck him as this one had. No other woman had played with him with all their strength and had seen him for as he was as a man first before even looking at him as the rugged gangster that they longed for. But only ever the good. The suave and cunning, never the killer, never the one that could shoot a man in the head without a blink of his eye.
He gently shifted his legs beneath hers and tilted his head as she questioned his major. It certainly had not been an easy one to achieve, often leaving him slaving away over the numbers that swam across the page and there were many a sleepless night in which he rocked in the halo of light at his desk as he attempted to solve one problem to appease his professor.
"Long term." he murmured as he shifted forward once more so he could smell her perfume. "That's harder... but family business is right. Helping keep the numbers and what not. It is good enough, I suppose." Though there were many times in his life in which he wished he could say he was doing something better. More than that, there were days in his life in which he wished he could say he was doing something more. More than playing as the dog for his father. Though, for family, he supposed he would do anything.
When she moved to get up, he could not help but feel a certain disappointment touch his chest, despite the fact he knew this was how the night would end for them. He was about to get up himself, putting on his usual suave smile and ask her if she would be leaving so soon. Asking her to stay, but knowing she would leave and then asking to take her out himself, help her where she needed for she seemed far too drunk for him to comfortably allow her on her own.
Then she spilled directly into his lap, his hands coming about on instinct to catch her by the upper arms and hold her slightly to him to keep her from falling too far. And in that moment he could not help but flash a true, glowing, smile as a soft chuckle escaped his throat.
"If this is you falling for me, then I am disappointed you did not fall harder." He said as he carefully helped her regain her balance by standing himself and keeping his hands upon her forearms as he did so.
"I believe I truly do need to carry you home, don't I, Ms. Jynx?" He shed his own coat and reached to slip it over her shoulders. "So if you must go, I must insist we take my car, or I worry that you will somewhere that I am not waiting to catch you.
Jasmine
It was truly a consummation. Perhaps some would think her being dramatic, as most that seemed to have a love for the cinema and theatre were. But she was looking upon a strange man after other strange men had attempted to drag her to themselves and do with her as they pleased with no thoughts spared for what she may have wanted. He was her savior, yet she could not help but wish to question the intentions that he carried with him. Such a thing was ingrained in her head by her father.
Yet he would also tell her the merits of showing the proper respect to a man that had given her the gift of living to see the sun rise another morning and see the moon glitter up among the stars another night. Such could be repaid with anything other than the utmost respect, no matter what they had been to her in the days before. They had done something that they likely did not have to, and they had given something that was worth more than any materials that could be found in the living world.
She leaned back on her heel for a moment as she bit her lip, first looking at the car that he offered to her and then letting her eyes lift to the daunting vision of the night behind her. She practically trembled within herself at the sight of it. And then her eyes turned back to the scene that had been painted within the alley. And the gentle words that were offered by him, inviting her out to the picture house like a simple school boy rather than a man. It made her feel at ease in a way. Funnily enough, it made her feel more normal than anything. Despite what had happened. Despite him being far from the first that had attempted to pull her for a fun night.
She bit her lip for a moment as she lifted her eyes to truly study his handsome face for a moment. Then her head slowly began to nod before she could stop it, and she took a step forward and towards him. "I would like that..." she said quietly. "It doesn't have to be Chaplain, if you don't want." she thought to add on. "I like any picture."
Then she leaned and climbed into the car, settling herself in the seat next to the wheel as she pulled her gloves of and placed them into her lap, coming to the top of her dress to straighten, and then she cringed as she noticed the tear on it. Something that could not be helped, she supposed, but it still caused her to cringe.
The black Rolls Royce phantom was his new baby. The slick black curves made every hair upon his body rise, no matter how many times he'd seen it. It never grew old. It'd been given to him as a present, a token of 'goodwill' from his 'old friend Don Monzanio'. Bax understood, of course, what this really was. It was a prop, all part of the fake show that he had very convincingly shown the Alfayeeds. His show.
"Animals," he growled, as he sat in the driver's seat beside her. His hand subconsciously reached for the gear stick, and his foot revved the enginge. His eyes, however, were far from the road. Instead, they had locked upon the tear in her lavish little dress. It was the focus of his attention, and not in any kind of sexual fascination. "They deserved everything they had coming".
Then, he did something that surprised himself. It wasn't out of character. It certainly fit his caring persona. It was improvisation, movement from the script as he knew it. He placed a soothing hand gently, barely, upon her shoulder, then brushed her hair from her face with the back of his knuckle. "I have no doubt you can defend yourself," a small chuckle escaped his lips, low and husky, "but you're safe now. They're gone".
The car purred now, as he steered it along the rickety road and into the night. There was little congestion at these times, one of the best parts of a nocturnal life if you asked him. It was the time that the decent and innocent civilians went to bed, and the best time to catch some slimy criminals.
Her compliance about going to see a movie made him smile. As if upon a string, the corner of his lips tugged up, towards his ear, into a smug, satisfied smirk. "It's a date then," he declared cheekily, without even probing into whether or not she possibly fancied him like so. "Tomorrow, 5pm. You wear your finest dress this time, and I promise to return you home without as much as a little scrub of dirt".
For now.
"What direction is it next? I remember it being in this side of the city, but it's all a maze here to me. I've been away far too long". Away, where? He could hear her voice already. Yes, where, Bax? Sometimes, he really got carried away with himself, building himself characters with backstories so complicated that he could never remember anything he'd said.
"How's the aunt?" Minnie had asked, rolling over upon his chest. His muscular arms had wrapped around her undressed body, pulling her closer to where he lay. Her soft curls cascaded his chest in a chocolate pool, and her eyes had twinkled with naivety as she looked up at him.
He couldn't remember how they'd met. He'd been to drunk. Was it at a bar or a party? They'd been going steady for a few months. She thought he was a former solider. That he'd moved away, unable to cope with immense PTSD and lived with his sickly aunt, whom he took care of. He couldn't remember the name he'd given her, nor what she'd been suffering with.
"My aunt?" The words had nearly choked him. If she probed a little deeper, she'd realise how shallow his stories truly were. "She's recovering, slowly but surely".
"I thought she had tb," the small hand had tightened unnaturally. "You said it was terminal".
"I did?" Well done, idiot, he'd scolded himself. "Yeah, i did. It's amazing what a bit of dedication, family love and a good doctor can do, right?" Cue nervous laughter.
Baxter could definitely not avoid so many mistakes with this one. Minnie had been practice, and practice made perfect, right?
***
Jynx
"I do not fall for men," Jynx declared passionately, her breath hot and warm from the concentrated liquor. Although, it was more of a joke than a feminist protest, and her hand found that it made his way to his perfectly carved face. His chuckle had been like a symphony created solely for her, soft and serenading. It was the hands that melted her insides though, burned through all of her walls that she'd build against the men she'd entice, and let her skin tingling with warmth where they had touched.
"And if you would've liked me to have fallen harder, then it says a little more of your own failings than myself," her voice was low now, a trick that she'd learned from her father. Speak low, let others lean in towards you, seduce them like the little siren that you were born to be. Was she? What if she had wanted to be something else, a barrister? Why did she have to do this? Did it had to be a man's world? Did she have to sexualise herself, be a femme fatale or a house wife?
"Better luck next time, I suppose," she kissed his cheek swiftly, little more than a child's peck. That was exactly what she intended. Nothing serious, just fun, right? She didn't want to give him the wrong impression. A peck was playful, it upheld dignity and class. Anything longer was too easy. Anything less was just boring. It would give him a taste of what could be and, as a woman who's freedom was consistently constrained, she knew how torturous that could be.
He wanted to bring her home. Not home, they couldn't go there. She was meant to go to Elsie's. Only, god knew where Elsie had wandered. Better yet, she was likely sharing a bed with someone who weren't her best friend. If Jynx were to return to the girl's house, alone, that would be a great betrayal of trust and completely give away what ever lie her best friend would spin.
That was a no then, but she couldn't go to th Monzanio Mansion. Not that she'd confess it, but she rather liked this new mysterious stranger. Involving her family name only ever had two effects: it scared away the right people or attracted the wrong kind of sadistic weirdos. No, thank you, she'd quite prefer Leon to live in blissful ignorance. He'd definitely be dissuaded from her if he knew the truth. Sure, he was a fighter, but look how cute he was with his maths and family business. They were probably rich merchants or business owners, the right upstanding citizen kind of people.
"Home," Jynx almost laughed to herself, the word was a drunken blur. There were too many decisions for her drunken mind to handle. She simply wished to just melt away, to sink into the musky jacket that he had draped over her shoulders. "I wouldn't class the Cosmopolitan as home, but it's as good as for the time being". A grand hotel, genius. She had enough money for a night out. The next morning, she could return to Elsie's, where her father thought she was staying, and get her fresh clothes.
It would keep him ignorant, keep Jynx safe and Elsie out of trouble. "And, although I must protest that I would find your arms a lot comfier than any car," she paused, intertwining her small fingers with his own. "It is my understanding that we must at least uphold the outward pretense of righteous and Christian citizens for the innocence of the small crowd around us".
Her body felt heavy as she let her back rest against the seat of the Rolls Royce. her eyes fell closed as she felt a new wash of tiredness wash over her and the sweat that had popped to her brow began to cool in the night air and leave her feeling dirty and only wishing to go home and dip into a bath. Though she was not looking forward to have to face her family looking so ragged, to have her brothers taking her and interrogating her until they were able to figure out exactly who it was that they would be 'speaking to' in the days the followed.
Her father would be the most disturbed and angry, demanding that anyone that would show them so much disrespect and believe that there would be no response to their violence and discord. But then there was Bax that now sat next to her, driving her back to her home. Bax, who she knew her father would demand to meet, as well as her brothers. Perhaps to offer their goodwill. Likely to interrogate him themselves and demanded to know why it was he had stepped out to help their precious sister and daughter when those men had chosen to attack her in such a way.
In truth, she was unsure how such a thing would fair for Bax. Whether it would bring him goodwill or if it would cause him distress. Perhaps both, if he found himself frightened of powerful men easily. Though as she turned her eye to look at him, she could not help but doubt that, for he seemed to be so free. Not exactly uncontrollable, but in control of himself. Not left at the mercy of any other, only himself. And in that, she felt a certain admiration touch her bosom.
And as he gently let his knuckle brush over her cheek, she could not help but feel a blush bloom there as she turned her eye away. It was not everyday that such affection was rained down on her by a stranger. And not to mention it was a particularly handsome man that had done such a thing, so tender and carefully she had nearly felt like she couldn't have moved in fear that it would simply be gone when she shifted and would be back, blacked out in the alleyway.
Her cheeks were dusted with pink when he went on to say that his meeting with her would be a date. "I would never be allowed to go out in a dress that wasn't nice." She chose to say instead of mentioning that he had decided that they would be going out in such a way the next day. "Take a left here." she said quickly. "Then the second right. It should be the fastest way back there."
Her eyebrows did crease as she glanced to him from beneath her lashes. Many men did not leave when they came in to the life. Not unless her father had a job for them out of town, he often demanded they stay because they were needed to do jobs around him.
"Where were you sent?" she asked lightly. "You've recently returned here then, right?"
Leon
He could not help but chuckle. "You were the one that fall on me, miss, I apologize for misinterpreting it." he said as he was sure to keep close to her to make sure that she did not end up taking a fall in a place that he was unable to help. It would be sad day to see her pretty face bruised or bloodied because he was not close enough to stop her from hitting the harsh ground. He looked up towards the door as he mentally tried to recall where it was that he parked. But her next comment made him chuckle once more.
"Well, to be fair, miss, you are quite the woman, you have to give me credit for getting you to fall in the first place." he said with a slight smirk as he took her arm and carefully linked it with his own. If they were to walk out together, than he was going to do it properly. He was a gentleman, after all. And she was a Lady, and he could not help but wonder if she was a proper Lady, with a Lord for a father, living in her polite manners in luxury while he was on the streets taking care of the disrespect and rift raft that lined the streets.
He had known already that she was not like the whores that swung on the streets and would simply fall into his arms because he was a handsome face that might be able to fill her pockets with a few pounds. No, she was a proper Lady that did not wish to simply give some man, especially one she did not even know the last name of, and he wished to keep it that way for the moment. He did not want to see the look on her face when she knew he was who would come to be the leader of the Alfayeeds.
"The Cosmopolitan, hm? Father doesn't know you're out then?" he questioned with a chuckle as he began to lead her out,"That's where I go when my father doesn't know I'm out." That much was true. There were several days he wished to simply be away from it all, yet his father had chosen to decide that he was needed, even when he was not. That every single child of his was to stand before him as though something was actually supposed to happen when he simply wished to speak of the next person that he thought was in his way, though he never actually cared for Leon's opinion.
"Now I agree my arms are more comfy, but it might be sunrise by the time I walk to the Cosmopolitan." He chuckled as he slowly guided them towards his cadillac. It seemed Ramone would be going home with another that night anyways."Now, I suppose I can behave for the sake of the others around us, Miss, but I think if we didn't, they should learn to keep to themselves and let others have their fun." he said with a chuckle as he opened the door for her when he reached his caddy.
He was sure such a thing shouldn't have been done. He should have left her to fend for herself and then went separate ways. He was an Alfayeed. Not a gentleman that simply helped a woman that looked to give him nothing more than a peck on the cheek for his troubles in the night. But he held the door open anyways so that she could step in and be driven to her home for the night.
"Should I fear him if he knows of this meeting?" he asked with a soft chuckle, shoving the other thoughts away from his mind.
I would never be allowed to go out in a dress that wasn't nice. Them words weighted in his mind momentarily as he carefully followed the directions that she had given to him. "I never said you would," he decided were the right words to reply. "I couldn't imagine a dress not looking nice on you either. However, I'm sure a woman as independent and strong as yourself can dress herself, right?" He criticised the concept of her needing permission to wear certain things. Truthfully, it was a little absurd. It wasn't as if the lady was a whore. Class and sophistication flooded her veins as much as the blood that pumped through the entire population.
He paused at the junction, allowing the cars going horizontally to pass first. Using this moment of idleness, he turned to face her as she spoke, his eyes were enticed by the beauty her dark and mysterious face. "I had to skip town for a while," he replied as he began to drive once more, his eyes glued to the road. "My mother fell ill, nothing too serious but I wanted to be there for her, you know?" Women were suckers for a family man. "After what happened to my sister, I like to ensure that I can do everything in my power to protect everyone else, as you can tell from my invasive involvement in your little crisis".
Having took the second right, Bax thought about his mother for a moment. His old man had died of a cardiac arrest around five years back. He'd never been the same after what had happened to his sister, but then again no one had. Following the funeral, Baxter had assumed all responsibility of caring for his mother. Half of whatever money he made doing whatever job he could find had went on ensuring that she was well looked after. For doing this job, Monzanio had given him enough money to buy her a large house in the countryside of France, far, far away from all this drama. The surrounding area was truly beautiful, nothing but woodland and thousands of fields of flowers and the most amazing farmlands. It was the kind of place that they'd always dreamed of as a family.
"Where next, left or right?" He asked as they came to the next junction. Then, awaiting her response, he added, "are you close with your family, Miss?" It was an innocent enough question, far less probing than hers had been, and yet it would get him some information to feedback to Monzanio already, prove that his faith in Bax was not misplaced.
***
Jynx
The world had never looked so bright and yet so blurry simultaneously. Yet, perhaps that was merely her perspective. Yes, it definitely was. Trying to regain a proper consciousness, Jynx Monzanio closed her eyes, inhaled sharply through her nose, before exhaling a long sigh. When she opened her eyes, she'd half expected a miracle. Everything would be the right way around again. It wasn't. Nothing was the right way around, and she stumbled quite frequently over little else but her own feet.
"Father dearest is not going to know of this meeting because, you're right, he doesn't know that I'm out," as she tripped this time, she barely managed to hold herself up. It took grabbing his shirt to keep her upright, and sent the two crashing lightly into the side of the car. "Oops," the young vixen almost snorted, erupting into absolute fits of pure laughter. "I am so sorry. I-" her words trailed away as she looked up, her eyes falling upon his face. At least she was sober enough to be able to process it amongst the dim street lights, every line and every qcurve. "You are very nice to look at," Jynx found herself confessing, though she instantly regretted it, and added quickly, "and I am very drunk. Oh dear".
By some miracle, she managed to compose herself for a moment, standing straight and serious, before bursting into laughter again. "I like you, Leon," she said like a small child, before realising that she'd perhaps already confessed that. In her current simple mind, however, it was the truth. He made her genuinely laugh, for the first time in so long, and seemed to relate to her on so many levels. Her childlike attitude in her processing apparently extended to behaviour two. For, amongst her giggling, she brought her hand to the side of his face, closed her eyes, and closed the gap between them. Her lips brushed his own ever so delicately, before landing the next stroke a little more passionately. It'd be easy to assume that this was mature. It wasn't. Once more, as she pulled back, she burst into a fit of laughter.
"This is why my father can't know that I'm out," she gestured to her very sloppy and immature state, as she slowly clambered, somehow, into the passenger seat. Perhaps he had helped her, she couldn't recall, despite it only occurring a passing moment before. As she awaited him to take his seat beside her, she allowed her head to fall back as a small yawn attacked her lips. "How come you have to hide from your old man? Business too much already?"
Dressing herself certainly was something that she could do. And at the mention of it, she could not help but feel her lips curl up into a smile, for he was one of the first that seemed to agree with her on such a thing. While fashion was not the highlight of her mind, she did know what was quality and what was not. The silks that she often was draped in and then heels that adorned her feet despite how much they hurt could attest to that. Yet so many times, a dress was laid out for her to determine how she would look outside their doors. In all honesty, she did not like being nearly as flashy as they demanded her to be. But her father, he was a man that would always get what he wanted. Thus, her clothing was picked.
Her head tilted, eyes glimmering in the soft lights of the night as her soft lips parted in response to the story that he shared. He was but a man that had been seeking to go to his ailing mother and help her get back to full health, something than any decent man would do for his mother. She tentatively reached her hand out, as not to startle him while he was behind the wheel, and placed it on his shoulder as she bit her lip. "It's very kind of you..." she said quietly. Such nearly made her wonder how a man like him got tied up with a family that was involved in the crime of London.
Her own mother and sister were still in good health, always standing upright. Her mother the cold and sharp tongued brain of the Alfayeeds while she acted as the hold up, forever ensuring the family never parted. And then there came her pretty Dahlia always walked about, hips oscillating to attract the attention of any man that dared get to close, full lips painted and forever ready to leave men in want. And his next few questions caused her to think of them even further.
"Left." she said as she gestured in the direction. "And I suppose I am... close to a few... My father, he is my father after all." she said quietly. "My mother was really who took care of us. I suppose I'm closest to Dahlia and Leon though. I love all my siblings, but Leon is... he is special. And Dahlia-." she let out a soft chuckle. "Well, I guess I envy her a bit... She is the prettiest of all of us. And I don't have to ask the same question to you, you're obviously a man that loves his family more than most I've met."
She let her hand drop from his shoulder. "Right here. We may want to tread lightly, father might not recognize you and they can be... intense." She knew he likely already knew such, but he had not driven her to her home before, and that was much different than any normal job.
Leon
It was wrong to find humor in the plight of a lady. Yet, Leon could not help but feel his lips twitch into a smile as he washed her teeter about, him standing close enough to keep her steady she she swayed too far. Perhaps it was because she was the pillar of nobility. She was not a normal woman, but one that, even without turning her nose up, could look down upon so many others. as she was untouchable and always the tease as to what stood at the top. Flashy and beautiful, but here she was. Drunken as any other woman would be after too many drinks and such made her seem all the more human.
"I am quite fine with your father not knowing." He said as he made sure to right themselves both after the crash into the car. "And, my lady, I do quite like being looked at. And I must say that you are nice to stare upon as well." His lips had twitched up into a smirk, eyes taking on a playful glint as he used her unsteadiness as an excuse to keep close, acting as though keeping her from falling was his only incentive. But when his lips brushed against hers, he could only stand. And when the passionate brush touched against him once more, he had let his hand come to cup the back of her head for only a moment, before it was gone. The smirk stayed upon his lips, which he knew may have been a bit stained by the rogue that she colored her lips with.
"You're making me think you don't want me to leave your side." he said huskily as he watched her turn to clamber into the passenger seat, and he was sure to help anytime it seemed that she would not be making it in all the way. "Careful with that, my Lady, if you keep it up, I just might not be able to leave. And I don't think you wish for that, you may want to look to see if a better man exists before keeping me around." He carefully closed her door before he walked around the front of the car to climb behind the wheel, starting the caddy up before he decided to actually address her question.
"I hide from my old man because I wouldn't be able to do anything if I didn't," He said with a grunt. "He... seems to think his children are quite incapable of thinking for themselves, though I swore to him that the business wouldn't fail because I stepped out." He shook his head, it was too much about him.
He reached and lightly tapped her cheek, a grin coming to his lips. "I imagine that you have the same problem, hm? He doesn't think you can be fine out on your own? I think I'd have to disagree."
It didn't appear as though she was terribly close with her father. My father, he is my father after all. It sounded like some kind of batshit excuse he'd make after protecting his dad following his latest drama. Baxter's father had been far from accommodating. In youth, he'd beat the boy with his belt when he misbehaved, a true disciplinarian. Yet, his father's violence hadn't only extended to his son. No, following the death of his sister, the old man had never been the same. His fists would fly at anyone who dared disagree with him or his beliefs.
The police had been constantly knocking the mother and son up early hours in the morning. "Excuse me, m'am," Bax could remember the words clear as day, "are you the wife of Arthur Bronxton?" His mother would only meekly nod. Her words would always die at the edge of her tongue, as her mind scrambled for a polite way to ask 'what has he done this time?' He could still remember the look in her eyes as she descended the stairs, her gentle face marked with his father's signature black and purple bruising.
Eventually, they'd ran. Of course, divorce was unheard of. Technically, the two were still man and wife. Yet, they'd lived separate lives, hidden away. At one point, they'd even changed their last names to Costerelli. Baxter Costerelli was the name he still went by today. He never knew if his old man still lived to see another day, and he never cared. None of this he shared with the woman before him. Instead, he followed her directions carefully, before coming to a halt outside the grand manor.
"Why would you be jealous of your sister," He began, as he parked the car and killed the engine, "when you look so incredibly beautiful yourself?" With that said, he wasted no moment dwelling for her reaction. Keep 'em on their toes, Harrison, his bestfriend, had always said, that way they won't get bored. They'll always come crawling back for more. And it worked, every time, like a charm.
Sliding out of his door, Bax walked around to her side of the car and opened her's for her. "It's a pretty impressive castle that you've gotten here," He observered, narrowing his eyes at the building before them. This was exactly one of the many reasons that Bax hated criminals. They grew richer, grew stronger and built empires, whilst the poor suffered in their names. "Are you sure I'm not escorting a princess?"
Jynx
Even as a child, Jynx had never had known willpower. The word was foreign to her, alien. Her sister's eighth birthday party had been an example of that. Oh, the look of her father's face when he found that the devil's cake he had paid hundreds for, to Jean Gaunt, the world's finest craftsman, had been half eaten the morning before the party begun had been truly priceless. They all said that nothing phased Don Monzanio. Well, he certainly hadn't expected to find a smaller and chubbier Marilyn sitting in his wardrobe shoving a fistful of chocolate into her mouth. She'd eventually gotten rid of her unhealthy and obsessional eating, and was a whole lot slimmer as a consequence.
Yet, her obsessional behaviour had not been quite so easily consquered. This couldn't be more apparent than through her drinking and subsequent state. Or, perhaps, it was clearer in how she couldn't help herself around the mysterious stranger. Nothing could keep her words from flooding through her lips, neither manners nor society, not even self-respect. "Who says that I want you to leave?"
He was just so relatable and so very approachable. Had she been her usual suspicious self, she'd probably be wary of Leon and how he seemed so incredibly flawless, almost as if he was constructed as a trap to lure her into danger. It certainly would've been alarming that she understood him so much. After all, she was the daughter of a much feared and respected Don, and he was... a businessman with a maths degree? It didn't exactly add up.
You see, Jynx had the same problems with Don Monzanio, especially once she'd acquired her law degree. It was forever, 'do you have a moment, Marilyn?' or 'what do you think I should do about this, lamb chops?' She wasn't sure why he even bothered asking. It wasn't as if declining him was an option. Don Monzanio was a man of few words, and no wasn't one of them. "I came definitely relate," the young woman agreed, nodding her head ever so slightly. "I think that's just father's for you. Still though, I wouldn't trade him for the world, not even his awfully planned out jokes".
Well, there was perhaps one thing that she disliked, and that was his lack of faith in her as an independent. No one had ever really saw Jynx as the mature woman that she was capable of being, as strong and fierce as any man. For Leon to disagree with that... it truly meant something. "Is that so?" She asked him, at the idea of him disagreeing with his father. "Why, I'll have to let him know. Pass the message on. How come you believe that?" Her eyes glittered in the dark, heavy with a spark of gratitude for his faith.
"That's kind of you to say, Bax." she said as a small smile twitched on her lips before she shook her head. "But I am sure you say that to most women." Any compliment could bring a warmth to the bosom, but it was not an indicator of any kind of achievement. Kind people offered undeserved compliments all the time, fearful of what would happen if they said anything that could bring their newly acquainted friend down from whatever high that they had managed to achieve. Jasmine knew, for she was told such by her father whenever her lips twitched into a smile and she offered a kind remark out of pity to a patron.
Bax was so kind, she knew. Even if he was one of her father's men, he still did not need to save her, yet he did. And he did not need to greet her with kind words, yet there he was, showering her in compliments despite them being unneeded. Same was with most men, truly, especially those that knew of her family. If not too kind, too fearful to be seen as rude to an Alfayeed. Or perhaps they simply wished to get close to the family. Her father had warned her of such a thing, those that would be enraptured with the Alfayeed name and attempt to find a way to worm their way into it.
"A castle?" she said as she lifted her eyes to look upon the expansive mansion that was before her. It certainly did look like it. She shifted upon her feet as she gently shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose... But princesses don't tend to get caught by men while visiting the cinema." she said quietly, a small smile twitching on to her lips. "And they hardly accept help from dark handsome strangers, so I don't think I am quite fitting the mold." A soft blush touched her cheeks as the words were daring for herself, but she glanced up to him anyways. That was until a voice rang through the night.
"The fuck do you think you're doin' 'ere, mate?" Her eyes snapped away from Bax as she quickly stepped in front of him, at least blocking his chest from them view of the man that stood upon the steps. Jerome was glaring down at the face of the man behind her, a shotgun in his hand as he slowly descended the steps.
"Stop acting like that, you'll frighten him!" Jasmine exclaimed, switching from english to farsi quickly.
"That's the point of the shotgun, sweetheart." He grunted out as he continued, gesturing for her to step away before he put it away. "Now who are you, then?"
She let out a breath and slightly stepped from him, knowing it would be better to let the two properly meet rather than getting Jerome worked up enough to call the others, who she knew could only be just behind the door.
Leon
"If you wish for me to stay, miss, I will do it gladly. " he said as his lips pulled into a smirk. "Though I assumed you did not wish to be seen with me for too long, as you know how words flow."
The Ancient Greeks had story upon story of heroes that had done great feats. Though none of them had been the most moral of people, even by standards of a man such as him, they were great, they were strong and powerful. Images that showed what true strength was and explained fate and the failures of man. Achilles was one of those great men. An unbeatable force, the greatest warrior in the Illiad.
A man that was said to be protected by the Goddess Thetis chose to dip him into the river Styx in an attempt to bring him immortality. But like all things, there could never be perfection. His heel left out and ultimately being the cause of his death when it was struck by a divine arrow by Paris before he could take the hand of Polyxena. An end to a man that had went undefeated. One that seemed unfairly tame to a man so great.
Leon's eyes lifted as he touched upon the face of the woman next to him, letting his eyes briefly leave the road. It was rare that anyone managed to sink their teeth within him. There were many that wished to, many that was linger about him, hoping his neck would bend and they could find the vein that gave him life and then taste the blood that pulsed through him and know that they had caught the great son of Rami Alfayeed. A man that seemed to be just as elusive to the law as he was to death. Immortal and dangerous. A title he truly liked, because it made many of his jobs easier. But it was not one that he celebrated, only one that he thought necessary.
They'll wriggle their hips and kiss you until you're lightheaded. They'll pretend like they're this weak creature that can only live with your helping hand. Then they'll strike.
But as elusive as he was to death, he knew that it was a woman like this, if not this one, that would be his own Achilles' Heel.the reason why he falls so far from grace even when he was clinging to greatness. No, she did not act weak and frail, but that was why she had managed to grasp him, even when he was so used to pushing the kind feelings that touched his heart away. But even then, he could not care about his future fate, as he enjoyed himself to little to allow it to be ruined like that.
"Well, look at yourself." he said in answer to her question, eyes flicking to her once more as they came to a stop. "You defied his orders, hm? Any woman that could not stand herself would not dare to defy her father in such a way. And from the looks of it, you don't go crawling to daddy for anything, preferring to do it yourself rather than letting him do it for you. And you certainly know your words far better than most that I know, men and women included in that."
His eyes lifted as the hotel began to come into view and he began to slow the car. "Though it's a shame most men are too stupid to realize that, eh?"
I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end.I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow. Bax recited the poem in his head that had helped him sleep on those restless nights. With a smile, he caught the eye of his enemy. Jasmine, though an Alfayeed, had never been directly involved in his sister's murder. Yet, this man, Bax recognised his face all too well from the description that his sister's friend had given to the police artist.
And I waterd it in fears. Night & morning with my tears: And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles. "Good evening, sir," Bax killed the engine, tilting his hat in the direction of the lady's brother accompanied with his signature charming smile. "The names Bronxton, Baxter Bronxton. It's a bit of a mouthful, I know". He paused, gesturing to the woman beside him who, thanks to him, was fully intact. "I rescued Jasmine here from a couple of Monzanio boys who were up to no good".
And it grew both day and night. Till it bore an apple bright. And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine. "I've worked for your father before," he slumped a little into his chair, as if he hadn't the slightest worry in the world about the million ways that this plot could go wrong. If Monzanio's inside man hadn't slipped that paperwork, proving that Alfayeed had hired Bronxton, inside the man's office, he was a dead man. No, death would be a loving embrace compared to the torture that would commence in search of answers.
And into my garden stole, When the night had veild the pole; In the morning glad I see; My foe outstretched beneath the tree. He had faith. You had to have faith and commitment to win these kind of wars. Eventually it would be them with the rope around their neck, knowing that all it took was a slight kick of the box beneath to cut away their life line. It made him wonder, who had pissed off Blake? Had they tormented his sleep as the Alfayeeds did to Bax? Was there ever any solace found in imagining his enemies death, putting it in words as if history had triumphed? Bax liked to think so. And yet, he wondered if Blake's enemy had a sister quite like Jasmine? Perhaps not, it did make the taste of revenge a little more bitter than he would've liked.
His mother would be scolding him. He could hear her now, reciting, 'I say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also'. Only, he had nothing left to give the Alfayeeds. No cheeks left to turn. They'd destroyed his life. They'd slaughtered his sister, deteriorated his father's mind, and robbed his mother of any chance of happiness. Didn't the bible also say 'if there is serious injury, you are to take life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise'?
Bax would apply justice as he felt suited, for every life they had ruined.
Jynx
Many times, in youth, Marilyn had heard her father utter the wise words: 'a blessing in disguise'. It was a long time before she understood what this meant. Things that sometimes felt bad could offer valuable opportunities where they have evoked pain. And yet, in her experience, the opposite had always appeared much more frequently. There were more curses disguised as blessings - friends with hidden knives, lovers with dark intentions. The world was a dark place.
This she'd also learned from childhood, through the Greek myths that her mother would read to her in bed. For example, the Trojan horse, a story which every man and his dog were familiar with about the huge hollow wooden horse constructed by the Greeks to gain entrance into Troy during the Trojan War and slaughter the people inside the walls. Yet, more particularly, it was the story of Prometheus and Pandora that sprung to mind.
After Prometheus gave the gift of fire to mankind, what would appear to be a blessing, their only defence against the cruelties of the world, Zeus was displeased. Fire was for the Gods. Now, Prometheus was imprisoned for his crimes, tortured each day as a bird ate him alive before reincarnating for the next, but in turn for human acceptance Zeus punished them with Pandora.
He gave her to Epimetheus as a bride, whom he took with utmost glee in spite of Prometheus warning him. Pandora was modelled after the goddess of Aphrodite, and given the gifts of health, beauty, intelligence, musical talent. Yet, most importantly, she was moulded to be curious. For their wedding gift, the mighty god gave them a jar, which he warned could never be opened. A curse in disguise as a blessing.
Now, Pandora, who was created to be curious, could not help herself. She found herself more and more enticed toward the jar, until one day she opened it at last and unleashed all the evils we know today: war, illness, misery, depression. Though Jynx found this story indeed rather sexist - just like in the Bible, the first woman was the one to fuck everything up - and did not at all believe there to be any truth to it, the lessons were all there. Never openly accept something for what you presumed to be. Always know what you are getting yourself into. And here she was in deeper waters than she could swim, where the tide was growing stronger and stronger.
What evils could possibly be unleashed by a mere arithmetican?
"You are not like most men," was her response, as her eyes befell upon him. For some pathetic reason, he knew all the right words to simply melt her insides. It was as if he controlled her, a lifeboat that had the power to drift her wherever it so pleased. More stupidly, she found that she yearned for stupid things, like his eyes upon her face - for how he had the ability to make you feel as though you were the only thing that mattered! - or his hand brushing against her face. "You're quite a peculiar gentleman".
The tension had swelled to an insurmountable throb as the two men looked upon one another, for no matter how civil Bax attempted to set himself, Jerome's eyes still were fixed upon him, cold and unkind as his fingers slipped about the cold shaft of the gun, though Jasmine's eyes were locked upon the way his finger twitched upon the trigger, waiting for one wrong move that would lead him to squeeze and set the man before him blasting back, letting blood splatter the car and then likely take it for himself.
His head tilted as his graze slowly drifted away from Bax and to Jasmine who had decided to take steps closer to him, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she cautiously glanced back to the man that had saved her. And she could not help but know that he must have worked for her father at some point for him to act so unafraid of the gun pointed at him and seeming to not care, as though he knew already that the man would not shoot him. And it was in Jasmine's deepest hopes that simply by letting him bring her here, he had not damned her hero down to being nothing more than a statistic lost upon the road and killed by the Alfayeeds. Such seemed unfair for him.
"Jerome." She said quietly as she stepped close enough so that if the shot gun continued to point forward it would be pressed solidly against her breast, buried until the cold muzzle was shoved against her rib cage, only inches from her heart, leaving there be only one small movement between him and blasting his own sister away from the steps and leaving her the one dead upon the streets. It was all she knew how to make him stop in his tracks and take his mind from the red that had found it, as he was far from a man of reason, and she counted herself as one that would force him to see it.
His lips curled, eyes hardening as he sharply took a step back and away from her, shoving the muzzle towards the ground and pulling his hand completely from the trigger. "Goddamnit, Jasmine!" he growled as he let it hang at his side. It was only then that Jasmine let out a breath, though obviously he was not satisfied. "What if I-?" He huffed again, but he was back and away from his dangerous mind.
"He did save me." She insisted. Though Jerome still looked unimpressed. His mouth kept pressed in a line, though he did not step about her to continue his aim. Instead his eyes lifted to meet Bax once more before he let out a breath and the hardened look left his face completely as he let fingers brush over the tear upon her dress and then turned back to the man in the car.
"Any of the fuckin' bastards alive?" And before any answer could come, Jasmine shook her head. "Fuckin' shame, I'd like to put a bullet in one of their fat heads." He said before he nodded to Bax. "Father will hear then. You can expect some pounds comin' your way." And Jasmine let a relieved smile touch her lips as she turned back to Bax, knowing the night had been saved for them both.
Leon
For a few odd moments, silence touched them, as he let his hands curl about the wheel as his eyes kept on the road, though there was hardly any traffic as they drifted through the night, streets barely lit by the lights that resided in the front and scenery passing faster than he thought necessary, as he was inclined to let that moment live in forever as he continued on through the city, weaving through the maze like streets as his eyes searched for that hotel that he himself had spent many a night inside in order to escape the forever watching eye of his own father, of all others in his family as they all wished to see him act to their standard, as he was an Alfayeed, even if he was not within their family by blood.
From most, he felt that he needed to hide. As it was not only the family that he was surrounded with that expected him to act in such a certain way, as those that walked the streets that knew his name knew him as only an Alfayeed. The next in line after his father finally let death take him, something that would likely bring a certain joy among many before they looked to Leon. As Leon knew that many thought his mind would never be able to reach the cunning of his father. He would never be the careful planner or strategist.
Though she seemed different. And he could only think that was because she did not know his last name, as if she did, she would not be in his car. Instead, she would deny him to even look upon her and likely demand that he let her out now, no matter what connection had been made between them now, that simple word would let her know that she shared a space with a monster rather than a man. A statue upon the road that felt no emotion and simply let his iron fist fall on whomever he deemed deserve it. And not even with careful detailed analyst of his mind.
"A peculiar gentleman? I would suppose I am." He said with a gentle chuckle. "And I take that as a compliment. Because I take that to mean that unlike most men I actually have an ounce of common sense in my head." His head tilted as he dared a glance over to see the curves of her face as the light strobed across her fair skin. The car was slowly coming to a stop as the hotel came to view, his foot easing on the break as he let the gas go completely. A soft breath escaped his nose as he nodded to the hotel that they now were before.
"And I must admit, if no other man can see exactly to what extent you are capable, I certainly do not wish to be like most men." His lips curled up though he felt his chest tighten as he could see that this would mean that his night would be coming to an end, as he could not think of simply returning to the pub and drinking the night away while his friend let the village whore speak him up and take him back into the nearest cheap hotel to rock her against the walls. He supposed he should have expected to be left on his lonesome that night.
"If I must go-." He dared. "I must ask that I see you again. Perhaps for a drink, though with one another rather than being abandoned again? I would say, 'if your father permits' but I feel this is entirely up to you, as if you wish to come, you will, hm?" he said as his smile widened. "Perhaps a place a bit more classy and dinner to go with it?"