The Coyotes Cry-One
*gif made by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Pairings: MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian x OFC.
Warnings/Tropes: violence, death, swearing, smut(very mature), angst, fluff, forced proximity, forbidden love, dark romance, mafia themes, arranged marriage, tattoo artist.
Summary: Centered on the story of a young bride whose fairy-tale vision of the Concrete Jungle is shattered when her father, part of the Irish Crime Family; McManus strikes a marital peace deal with the mafia head of OMNS, Noah Sebastian. Scarlett is faced with rage and conflict, as she is forced to work alongside her new husband in his tattoo shop that fronts for his mafia dealings. Devastating events leave Scarlett with the realization that there is more to Noah than meets the eye. "I would willingly, lay down my life for you if I had to." The power of love is thicker than blood.
Authors Note: Here is chapter one! I don't think this series will be more than six parts but you never know with how often I'm always adding things. This series will have mature themes throughout as a warning.
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NOAH
The screams were muted due to the concrete confines of the room, the cold, moist air circulating us in a suffocating grip. But none of that mattered, the only thing that did was strapped to the chair in front of me. Cleaning the sharp blade on the once-white handkerchief, I clicked my tongue at the raw screams.
“Scream all you want. No one can hear you all the way down here,” I said while pointing to the concrete walls. “I mixed the concrete myself with a special formula. Think of it as soundproof.”
The man spat blood at my feet, nearly missing my black boots. “Fuck you!”
A chuckle to the left of me and I glanced over to one of my right-hand men, Joakim. Although, we in OMNS always called him Jolly.
“I applaud the fire in you,” Jolly nodded at the man. “You’ll need it.”
Twirling the knife between my fingers, I yet again asked the same question that I asked three times previously.
“Who killed Vincent?”
“I already told you fuckers, I don’t know!” The man, Barry, choked out on a mouth full of blood. “You’re asking the wrong guy!”
As Barry fought against the bindings, the chair scraping against the ground at our feet, I hummed in mock disappointment. “No, Barry. I don't think we are. My intel tells me that someone in the Irish Mafia killed a dear friend of mine.”
“I hate to tell you, your intel is wrong,” Barry said with a dry chuckle.
Suddenly his screams of agony sounded like music to my ears as I dug the knife deep into his thigh directly above the previous wound that Jolly had given him with the screwdriver. My hair fell into my eyes and I hastily brushed it back with my large hand, blood smearing in the dark strands. I’d been due for a haircut for the last few weeks but haven’t found anyone able to give me the correct Levi cut since my older barber passed away.
“My intel is never wrong,” I gritted out through clenched teeth while twisting the knife deeper.
Barry was a blubbering mess, dark tendrils of his hair covered the agony on his face so with a sharp nod from me, Jolly stood behind Barry and ripped his head back so I could watch in pleasure.
“Now, I’m only going to ask one more time,” I twisted the knife deeper. “Who killed Vincent?”
He did his best to writhe away but with my knife piercing him in place and Jolly’s tight grip on his hair, there was nowhere for Barry to run. Blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, and the cut on his eyebrow. Before we captured him, he had the looks of a movie star but now, I couldn't help but cringe.
“I already told you,” he sobbed, a mess of blood and snot. “I swear.”
Jolly and I shared a look for a brief moment before we pushed away from Barry to slink over to the far end of the room to have a conversation.
“Do you believe him?” Jolly tied up his hair into a messy bun.
I placed my hands on my hips and sighed. “I don’t think he knows who killed Vincent but he knows the right direction we need to look. We need to crank it up a notch and show him that OMNS isn't going to back down from this.”
Instantly, he understood and while he retreated up the stairs to my office, I titled my head at Barry.
“What family do you work for?” I asked.
His breathing was shallow and unsteady thanks to the hard blows of Jolly’s fists to his ribs but I had to marvel at this kid's drive to remain loyal.
“The Walsh’s,” he eventually answered.
My brows furrowed in confusion. “The Walsh’s haven’t been around since they moved their operations back to Boston. Why are you still here running the streets for them?”
Barry lifted his heavy head and wore a smug smile. “Call me committed.”
“No, I don't think that’s it,” I shook my head and took two large steps towards him, him shrinking back into himself. “I think it’s the fact that you’re lying to me and I fucking hate liars.”
“Fucking shit!”
He cursed when I ripped out the knife from his thigh to press the blade against his neck.
“You’re insane,” Barry shuddered when he noticed the playful gleam in my eyes.
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But I also don’t like liars. Now, I’ll ask again. What family do you work for?”
“It’s a new family on the rise called O’shove it up your ass,” he spat in my face.
Literally.
His saliva and blood dripped down my cheek but I didn’t even flinch and made no effort to wipe it away. Instead, I broke out into a wide smile when I heard Jolly returning with something special in tow; something that made Barry’s eyes widen in fear.
“Wh-what the fu-fuck, man?! Do you just have that lying around?” He stuttered.
Glancing over my shoulder, I extended my hand to Jolly who in turn placed the handle of the katana in my palm. Standing straight now, I studied the old sword with careful precision.
“This used to be my great-great-great grandfathers; passed down through each generation. It might be old but I have the blade sharpened every once in a while, just in case,” I said while slowly removing the blade from the sheath.
The dim light overhead cast its faded yellow glow on the sharp blade and something inside of me twinged with sheer delight.
“Ju-ju-st in case fo-for what?”
Jolly snorted at the stuttering mess of Barry while leaning against the concrete wall.
“Tell us what we want to know and you won’t have to find out.”
The sharp tip of the katana pressed lightly against Barry’s jugular, all it would take would be one flick of my wrist to end it all however I refrained, not wanting to end the fun before I got what I needed.
“What family do you work for?” I asked again, this time with less patience than the last time.
Barry’s eyes glanced down from the long blade at his throat to Jolly then finally up to me as I towered over him. His bottom lip wavered as he finally nodded.
“Okay, okay. Promise you won’t kill me?”
He tried to wager but to humor him, I gave a curt nod. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll think about it.”
“Fuck,” Barry sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m good as dead anyway. The McManus family don’t like rats and a low-level drug dealer like me isn’t worth saving.”
My grip on my katana slipped slightly at the name but I was quick to recover. “The McManus?”
He nodded widely. “ Yea. I work for the brothers; Connor and Murphy. I deal their drugs and run their errands.”
“So you’re their bitch?” Jolly asked.
Barry’s shoulders fell. “Essentially, yes.”
“Did the McManus brothers kill Vincent?” I asked while tightening my grip on the handle of the katana.
“No,” he shook his head, the blood from the wound above his eye now pooling into his eyes. “But they might know who did it. I can try and set up a meeting with them, on your behalf. Maybe they can lead you in the direction you’re looking for?”
Jolly gave me a look and I held up a finger, not quite finished with my conversation with Barry.
“Why the fuck would they listen to you if you’re just their bitch?”
This brought a wicked smile to his face as he used his shoulder to wipe away the blood from his chin.
“Because Murphy McManus doesn't like it when his daughter is threatened.”
A loud rumble erupted in my chest, like a ravenous growl, as I dug the blade of the katana deeper into Barry’s neck, blood now oozing from the fresh wound. I ignored his wails of pain, now only seeing red.
“You’ve got some balls kid to threaten the daughter of one of the most feared Irish Mafia families,” I said.
Barry shrugged in his binds. “I didn’t say it would be coming from me. Word on the street is that McManus' grandfather had issues with your grandfather some odd years ago. They’d believe me if I said the great Noah Sebastian was looking to start a turf war.”
With a scowl, I snapped my head at Jolly. “Get this piece of shit his phone so he can make the call.”
Never once faltering the blade from Barry’s neck, I watched with narrowed eyes as Jolly removed one of the binds around his wrist and tossed the phone on his lap.
“Make the meeting. If I hear one threat on the daughter, I’ll end your life before you even hang up the phone,” I seethed behind the mask of my hair as it fell into my eyes.
My heart beat like a thunderstorm in my chest at the thought of the McManus daughter. No one knew of her and what she meant to not only the family but me as well; besides my closest allies.
Barry’s fingers worked fast to type out a message before showing me the screen and with my free hand, I snatched it from him to read it.
Barry: The brother's food will be delivered at six p.m. tonight.
Unknown: What’s on the menu?
Barry: Japanese with a side of Swiss.
“Joakim is Swedish,” I corrected Barry. “I’m assuming this whole dinner rous is to keep the authorities off your back if they go snooping?”
“Look at you! I think you earned yourself a gold star,” Barry joked.
Jolly’s fist collided with his face, his neck snapping to the side, and the faint red mark from his ring began to rise on Barry’s cheek.
“Let me guess, he’s the muscle between the two of you?” Barry spat out a chunk of blood.
Not bothering to look away from his phone as a new message came in, I answered his question.
“No, that’s Ash. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.”
Unknown: Dinner will be served in the study. 6 o’clock.
“It’s set,” I tossed the phone to Jolly who dropped it to the ground seconds before his boot came crashing down on it.
“What the fuck! You guys owe me a new phone!”
Placing the sheath back over the katana, I set it on the table along with the other wide variety of weapons and turned back to Barry with my hands crossed behind my back; grasping the weapon tightly. He glanced between Jolly and me and noticed the sinister gleam dancing behind my honey eyes.
“Hang on,” he began thrashing in the chair, free hand swinging widely. “You said I could live.”
“I did. But watch what you say next.”
Quickly, Jolly grabbed Barry’s free arm to drag his still-bound body over to the table behind me and held his wrist down. His hand was on display for my wicked plan.
“Barry, I have a question for you. If you answer wrong, well-,” I pulled out the hammer from behind my back and shook it in front of him.
His eyes widened in fear but I paid no mind to it, simply asked my question.
“Will Murphy’s daughter be there tonight?”
“Fuck no! Dumb broad never leaves her bedroom,” Barry answered. “She’s holed up in there all hours of the day. The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.”
Jolly sucked in a breath just as I raised the hammer, bringing it down on Barry’s pinky, whose cries were overshadowed by the noise of his bones breaking.
“Why are you so obsessed with this broad?!”
I brought the hammer down again, this time breaking his ring and pointer finger. Now he was practically having an exorcism with how he was moving about on the chair, struggling to break free from the binds.
“One more question then I’m finished with this game,” I said while craning my neck to the side before getting eye level with the man. “Do you suspect the McManus family killed Vincent?”
While he stayed silent, the look that flashed over his hazel eyes told me everything I needed to know. Turning on my heels, I dropped the hammer on the table and began walking upstairs to leave Jolly to clean up until Barry’s voice halted me in my tracks.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the broad pulled the trigger herself. She’ll do whatever she can to get Daddy’s attention since she was never the favorite..”
My shoulders went rigid and I could faintly hear Jolly mutter under his breath something in Swedish before I grabbed the gun from behind my back that had been tucked in the waist paint of my black slacks and fired two rounds straight into Barry’s chest.
“Noah,” Jolly started.
I waved him off before dropping the gun on the table. “Let’s be real, Jolly. We weren’t letting him walk out of here alive anyway.
“McManus,” he sighed while rubbing his jaw. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
I cleaned the blood from my fingers and rings before letting out a long breath. I knew he wouldn’t remember the name but that name haunted me for years, plagued my entire existence in more ways than one.
“They’re one of the most notorious Irish Mafia families. Their lineage started in Ireland generations ago before relocating to Boston where the McManus brothers were raised by their grandfather, Fergal. They moved to Los Angeles when the brothers were in their mid-twenties.”
“Wait,” Jolly’s head snapped over towards me. “The twins that went on that killing spree all those years ago in Boston. The last anyone heard from them is when they shot Yakavetta in open court.”
“Exactly why they moved here. Fergal didn't appreciate the hot trail on them so they hid out here for a few years. But Fergal couldn’t handle laying low for long because he began building the ranks here. Overstepping on my grandfather's turf, because he was still young at the time.” I grabbed the weapons we used on Barry and tossed them into the bucket of bleach in the utility sink.
“You know a lot about this family,” Jolly noted.
I hummed. “My grandfather told me all about them growing up. He wanted to make sure I was well versed in the McManus family once I took over.”
Glancing down at myself, I hummed again in displeasure when I noticed the blood spatter all over my white turtleneck.
Should have worn the black one, idiot.
I went about cleaning up the mess, ignoring the slumped-over body in the chair for a moment.
“The daughter. Do you think she did it?” Jolly wondered.
I halted unraveling the plastic we used to wrap the dead bodies for a few seconds before letting my shoulders drop slightly. “I don’t believe so. While the McManus brothers do hire hitmen to do their dirty work, there’s no way Murphy would make his own blood do it.”
“I know there’s some sort of history between you and her. With all of us-”
His words trailed off when I snapped my eyes over to him. “There is no history, Jolly. She’s just someone who went to high school with us. That was years ago and I doubt she even remembers that we went to the same school. She was too busy being preoccupied with other things.”
All of us in OMNS grew up together since we were twelve years old, Jolly moved here from Sweden when he was ten. We’d all been inseparable for the last sixteen years in the schoolyard and now the streets of the Concrete Jungle.
Not saying another word, the two of us busied ourselves cleaning up our mess and by the time we returned upstairs to my office. The staircase to the hidden basement was located behind a bookshelf and while Jolly closed it, I rummaged through the drawers of my desk to find a different shirt.
Now dressed in a fresh black t-shirt, we stepped out of my office and the sounds of tattoo machines reached my ears and I smirked walking into the open lobby. Every one of my artists had someone in their chairs and my most sought-after artist, Nicholas, glanced up at me for a second before returning to tattooing his client.
“How’d the meeting go?” He asked.
“Didn’t work out. We have another one set for 6 tonight,” Jolly informed.
I went up to the counter of my tattoo shop and glanced down at the book. It was a full day of appointments not to mention the group of girls that came in for a walk in. They were chittering like birds about how it was the blonde's bachelorette party and she specifically wanted me.
In more ways than one.
While she was cute, she wasn’t my type.
Roger, the receptionist of Under The Right Lights Tattoo Parlor, and newest recruit of OMNS glanced at me over his shoulder.
“Oh hey, Noah. Are you ready for the walk-in?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not tattooing today. But I do have a job for you.”
His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”
“Tonight when the shop closes, stick around. We need your help with something,” I patted his shoulder.
“You got it, boss,” Roger nodded with a wide smile.
Turning on my heels, I stuffed my hands in my pockets to glance at my studio. I opened Under The Right Lights about six years ago and even though we had a slow start, once word got out that Noah Sebastian and Nicholas Ruffilo tattooed here, business flowed in through the doors.
I took over my grandfather's other business eight years ago but needed something to cover those dealings so that's when I thought of opening a tattoo shop with my best friends; my brothers. While Nicholas tattooed, Jolly ran the financial side of things, and Nick, or as we called him Folio, ran the motorcycle shop right next door. He was a mechanic, one of the best in town, and he often frequented here through the door to the left of Nicholas’ booth when he wasn’t busy fixing bikes.
Above my tattoo shop housed thirty apartments, all owned by me, and I lived in the penthouse on the tenth floor. Everyone in OMNS also lived in their own units so we could always be close to each other, in case something came up. With nine of the units being occupied by us, I rented out the other twenty-one for another form of income each month.
I treated everyone as an equal with the tattoo studio and OMNS but they also respected me enough to know that I had the final say with both. Things didn’t get approved unless I gave the okay.
Glancing down at my watch, I noticed that it was only four in the afternoon meaning we had a few hours until we met with the brothers. So I walked over to the back area of the shop where we used a private section to make a small gym where I knew Ash and Byran would be.
Ash was not only my bodyguard but he was also my trainer and Bryan took photos of the tattoos and ran our social media account.
“Tonight, six o'clock,” I said while crossing my arms.
Bryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “I’ll make sure the SUV is loaded up.”
“Thank you,” I then turned towards Ash. “I’ve got a body downstairs. Do you mind?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll bring Matt. He needs a break from managing everything. Get out and smell the trees in the woods. Or the salty brine of the ocean.”
With a snort, I bid them goodbye before retreating into my office and ignoring the preposterous waves of the blonde in the waiting area and instead thought of a certain redhead.
SCARLETT
With a longing sigh, I brushed away the fire-red strands of hair from my face and adjusted my position on my bed to continue reading the book in front of me. It was the book Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation by L. David Mech. This was the third time I’ve read but every time, I somehow learned something new.
I've been out of college with my degree for four years now and although I haven’t done anything since then, I still tried to keep up with my studies. The possibility of opening up a wildlife rescue still weighed heavy on my mind but I knew my father would never agree to it. His money was to be used for other business opportunities.
The spiral notebook was filled with my chicken scratch handwriting and after tossing down the pen, I shook out the cramp from my hand to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It was nearing six in the evening and when it would be time for dinner with my father and uncle, they had to cancel due to a meeting that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Next to the clock was a picture that made my heart drop to my stomach like it did every time. It was of me, my father, and my mother back on my eighteenth birthday and high school graduation; the last picture we took together.
Because she was murdered that night.
Eight years later the tears still burned in my eyes when I thought back to that night. We were driving home from dinner when someone crashed into our car and ran it off the road into a ditch. My father managed to pull me from the wreckage before the car burst into flames; my mother however wasn’t that lucky. We never found out who ran us off the road that night and whenever I asked about it, my father would wave me off and say one word only.
Revenge.
The relationship with my father was never the same since that night and once my Uncle Connor moved in, I retreated into myself. I loved them both dearly, but I blamed their life in the Irish Mafia for my mother's death. I did my best to remain respectful because I still lived in the McManus estate and knew I couldn’t make it on my own; not yet. My father had made it clear more than once that the only way I was to move out was either if I had my own money or married.
Hence why I was doubling up on my studies, I needed to find some kind of job with my degree, a simple job at a store or fast food place would not be enough to survive on my own. And clearly, my relationship with my boyfriend was nowhere near marriage level yet; we’d only been together for less than a year and never spoke about getting married.
I checked my phone and noticed Cory texted me a little while ago.
Cory: I have to cancel tomorrow night, sorry. Work is sending me out of town and won’t be back till Sunday.
I rolled my eyes knowing damn well he wasn’t the slightest bit sorry.
Me: OK. See you then, I guess.
I locked my phone, the sound echoing in the quiet of my bedroom, and I busied myself once again with the book in front of me until there was a soft knock on my door.
“Yes?” I called out.
The door cracked open slightly and a head of white curls popped their head inside and I instantly smiled.
“Hi, Dortha.”
“Hello dear,” our housekeeper smiled, resting her frail hands in the pocket of her apron. “I know your father and uncle can’t make dinner but I still made your favorite. If you’re hungry.”
My stomach growling gave way to my answer so with a chuckle, I let my studies be to follow Dortha out of my room and down to the dining room where I knew she already had a plate of food set up for me.
NOAH
The car ride across town to the McManus estate was filled with the ramblings of the other members of OMNS while I sat quietly behind the wheel, mind filled with more pressing matters. I gripped the wheel so hard that my knuckles were turning white, something Nicholas, who sat in the passenger seat, noticed right away.
“Are you alright?”
I nodded. “Just going over what I’m going to say.”
Pulling the car to a slow stop at a red light, I drummed my fingers against the dashboard, trying another thing to calm my nerves since the deep breathing exercises my therapist recommended weren’t working.
“Hey boss,” Roger spoke up from the back seat between Ash and Bryan. “Maybe someone else should drive. You seem nervous.”
My eyes sliced into him through the rearview mirror. “No one drives my car but me.”
With a shaking hand through his golden locks, he nodded and kept his head down the rest of the drive once I hit the gas again.
“Do you know what you’re going to ask them? Folio wondered from the seat behind me while tapping the wooden drumsticks he always carried on his lap.
“I’m thinking of coming out right and asking if they have any idea who killed Vincent,” I answered.
Jolly shifted in the seat behind Nicholas and without having to gaze over at him, I knew he wasn’t too thrilled about my idea.
“I’d say we just pop these fools. End this turf war once and for all,” Roger pipped up again.
His excitement for being brought along tonight was evident but I was suddenly regretting my decision.
“Chill, we need to be smart about this,” I said.
“We can’t go in there with guns blazing,” Jolly added.
I came to a stop in front of the large, gothic-like gate, and rolled down my window so I was able to click the button on the intercom.
“Yes?” A thick Irish accent responded.
I cleared my throat. “I have the brothers' dinner. Japanese with a side of Swiss.”
Only static came from the speaker for a long moment until the loud creak of the gate caused Roger to jump in surprise and Byran to stifle a laugh behind his hand. The SUV glided up the long drive with ease as the setting sun spilled inside casting all of us in an orange and purple glow. We all piled out as soon as the car was parked in front of the McManus manor and I nodded towards Bryan, Ash, and Roger.
“You three hang back in the foyer in case the brothers don’t want all of us in the meeting,” I said while clicking the safety on my gun before stuffing it in my back waistband.
While Ash and Bryan agreed, both double-checking their weapons, Roger on the other hand made his distaste for my orders known with a low scowl.
“All due respect, Noah,” he began.
I adjusted the peaky hat on my head and raised a brow. “Is there a problem, Roger?”
He shifted on his feet. “I’ve been the recruit for six months now, don’t you think I worked up being involved in one of these meetings?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to my snarky remark to myself but Folio was quick to respond in my place.
“Kid, calm down. It took Bryan six years to work up the ranks. Ash, it took him ten years.”
Roger gaped at the two of them who seemed to have played along with Folio’s joke and agreed with a nod.
“Can I atleast get a gun?” He outstretched his arms. “You guys are sending me into the warzone with no weapon!”
“It’s only a warzone if you make it one,” Ash said.
“No weapons for recruits,” I said.
Not wanting to waste any more time out here, I led the group of us up the crumbling steps and came to a stop in front of the door. Motioning to Roger, I waited for him to ring the bell, and glanced around the vast grounds of the McManus estate while stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my black peacoat.
“Nervous?”
Peering to my left, I nodded to Nicholas. “A bit.”
He clapped my shoulder. “Let’s keep our questions short. Try to get the info we need then we can leave.”
“Yeah,” Folio agreed while shivering. “This place gives me the creeps. It looks like it's days away from caving in.”
Glancing up at the old brick mansion, I had to agree with him. It looked as if neither of the McManus brothers bothered to keep up with the maintenance of the home and the overgrown grass on the other side of the driveway was proof of that.
Suddenly the front door opened with an eerie creaking and all of our eyes met with an older lady with a head full of white curls.
“Yes?”
I stepped forward. “My name is Noah Sebastian. OMNS has a meeting with the brothers.”
Her brown eyes shifted between all of us before she slowly stepped to the side, letting us all pile inside the grand manor. While the outside needed some work, the inside was marvelous with expensive pieces of art and not a speck of dust anywhere.
“My name is Dorthea. I will let the brothers know you’re here,” she said with a thick Irish accent.
Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention and when I gazed up at the top of the stairs landing, all of my breath left my soul when those familiar hazel eyes met mine. All of the hairs not only on the back of my neck but on my arms stood straight with the buzz of electricity that shot through me when I noticed her eyes double in size. The brightness of her gaze struck a chord in my heart, playing a soft melody that only the two of us could hear.
It had been a long while since I’d seen her last but fuck, she still looked absolutely breathtaking like she did the night of high school graduation.
Her hair was deeper red than the last time we saw each other, now it cascaded down her back, and when she outstretched her arms on the wooden banister, her head tilted to the side in a way to assess all of these strangers in her home.
Although four of us weren’t strangers to her. We all went to high school together even though she wouldn’t remember us. She was always with the group of kids that were rich, too good to be seen with the bottom dwellers like us.
I removed my hat to hand it to Roger to hold onto it then shook out my hair from my eyes before slicking it back and I could have sworn I heard someone’s breath catch in their throat.
“Noah Sebastian, standing here in my house. I must say, I almost didn’t recognize you without the long hair.”
Well, shit.
“Saoirse McManus,” I hummed in response to her sarcastic tone.
A low scowl pulled on her lips before she pushed herself away from the banister and quickly scurried down the hall, disappearing around the corner.
It was almost bittersweet seeing her again after all this time. While I wish it had been under better circumstances, I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to get wrapped up in Saoirse McManus; not again. I had built an empire since dropping out of high school and I couldn’t let anything tear it down, especially a silly little crush.
It never was a silly crush. It was always more than that. You’re just bitter that she never felt the same.
Why would she ever have feelings for me? In her eyes and her financial stature, OMNS were nobodies; the gum on the bottom of their shoe. While they ran their empire up in the rich estates of the wealthy, we ran ours in the slums of the Concrete Jungle. There may have been a point in my life when I wanted to be in the same stature as her but now having earned my wealth, I realized that all I needed was my brothers.
Bullshit.
If that were the case, seeing her tonight wouldn’t have taken my breath away and cock twitched with such a dire need for her.
“What was that about her not remembering you?” Jolly asked.
I ran a hand over my mouth. “I didn’t think she would.”
“Hey,” Roger’s head popped in between Jolly and I. “That’s the daughter, right? You know, rumors are going around the CJ that she’s the one that killed Vincent.”
My eyes sliced into him and Jolly had to press a hand to my chest to keep me from wrapping my hands around his throat.
“The CJ?” I spat out through a clenched jaw.
Roger swallowed thickly. “Yeah. The Concrete Jungle. I thought you would understand the nickname since you were the one who created the Concrete Jungle. I spend a lot of time in the tunnels with groups of guys who tell stories of OMNS success. Why do you think I wanted to join so badly?”
“Do me a favor, kid. Stop lingering in the underground parts of the jungle because you don’t know what dwells underneath there. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation you can’t sweet talk your way out of,” I said.
“What?” He let out an airy chuckle. “Are you hiding a tank full of sirens? Or creating your own artificial intelligence?”
With a dark look filling my eyes, I gave him a smirk before giving him my back when I heard the faint footsteps of Dorthea returning.
“Just the Japanese and Swiss,” she pointed to us.
Jolly let out a groan. “I’m Swedish.”
“Follow me,” she hooked a finger at us, ignoring Jolly.
Giving the rest of my brothers a nod, we followed Dorthea down a long wide hallway, and I took in the sight of all the pictures lining the wall, noticing that they were family pictures of the McManus family.
The first picture was of the man who started it all over one hundred years ago, Cillian McManus. It continued for a long while until Fergal’s familiar face caught my eyes, followed by his son, then Connor, then Murphy with his wife and Saiorse.
Coming to a brief stop, I studied the picture for a long moment, before Jolly pulled me along.
“The brothers are allowing you five minutes of their time,” Dorthea informed as we stopped in front of a set of double doors and her hands wrapped around the golden knobs.
“How generous,” I grumbled under my breath just before the door opened.
Inside was a huge library/office combo. Three out of four of the walls were just bookshelves full of books, the smell of old literature tickling my nose. Thick black carpet covered almost every inch of the floor and in the center of the room were two long burgundy couches that sat horizontally to an old fireplace that was blazing with hot flames. I felt the warmth on my face when Jolly and I stepped inside.
On either couch sat the brothers, both having a glass dangling from their fingers, and their hushed conversation seized when they noticed our presence.
“Ah,” the taller one with shorter hair muttered as he slowly stood to his feet and extended his free hand toward me. “You must be Noah. An acquaintance of mine said I’d be expecting you. I’m Conner.”
After we shook hands, Connor motioned to the other man on the couch, who still had yet to stand up. “That is my twin brother Murphy.”
Giving him a curt nod, I clasped my hands behind my back. “This is Joakim. We won’t take much of your time. But we do have one question to ask.”
While Murphy muttered something in Irish under his breath, Connor urged me to ask.
“About six months ago, a dear friend of ours Vincent Riquier was murdered, his body being left on the doorstep of my tattoo shop. I had some intel point me in the direction of someone in the Irish family.”
Connor's brow raised as he took a small drink of his amber liquid. “Are you saying we had something to do with it?”
Jolly shook his head. “Not at all. We were just wondering if you could let us know if our intel was correct since it came from one of your men.”
This caused Murphy to snap his head towards us and brushed away the long hair from his face; blue eyes boring into us. “One of our men?”
“Barry,” I said flatly. “Movie star looks. Although, I must say that was before.”
The twins shared a look before Murphy rose to his feet with a roar. “You killed him?”
I stood toe to toe with him, not showing him an ounce of fear because I knew guys like this could smell it.
“Never said I did,” I answered with a shrug.
“Imigh leat,” Murphy waved a hand in my face before turning on his feet to face the fireplace.
Connor let out a displeased noise at his brother before giving Jolly and me a tight smile, the lines in his face creasing. “You must ignore my brother, he just argued with his daughter before you arrived.”
Saoirse’s face crept into my mind but I did my best to push away those feelings. I couldn’t give away my feelings for her; the ones that stayed buried for so long.
“Again with this foolish dream of opening an animal rehab facility. Why she wants to work when she has all the money I can give her if she just stays here is beyond my thinking,” Murphy muttered after downing the rest of his drink, slamming the cup on the table next to the couch.
“About Barry,” Connor ignored his brother while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “If you did kill him, one less thing for us to worry about. He was a pain in our arses anyway.”
“So then, as a token, you’ll give us the direction we need to look into for our friend's death,” Jolly tried while scratching the facial hair on his chin.
With Connor’s silence, his gaze locked in on us with his hand on the holster on his hip, and Murphy’s back still to us, I nodded towards Jolly, who understood and we bid the brothers goodbye.
“Thank you for your time,” I said before ushering Jolly outside of the room before me.
Once we were back in the solitude of the hallway, we rushed back to the foyer with a burning feeling at the back of my neck. Something wasn’t right, their silence told us way too much and I needed to get far away from here.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Jolly noted.
I agreed with a low rumble in my chest, placing my hat back on. “I know. They were quick to dismiss us and I didn’t like how Connor reached for his gun.”
Hearing our footsteps echo loudly on the marble floor, Bryan glanced up from his phone with furrowed brows.
“That was quick.”
“We’ll discuss it in the car,” I said while ushering everyone outside quickly.
One by one we all piled out of the house and before I stepped through the threshold, I dared a glance back up to the stairs landing, hoping to catch sight of her but instead, I locked eyes with two large guards who had their guns in their grasp.
“Boss, this doesn't make sense,” Roger turned swiftly on his heels and blocked me.
“Roger, not now,” I said sternly. “Get to the car. Now.”
“All these rumors, they had to start somewhere,” he continued to ramble on.
I backhanded his chest and then threw a thumb over my shoulder to the men who were now descending the grand staircase. Finally, when Roger noticed them, he scrambled out the door, me swiftly following behind him.
All of us gathered around the SUV to discuss what our next plan of action would be. There were other Irish families I could talk with but they all had connections to the McManus brothers so they wouldn’t give me anything.
As I was chatting with Nicholas, Roger began pacing in front of the car, running a hand through his hair.
“What’s his problem?” Nicholas mumbled to me.
“He thinks the brothers are hiding something,” I informed him while shrugging. “I must admit, I feel the same. They were too closed off in there. And the way those guards were staring at me, I swore they were looking for a fight.”
“In retaliation for Barry?”
“Could be,” I ran a hand over my chin. “Or they don’t appreciate us showing up tonight. Either way, we need to get out of here.”
Everyone began loading into the SUV, besides Roger, who was still pacing.
“Roger, get in,” I demanded from behind the driver's door.
"They're a bunch of liars. all of them. I bet you that broad upstairs knows something.”
All I saw was read for a few moments before I realized that I had Roger pinned to the hood of the car by his throat, my tattooed fingers cutting off his oxygen. Strands of my hair fell into my eyes but I made no effort to let up my grip.
“Watch how you speak about her,” I spit out.
Roger’s eyes were white as he struggled to fight me, his nails digging into the skin of my wrist.
“Shit,” Ash muttered while scrambling out of the car to wrap his arms around my chest, trying to pull me away. “Let him go, Noah. You’re going to kill him.”
With an effortless grunt, I tossed Roger to the ground and did my best to fix my hair when Ash let me go as the front door of the manor opened; Saiorse walked out with the two guards following closely behind her.
She paid us no mind as she trotted down the steps and began walking the opposite way of us. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was 8 p.m.
“The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.” Barry’s words from earlier rang in my ears.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I grumbled while adjusting my jacket.
Roger quickly scrambled to his feet and when he finally noticed the two guards who had stopped walking to watch us with careful eyes, something switched in Roger’s mind. My jaw began to drop when I saw him reach for something underneath his shirt, my next words came out slow, almost inebriated.
“Roger, no!”
The sound of gunfire erupted, and all of us dropped to our knees around the car for some sort of protection. Bullets ricochet off of the car, one nearly missing my forehead as it blew the hat clear off my head. I strangled out a vacant cry while pressing my body closer to the car. My heart was beating widely in my chest and my hands shook but I didn’t have time to dwell on almost dying, I needed to stop this before it became worse than it already was.
“Mother fucker!”
Glancing over my shoulder, I cursed when I saw Folio go down to the ground clutching his thigh, his gun skidding halfway down the long driveway. I crawled over to him, keeping my head down when I noticed that a couple more McManus guards had emerged from inside and now we were outnumbered; seven to nine.
Blood oozed out from the wound on Folio’s thigh and I grabbed a handful of his shirt, ripping a large piece from it.
“You’re alright; just a flesh wound,” I reassured him while fixing the makeshift tourniquet.
“Where the hell did Roger find a gun?” Folio asked through clenched teeth when I squeezed too hard on his wound to stop the bleeding.
“I’m about to find out,” I patted his cheek before ripping my gun from behind my pants and clicked off the safety.
Using the open door of the SUV as a shield, I peered around it to see that four guards were lying dead on the ground, two were hiding behind the pillars of the manor for their own protection, and one was coming towards us.
Firing off two rounds, both hitting the mark of the guard's chest, I watched him crumble to the ground and then gave a sharp whistle towards Jolly who was firing his weapon in the car through the shot-out back windshield.
“Two on the porch!” I yelled over the sounds of gunfire.
Jolly nodded and I gave him protection against the other two guards who were firing their weapons from behind a bush, he snuck up to the two guards hiding on the porch, their lives ending before they even noticed him.
Now the numbers were in our favor so slowly rising to my feet, I stepped out from my shield and called out to the last two McManus guards.
“You’re not walking out of this alive!”
“Imeacht go fánach ort féin is ar do chnapán miúlach!” A deep voice rumbled out from behind the bus.
A flash of red caught my attention and I forgot for a moment that Saoirse was outside when the shootout began. I could hear my heart in my ears with worry if she’d been hit but when I saw her slowly rise to her feet due to one of the guards pushing her to farther safety, I breathed a little.
Until a gun went off to my left and with sharp eyes, I watched as the bullet hit Saoirse in the arm, blood splattering against the fading white paint of the house.
“Bitch! That’s for Vincent!” Roger bellowed his victory.
I let out a vicious growl as I tackled him to the ground, laying fist after fist into his face. Poor kid never saw me coming and gave no fight against me. By the time I finished, my knuckles were broken and raw, covered in not only my blood but his as well. Roger’s face was a mangled mess as he rolled over to his side, spitting out chunks of spit mixed with blood. For a final measure, I laid a swift kick to his stomach making sure he wouldn’t get up for a while. Through the white noise in my brain, I did my best to calm my breathing when I gazed over my shoulder to the carnage that lay in our wake; all thanks to Roger’s trigger finger.
Besides Folio, all of my men were unharmed and it seemed as if Folio would be fine. However, out of nine McManus guards, only two remain. One held something to Saoirse’s arm while the other tossed his gun to the ground, showing us he surrendered.
“Is she alright?” I called out to them.
“Fuck you, Noah!” She spat, eyes almost as red with fury as the color of her hair.
Yeah, she was fine.
Through the eerie silence of the night air, I watched as the front door carefully opened then both the McManus brothers stepped into the carnage.
“Saoirse!” Murphy’s voice boomed.
“She’s over here!” The one guard who was tending to her wound called out while pulling them out from behind the bushes.
I sucked in a breath when I saw all the blood staining the gray long sleeve of her sweater as the guard quickly whisked her inside, her father right on her tail. The look of pure hatred was on Connor’s face as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Whose bullet hit my niece?” He asked.
I pointed to the broken body of Roger, who was still struggling to rise to his feet. “I’ll take care of him, I promise you.”
Conner gave a curt nod before hooking his finger in my direction. “You. By yourself. Now.”
Licking my lips, I nodded and handed over my gun to Ash, who looked at me with bewilderment in his eyes.
“Are you insane?” He demanded. “You can’t go in there by yourself.”
“If they wanted me dead, I would be,” I said with more reassurance in my voice than I was feeling.
Giving a soft smile to the rest of my men, letting them know I’d be fine, I stepped back inside the manor with Conner close behind.
SCARLETT
“What the fuck!” I screamed while pushing myself away from the table, but hissing as pain shot through my arm.
The doctor we had on standby informed me that it was merely a flesh wound I suffered and closed it up with a few stitches and some pills for the pain.
“Watch your tongue,” my father warned while not looking away from his plate of food.
“You just told me that I’m supposed to marry Noah Sebastian! How the fuck can I watch my tongue?! This is absurd! You can’t make that decision for me.”
He pushed away his plate with a sigh and then steepled his fingers together. “I can because I am your father. And for the price of peace, I couldn’t deny his offer.”
I nearly fell back into my seat at the dining room table. “His offer? This was his idea?”
My Uncle Conner nodded. “That man is quite the negotiator. He didn’t want any more bloodshed and for a truce, he asked for your hand in marriage; we agreed on one condition.”
“Oh, I can't wait to hear what this condition was,” I placed my hand on my hip. “Does he want a baby in a year? Do I have to abide by his command? Am I to be locked away in a castle for the rest of my life?”
“Far from that,” my father lit his cigar, puffing the smoke into the air. “We agreed that you can marry him as long as he kill the man that shot you.”
My eyes widened. “The kid? Fucking hell, dad! He can’t be more than twenty years old!”
“Then he shouldn’t have been involved in a game that was designed for men!” My father’s fist slammed on the aged oak of the table.
I didn’t even flinch, being so used to his outbursts like this. Instead, I fought back harder against this offer.
“What about Cory?” I questioned.
“Who?” My father’s thick brows furrowed as the age lines in his forehead creased.
“The boyfriend,” my uncle informed him while swirling the ice cubes around in his cup.
My father did a double take. “How the fuck do you know?”
“Fuck you, I know shit,” he shrugged.
“Very well,” my father sighed. “It’s not like this relationship would have worked out anyway. You will end it and move in with Noah by Friday.”
“FRIDAY?!” I screeched. “That’s in two days!”
“The wedding will be at the end of the month,” my uncle informed me.
Too much information had been thrown at me all at once and I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep myself from crying. I typically wasn’t a crier but from the moment I laid my eyes on Noah Sebastian in the foyer of my home, all of my old feelings came rushing in like a tidal wave and I still didn’t have time to process that.
“If I say no to this deal?” I shot back.
Neither my uncle nor father said anything, simply motioned to the guns that lay next to their plates. Now, I knew they didn’t mean they would kill me. Instead, they would kill Noah and every last mother fucker who had anything to do with tonight.
“This is unbelievable!” I yelled while throwing my hands up and storming my way up the stairs to my bedroom.
The sound of my door slamming shook the old bones of the manor and I yanked the ends of my hair with a scream. I despised not only this life but also the fact that I couldn’t do anything about this arrangement. Not when the lives of innocents were on the line.
Innocents? They shot you!
Shaking the thought from my mind, I fell back onto my bed with a groan. It was easy to tell that the kid was the one that started the unnecessary gunfight. Noah was only doing what he could to protect his people.
Those gorgeous almond eyes haunted me for years, plaguing my entire existence since I first saw them freshman year of high school. I never could do anything about it, however, knowing that we ran in different circles and it was forbidden. His family ran the slums while mine ran the prestige wealth.
The last I saw of Noah or any of those guys was the night of high school graduation. While Noah dropped out three months before, the rest of his friends walked across the stage and he was there for support. Our eyes locked across the vast space of the room. His hair was long but pulled back into a high bun, showcasing the sharpness of his cheekbones as he gave me a gentle smile. Of course, I had to ignore the pull of my heart strings, no matter how strong they were.
If someone had told a teenage me that now, eight years later, I’d be marrying that man who captured my heart so long ago, I’d laugh in their face.
Running a hand over my face, I sat up in bed and quickly dialed Cory’s number so I could deliver the news. On the eighth ring, he answered almost breathlessly.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” I played with the ends of my hair. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
There was some rustling on his end before his breath came through. “I suppose.”
Ignoring the tone, I took a deep inhale to prepare myself for breaking the news to him. “There’s no easy way to say this. But my father just informed me that he arranged a marriage for me. I have to move in with the guy on Friday. I tried to fight it, tried to fight for us, but I didn’t have a choice. It’s something I have to do.”
There was a very long beat of silence on Cory’s end before his voice broke through. “Ok. Thanks for letting me know.”
My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach. “W-what? That’s it?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Scarlett? You said it yourself, you don’t have a choice in this. Why fight for something that has no end in sight?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to not snap at him but eventually failed.
“You know, you’re right. What’s the fucking point,” I seethed.
Before I could hang up on him, I heard the click and stared down in disbelief at my now black screen.
“What a piece of shit!” I bellowed while tossing my phone onto my bed.
My knee bounced in anger, that conversation adding more fuel to the fire, and as much as I wanted to scream out my frustrations I knew that it would be futile. Instead, I dragged my feet into the large walk-in closet and began packing up things that I knew I would need in my new life.
NOAH
Wiping away the blood from my rings, I stepped into the lobby of the quiet tattoo shop and noticed Nicholas closing up his section.
“How’d it go tonight?” I wondered after tossing the rag into the bag he had opened.
The one we planned on burning anyway so any evidence would be gone in the flames.
“Slow night but those aren’t bad every once in a while,” he answered before motioning to the door I previously walked through. “All finished?”
“Yeah, Jolly and Folio are cleaning it up. This one was messier than I would have liked. I’ll admit, the kid put up a hell of a fight,” I said while leaning against the wall with crossed arms.
The tattooed muscles in my forearms flexed.
“Did he say where he found the gun?”
“Bought it off of someone on the street before we left that night. Apparently, he had a feeling I wouldn’t allow him to have one and he felt like he needed protection,” I informed Nicholas.
Who, in turn, snorted while packing up his tattoo gun. “A lot of good it did.”
My lips parted to speak but with the sound of the bell dinging above the door, revealing that someone had stepped inside.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” the words died in my throat when I saw who walked inside.
Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her green eyes standing out amongst everything else about her. She carried two suitcases behind her and one large duffel bag on her shoulder.
“Hi,” I said while standing straight up.
All of the breath inside of me left me with a whoosh of air as the excitement of our arrangement finally filled me. When I first brought up the idea to the McManus brothers, I fully expected them to deny it. Much to my surprise, they agreed almost immediately with the exception that I take care of Roger, as promised.
Not even an hour after sending the picture to Murphy, his daughter was standing in front of me; bags in tow.
“Hi?” Saoirse scowled. “Do you know what the fuck I had to go through to get here? The number of times I had to circle the building to find somewhere to park? Two blocks away. Not to mention, how many homeless people stopped me along the way to ask for either money or drugs? And all you can say is hi?”
Biting my lip at my smile, I walked over to the receptionist's desk to rest my elbows on it.
“Are you finished?” I teased with a playful gleam in my eyes.
She scoffed, appalled. “Am I finished? No, Noah. Far fucking from it. How dare you bid for my life without my consent? This isn’t the 1900’s where this was a common thing! I have a say in who I should marry!”
“Then why are you here?”
Saoirse pursed her lips and when I realized she had nothing to say back, I pushed off the counter to close the distance between us, my height towering over her.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t pay for you. I don’t plan on holding you prisoner here. You have a say with anything and everything however to keep the peace from stumbling into my empire, if I had to arrange for your life, you bet your fucking ass I would do.”
Her lips mimicked a fish and when her shoulders slumped in defeat, I held out my hand to her. “Keys.”
“Excuse me?” She raised a brow.
“Give me your keys. OMNS Legacy Villas has underground parking. There’s already a reserved spot for you,” I informed her.
Shoving the keys in my hand, she sliced her eyes into me. “If it says Saoirse, change it.”
I quickly tossed the keys to Nicholas, who understood and slipped out of the shop to retrieve her car.
“Change it?” I repeated her words.
“The only people who call me that are my father and uncle. Everyone else calls me Scarlett,” she tossed her bags on the ground at my feet before crossing her arms over her black sweater.
This sass that fell from her blood-stained lips made me want to toss her onto the counter, rip off that sweater, and attack every inch of her skin with my teeth but I refrained. Instead, I brushed a hand through my hair and smiled.
“Scarlett it is.”
Scarlett glanced out the large window in front of the shop, watching as people walked past, every single one of them dealing with something in their own lives. The trash that littered the street was figuratively and literally. I had to admit that when I first opened up my empire here, the slums were extremely bad but with my help and funding, the streets had been cleaned up immensely; with a few stranglers still lurking around.
Especially in the underground.
“I don’t understand how you live here. The homeless, the drug deals, and the illegal activities I saw walking in here. It’s disgusting,” she shivered.
I stood next to her now, stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my pants. “Welcome to the Concrete Jungle, Scarlett.”
She turned her head up to me as I bent low towards her, my warm breath fanning those beautiful lips. “Where I’m the fucking king.”
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Damned Man's Dawn
The night is frigid, the sand cold like metal, I finally got the guts to pick myself up and wander away from Goodsprings, into the desert, I picked a random direction and walked.
That was a stupid idea… But ever since I woke up I've been having a lot of stupid ideas… my brain feels like it's buried beneath a thick oppressive fog of white noise. Trying to think feels like sand paper is rubbing between my neurons, my thoughts and memories now lay shattered and splattered in a dried bloody spray back at that cemetery I was dug up from.
I don't know who or what I am… The title of courier doesn't feel right… I feel like I'm someone or something else… If not just a ghost… A shell of who I once was…
And my name… I'm not even sure if it's mine, it's just the first thing that popped into my head…
Luca.
Maybe I thought I'd find answers in the desert, but all I found was some over turned train car and a lone green plastic dinosaur.
I crouch down and pick up the dinosaur curiously, examining it before setting it back down and turning to head back to Goodsprings, a sudden tingling down my spine stops me dead in my tracks followed by a overwhelming dizzy spell and a stabbing pain roaring through every nerve in my body, I fall forward, my body convulsing.
§§§
The sand feels cold…
Hollow winds howling…
It rattles and whispers…
Hounds baying in the hunt…
I feel numb…
Hues of heat painted into the sky…
I lost their echos, their imprints…
Hope waning, hunger waxing…
I have no reflection…
Had I ever a home…?
★★★
A voice rouses me. Are you okay?
I snap my eyes open, staring ahead statically at the plastic green dinosaur, I glance around for the source of the voice.
The voice speaks once more. Oh, can you… Hear me? The voice… It's coming from the plastic dinosaur.
My eyes widen, I stare at the green therapod laying two feet from me in the dust, staring back at me. Slowly, I start to regain my senses and with it the cruel frigid cold of the twilight desert, I smelled blood. I narrow my eyes at the figure, the doubt over if I really did hear a voice settling in.
The voice of the dinosaur interrupts my thoughts. You can hear me, right? Look, if you can, you should really get up, you shouldn't lie here. I stare flatly at the figure, my heart pounding, it continued.
It's cold, it's dark and you're bleeding from your nose. You're going to attract something if you keep laying here like you're dead.
I recover enough from my stupor to respond. "What are you?"
I don't know, I haven't seen my reflection yet. What am I?
"A- A green plastic dinosaur… But… What are you?"
Well, I guess I'm a soul possessing a green plastic dinosaur.
"Oh… L-Like a ghost?"
Sort of... What's your name?
I blink, a cold breeze blowing over the hills causing me to shiver and curl into myself, my muscles tingling painfully. "L-Luca…"
Luca, you need to get up. It's not safe out here…
My throat feels dry, my limbs numb. "I… I can't… My limbs… C-Can't move…"
Luca, you have to try.
I sigh, shivering and coughing dryly. "I-I'm… Cold…"
I know, you should really get up.
"I…I don't think I can…"
Luca, you'll die if you don't get up. You have to get up or you'll freeze to death…
I squeeze my eyes shut, a couple crickets chirped in the grass and a lone coyote howled into the night. I grit my teeth and push myself up with my arms, my muscles tensing painfully, my nerves searing with pain. I gasp sharply, nearly collapsing back into the dust, my body feeling heavy and fatigued, the urge to give in and fall into a deep sleep overwhelming.
That's it's Luca! C'mon! That's it! Keep going!
I manage to move myself into a sitting position and pause to rest, looking towards the dinosaur, panting and shivering.
Scribbled above the figure is some graffiti, worn and faded though still legible: Mr. Cleems.
I look back down towards the dinosaur. "Is that your name?"
Huh?
"The graffiti above you."
What does it say?
"Mr. Cleems. Is it your name?"
The dinosaur is silent for a moment, as if considering something before replying. Yeah. There's a beat of silence before I resume my struggle.
With some minor difficulty I stagger to my feet, my muscles and tendons throbbing and clenching, trembling violently, I glance at the dinosaur.
"Mr. Cleems…"
Yeah?
I debate how to ask this for a few moments before resolving to simply rip the band-aid off. "Can I take you with me?"
Sure, you look like you need a guardian angel.
I smile and with a fatigued voice I cry. "Yippee." I reach over, picking up Mr. Cleems, looking at him with a newfound happiness, I turn to look towards the direction I came from, the faint glow of Goodsprings visible.
★★★
I nearly collapsed back into the dirt on the way back to Goodsprings, just managing to stagger through the door of the Prospector Saloon before my knees buckled.
The saloon was empty, save for Trudy who paused in her cleaning of the bar to investigate the distinct noise of a body hitting the floor. She rounded the corner her eyes widening the moment they locked onto my quivering form.
"Luca! My god, are you okay?" She said, rushing to my side.
Through chattering teeth I speak. "F-Fine… I'm fine…"
Trudy slung my arm around her neck and hoisted me up. "You're freezing! Did you walk out into the desert?"
I nod as she walks me over to a table and sits me down into the booth.
"What were you thinking?!" She sighs and walks to the bar. "Stay right there, I'll get you something warm to drink."
"Otay." I pull Mr. Cleems out of my pocket, examining him. The sudden urge to put him in my mouth strikes me and before I can stop myself I'm biting down on his plastic head.
The hell?! Luca! What are you doing?! Stop!
Trudy placed a mug of coffee in front of me, noticing Mr. Cleems in my mouth her face softened further.
"Are you hungry? Here, lemme get you something."
Before I could protest she was already gone, I remove Mr. Cleems from my mouth and took a sip of the coffee, letting out a strangled cry as my tongue burns.
"Careful, it's hot!" Trudy calls from somewhere within the bar.
The hell did you put me in your mouth for?
I shrug, resting my chin in my hand as I idly trace the stripes on Mr. Cleems, the soft murmuring of the jukebox in the next room over catching my attention when a familiar voice reaches my ears.
I strain my ears to listen…
"Little word has been heard from Nipton, leading to traders thinking the isolated town may be in trouble, in other news, Black Mountain radio…"
Trudy returned with a plate of iguana on a stick. "Here, eat up." I rummage through my pockets for some caps, she stops me. "It's on the house."
"But-"
Trudy raises a hand, cutting me off. "It's the least I can do after you fought off the Powder Gangers with us." With that, she returned to tending the bar, I eat in relative silence, till it's broken when I speak up.
"Hey Trudy, where can I find Nipton?"
★★★
Oh… Gods…
I stand frozen in place, my heart hammering against my chest as the smell of smoke and smoldering flesh and tires fills my lungs. I gag, stumbling back, squeezing Mr. Cleems close to my chest.
A lone flag among a blaze of branches and broken bodies flares angrily in the wind, emblazoned with the image of a yellow bull, I shudder, feeling my stomach drop upon gazing at it, I look back upon the main road, forcing myself to overcome my fawning and move my feet.
WITNESS WITNESS WITNESS
I jolt, flinching violently, the loud booming voice causing my heart to jump into my throat, quickly realizing it came from my Pip-Boy. I stare at it, holding it away from my body in fear, still in a startled state of mind as I tentatively reach a hand over to examine it when movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention, I lift my head and lock eyes with a man wearing a fox pelt. My blood runs cold, a shiver crawling down my spine.
I feel an intense pit of fear resurface within me, swimming within the very bottom of it's depths…
WITNESS WITNESS WITNESS
Rage.
★★★
The sun, blazing on as it set, bathed the sands in shades of rose and red as I left Nipton in a stupor of fear, shock and deep subtle rage, roiling beneath the surface like a mad serpent among reeds.
The words of the fox hooded man echo in the back of my mind, his voice driving me in circles as I feel recollection tugging from beyond the shattered remnants of my mind, yet a deep part of me recoiled at the fruitless attempts to piece together a memory. I feel angry at myself for letting them walk away, though I know full well that trying to fight would have been another stupid, and fatal, idea.
Cresting a hill I pause to survey my surroundings, spotting the sight of sore wounds and split skins, among the colours of dawn, the blood red crimson of the Legion…
Several soldiers sat huddled around a fire. I feel my breath hasten, my heart leaping when I pick up on my presence going unperceived, I drop down into a crouch… Drawing a weapon… My heart hammering in tune with the hammer of my gun as I open fire.
The shock on their faces is sweet, though it's quickly spoiled when their expressions change to fury, they raise their weapons and fire, I feel the bullets ripping into me, the blood pouring out, the pain screaming throughout my nervous system, pleading me to lay down my weapon and run, but I push it away and pursue this rage roiling within, deep down beneath layers and layers of deeply set fear and sadness, like a sea of echos who's origins are lost, the serpent below breaking free, hissing with a newfound venom.
I feel death breathing down my neck, it's a familiar feeling, how she danced with me the night I lost everything.
And I'll keep dancing, I'm not too good at it but I'll learn how to be better so I can be the best damn dancer for death. I'll waltz with broken bones, through burning buildings and into blossoming battlefields, bound to her like atoms in the center of a star.
I stand among the carnage, looking at my now bent and stained machete and back at the corpses around me, the full weight of what I've done hits me like a truck, I feel a sickness in my stomach, though it's only brief as I remember the faction of monsters these people came from, I turn away, averting my eyes, a wave of exhaustion seeping into me, my clothes soaked with blood, my body sore and wounded, I stumble away from the gruesome scene to find a place to rest my weary body.
§§§
Foxes, Dogs, Wolves and Coyotes.
Fleeting is the Fox though he is the first, oh what future does he bring with his false face?
Foxes, Dogs, Wolves and Coyotes.
Dangerous is the dog, how they dig through the dust and drag you into the dark. diving, drowning, dancing…
Foxes, Dogs, Wolves and Coyotes.
Wailing and wise is the Wolf who learns, their will is strong but wary of wit from the west.
Foxes, Dogs, Wolves and Coyotes.
Coy you are, Coy You'll be, careful and calculating, come crimson and crows, clean and cold you'll be in clearing and cutting.
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