CH 1: Sibling Rivarlry

Warning: offensive language reflective of the time and culture.

- o -

The door to the bedroom was locked. The occupants within did not want to be interrupted by anything, or anyone.

The room was spacious. And the surrounding air was stuffy. It smelled of potpourris, and raw sex. It was both pleasurable and maddening; a perfect balance of both worlds.

Jane wasn't in the mood to talk. In one rough tug, Jane tore away her silk robe, and cast the menacing garment aside. Though the thought of sex clouded her mind, Jane couldn't resist as she took a moment to marvel at the beauty beneath her.

Katherine Petrova Pierce was a petite woman with a small face, and soft features. Her long chestnut hair ran well past her shoulders. And her lips, though not full nor luscious, could tame even the wildest of stallions with one kiss. But Katherine's beauty ran well past her physical features. She was brilliant. And had one of the sharpest tongues in town; and she dared speak her mind, unlike other timid women of their time. Jane couldn't bring herself to think of another, much less crave another soul. She was infatuated with Katherine, and downright smitten.

The night was still young.

And Jane wanted Katherine, and she wanted her, now.

Katherine laid on her back, and she withered in delight while Jane's face made a home for itself in her bosoms. Every now and then, Jane could lick, nibble, and even bite at her perky nipples. Katherine loved it when Jane hurt her; the painful stimulation pushed her to new heights. This was a dangerous liaison, for both of them. Katherine was standing in gas, and Jane was the flame that threatened to consume them both.

The appetizer was over, and the main course was up.

With her middle and ring finger, Jane parted flesh from desire, and she entered her with ease. She was met with no resistance. Every stroke and thrust, Jane gave it her all; she arched her back every time she withdrew, and she rammed her hips into Katherine's every time she penetrated. Jane's movements were slow and deliberate, and danced to the tune of their bodies.

The heavy layer of juice that currently covered Jane's digits was an indication of just how hyped and ready Katherine was. Though Jane was wet, and ached oh so painfully, this was about satisfaction, and the desire to touch another. Jane placed Katherine's needs above her own, and it made her all the more wetter.

The bed frame rocked with purpose, and the body danced with desire.

Katherine had her legs wrapped around Jane's torso snuggly, as her delicate core took a most-welcomed pounding. And that's when she grabbed a lock of Jane's raven hair, and she tugged on them savagely; a low growl whispered in the passing.

This wasn't their first time together. Jane could tell Katherine was close; all she needed was that extra nudge to send her off the cliff, and into the blissful abyss.

Jane added an index finger, and she brought them to curl upwards. This wasn't her first rodeo, and Katherine wasn't her first lover. She knew exactly what she was doing. And when she felt Katherine noticeably tighten around her digits, that's when Jane brought her teeth down, and she chomped on her shoulder. The bite was hard. It wasn't a playful bite. Short of drawing blood, the dentures made a lasting mark.

"Oh. Jesus!"

The sudden jolt of pain, mixed with the coarse wave of pleasure, it was unimaginable, and it sent Katherine into a state of euphoric pleasure. She contracted her vaginal walls to press tight against wild fingers; she squeezed out every last ripple. And every time she squeezed, a sensual grunt would escape her dark lips.

Jane brushed a strand of stray hair from Katherine's face, and she kissed her, ever so tenderly, again and again. "I've missed you."

"As have I."

Jane was still inside of her; Katherine pulled their bodies in, and she rolled them over to change positions. It was Katherine that now straddled Jane.

"Where did you learn that?"

"I'll tell you…" Katherine began grinding her hips against stilled fingers. "…only if you make me."

Jane shot up, and captured Katherine's lips in a desperate kiss.

But their session was rudely interrupted by several loud knocks. "Jane!"

Jane recognized the voice. It belonged to none other than Barold Frost. "Go away, Barry."

"We have to go, now!"

Katherine asked, "Are you sure you don't have to get that?"

"I'm sure." Jane cupped Katherine's breast, and she tasted the salty flesh. "I'm definitely sure."

There came several more knocks, "They have him, Jane! They grabbed Giovanni!"

That was the last thing Jane wanted to hear. She threw her head back, and sighed. "I have to go."

Katherine rolled aside, and she covered her shame with the blanket. "What is it?"

"It's nothing you should concern yourself with, darling." Jane threw on her pants, followed by her button up shirt. "You shouldn't wait up. I don't know how long I'll take."

Katherine pulled the blanket with her. She then pushed a fully clothed Jane against the door, unzipped her pants, and she gently grazed the outskirts of her cunt.

Jane swallowed a moan.

Arousal doesn't lie. With full eye contact the entire time, Katherine brought her fingers to her mouth, and she licked them clean.

"Be back soon."

Jane threw the door open, and left before she regretted her decision.

Barry was on the other side, alert and wide awake. "I found Giovanni first, but they grabbed him from me. There's no telling if they've already beaten us to it."

Jane's mood had soured. And the night started with such potential, too.

Things were about to go belly up.

- o -

Night had long fallen, yet the town was still roaring with life. But not this particular parlor. No. This drinking hole had closed its doors to the public. Three bodies occupied the space, though only two were there by choice.

Gilberti Giovanni found himself tie tighter than a wild boar. The stains on his face were marked with sweat, blood, and tears, though that was the least of his worries.

Frankie brought his right hand up, and he delivered yet another hard right.

"Aw, fuck!"

"Where is he?!" Frankie gripped Gilberti by his cheeks, "Where?!"

"I told ya! I ain't got no idea where he is. And that's the truth!"

"Nobody steals from the Rizzolis, you hear me?!" Frankie slapped Gilberti, again and again, and again. "So you either give your mate up, and spare yourself the pain and misery, or you can join him in Hell. It doesn't matter to me. Because I will find him. And he will pay."

"What —"

The locked door splintered against the frame as it was kicked in with unadulterated force.

All eyes were drawn to the unexpected intrusion. And the sight was most unwelcomed.

"Get out, Jane." Frankie growled, "This doesn't concern —"

Jane caught Frankie with a sucker punch that sent him tumbling backwards, and over a table.

Tommy immediately rushed to his brother's aid, but was stopped in mid-stride.

"Stay out of this, Thomas." Jane warned, "This is between Franklin and I."

Tommy threw his brother a helpless look, before he retreated to the sidelines and did as he was told. Barry kept him company, but also as added reassurance.

"You cunt!" Frankie picked himself up, and he charged at Jane. "I will ruin you!"

Jane and Frankie stood toe to toe, their faces barely inches away as they stared each other down. Frankie pumped his chest; his hands balled into tight fists. Jane was tall, even for a girl; and often times, she even towered over the men. It afforded her the luxury to stand eye-level with her brother dearest. And unlike Frankie, Jane remained indifferent; unaffected by his provocations.

Frankie wanted to beat her face in, and he almost did, too, if not for the fact that Jane scared her, through and through. Jane Clementine Rizzoli was a woman to be feared, and for good reasons, too. He, of all people, knew what she was truly capable of. It was not in his best interest to poke the hornet's nest.

The stare down didn't last much longer. Frankie did the right thing, and he backed down.

Jane walked past Frankie, and when she did, she purposely rammed her shoulder against his.

Unlike Frankie, at the sight of Jane Rizzoli, Gilberti trembled with fear.

Not a word. Jane grabbed Gilberti by the neck of his shirt, and she slammed him, face first, onto the table.

"I'm really not in the mood to dick about. So I'm only going to ask you once: where is he?"

"I…is…not…" Gilberti stuttered. "I just…let me think."

Jane pulled a knife from her waistband, and she cut the ropes loose.

Then without warning, Jane jabbed the blade through Gilberti's back hand. The knife pierced the flesh with ease, and it kept the limb pinned against the tabletop. "Wrong answer."

Gilberti screamed at the top of his lungs.

Jane held her hand up, and she caught a second knife that was tossed over by Barry. She took Gilberti's right hand, and she laid the limb flat against the surface.

Jane asked calmly, "Where is he?"

Gilberti answered with yet another freakish scream.

"Wrong, again."

Jane hacked the pinky finger off with one clean swipe.

Frankie and Barry were unaffected by the violence. But Tommy, on the other hand, his hands were clasped tight over his mouth as he did his best to suppress his disgust.

"Where is he?!"

Gilberti threw up a pint of ale he had earlier, in lieu of actual words.

"Wrong, again!"

Jane pinched the hand, and loped off his ring finger.

"Where is he?!"

"Old Meeting House. Federal Street." Gilberti gagged several more times as the acid burned his esophagus, "Room #31."

Jane retracted the blade from his left hand, and she kicked Gilberti to the floor. "Get out of here."

Gilberti did not need to be told twice. He scrambled onto his feet, and he bolted out the door for dear life.

"You go, Tommy. And remember, bring him back, alive."

Tommy, weary about taking sides, relented as did as he was told. "I will, Janie."

Jane wasn't done here, not yet. "I will give you fair warning, Franklin: never, and I mean never, do that again. Barold found Gilberti first, and that makes him his."

"The day I take orders from a filthy nigger is the day pigs fly." Frankie spat at the foot of Barry's shoes, "Just because you dress a monkey up, don't make him any less of a monkey."

Jane shoved Frankie across the room, and pressed him up against the wall with the sharp edge of an even blade. "You will not speak about Barold like that, nor will you use that language in my presence, you hear me?"

"Don't do it, Jane." Barry heeded, "He's not worth it."

Frankie's nostrils flared, though he uttered not a single word.

"Do not give me a reason to bring harm upon you, brother, for I will." Jane said through gritted teeth, "Learn your place and show some respect, lest you forget that I am the eldest."

"You're delusional, Janie. This is a man's world."

"We both know you don't need a pair of bullocks to be a real man."

Barry lowered Jane's arm, and with it, the dangerous blade. "Let's go, Jane."

The defiant look Frankie had in his eyes were reflective of Jane's own personality; they were truly related by blood, whether they liked it or not.

The cool night air of fall in Boston chilled Jane to the bone. This had taken longer than she expected, and left her bloodied and upset. She was in dire need of relief. And she had just the woman for that.

"Good night, Barold." Jane parted ways, "And this time, don't come looking for me."

- o -

A/N: "Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."