A/N: Rob Lucci isn't nice in this fic, but I feel some sympathy for him because of his reasons…I actually felt sorry for most of my villains in this series, haha (hugs them carefully) SO! With that, that's the first warning. As always with a Western, people die. Violently. Sometimes from falling off a train. This is not a White Rabbit or Stylo type of fic – it's a lot more angsty and full of traumatic situations.

Thanks to all of those that read this series, and continue to stick with it!

Part One

Coming up the walkway of the large, dusty porch, the man in black made a couple of ladies nervous as they shifted away from the window seats, and made themselves scarce. The bouncer sitting in front looked up from picking his teeth, the toothpick held delicately between his fingers as he turned his head to watch the man approach. He was expecting Rob Lucci to arrive later that evening, not in the dead of the afternoon, when most of the girls inside were taking advantage of the slow hours to rest. He suspected the madam, Ivankov, to be upset about the change of schedule. The old woman hated change just as much as she hated Rob Lucci.

The house was their sanctuary after spending the evening hours entertaining the local Marines and government officials throughout the compound. That building was located in the back, accessible by a side alley entrance, and served as a place to sing, drink and be merry. The girls entertained there, and some entertained privately in the house itself.

"You came in a little earlier than expected," Blueno said, deep voice rumbling beneath the sounds of horses pulling wagons on the streets, over the complaining sounds of cattle being hustled through the narrow corridor between buildings nearby. "Madame wasn't expecting you this soon."

"It doesn't matter. I'm here, now. And, yes, the trip back east was lovely, thanks. We found who we were looking for."

Rising to his feet, standing near seven feet tall, the bouncer known as Blueno wasn't anybody to ignore. His dark skin was slightly dusty from sitting out on the porch, watching the world go by on the busy streets. The cold air of incoming winter made it important for all those walking outside to wear jackets, and the clouds overhead meandered thickly over the blue of the sky, promising uncomfortable cold. There was already frost on the windows in the morning, and the girls were already complaining about the lack of heat in the front room.

"Any word?" Blueno asked curiously, walking with Lucci to the front door, where the girls quickly made themselves scarce, save for the ones that were already entertaining a couple of cowboys in the nearby dining room. The house was nice and homey upon entrance – everything was clean. It looked as if one were walking into a private residence, and there were smells of apple pies coming from the kitchen, and the scent of cedar from the nearby office, where Madam Ivankov ruled the house with an iron fist.

"We should be moving out within the next few days," Lucci told him, removing his jacket. The animal fur lining the lapels, the collar, was soft and silky as Blueno took it. It smelled of fine cigars and dust from the wagon ride in, and he went to put it away as Lucci loosened the cuffs of his sleeves, causing the girls near the living room to look around nervously. The leather gloves he wore were removed, and Blueno took those, too, seeing that the women were looking anxious. "You'll be given notice soon enough. I hope she's found your replacement…?"

"She's prepared. Not happy, but prepared," Blueno assured him. "I'm not looking forward to the winter weather. I have a feeling this winter will be a bitch, this year. It was much too hot this summer."

"The northwest will be an entirely different environment than this one," Lucci assured him. "Is there a girl ready for me? I'd rather not see Sicily again."

"Ivankov would like to see you beforehand, to negotiate payment. She was unhappy with the treatment of Sicily the last time you visited."

With a roll of his eyes, Lucci wandered off to the office while Blueno took the stairs with his slow amble, the girls in the front room breathing sighs of relief. Inside the office, the elderly woman with a cigarette holder in between two fingers looked up from her books, setting her abacus down.

"You're back. Too soon," she muttered, tapping ashes into an abalone shell. Her office was all sparkling beads, butterfly curtains with watercolor designs; cedar burned at the corner of her desk. The multi-colored rugs on the hard wood floor were bright and mismatched; silk robes, silk gowns and various wigs of multi-colors were hanging from the walls, as if taken from the scalp of different races. Lucci wondered if they were, considering the location of Aeneus in one of the most hostile regions of the west. The territory was not yet 'tamed'.

"Sicily never recovered after you. I don't know why men like you are allowed to places like these, when there are perfectly acceptable hostiles in the territory you could be taking advantage of."

Lucci bristled slightly, tightening his jaw. This woman forgot his bloodlines – or knew, and said it anyway. Sicily must have not mentioned to Ivankov what he'd said to cause Lucci such a fit the last time he was here.

"She took her life, you know."

"There's more to replace her. Tell me – was she buried a woman? Or a man?"

"You'll take care with your words, here. Two spirits are rare in these parts. Too afraid to reveal themselves after all the horrors put on them once they're exposed. I'm going to suggest you Candy…you'll like her. I suspect she was a former worker. Gimpy and useless in the show hall, but she's good with private entertainment. I raised my prices, recently, and here is the newest contract I made right after I buried poor Sicily."

Lucci took the paper with a frown, examining the delicately printed policies Ivankov had written up. After, he set it back onto the table. "These are different from the ones you had with Sicily."

"Like I said, Candy is more experienced. She can take a little roughage. Very professional."

"Good. I'm glad you're upfront with my needs."

"Having this lease with the government has me speaking more than I should, but I run an honest business. Now, sign it, and payment up front, please."

"There's an extra zero, here."

"You drove my poor Sicily to an early grave. And I heard you were promoted. It should be no big deal."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"You'll be back," Ivankov said, fluffing her hair with long nails. "I've prepared the girls for your visit, today, so Candy's aware of your tastes. As always, there is no penetration in this house, you filthy pig."

"She will see you, now," Blueno said from the doorway as Lucci tossed Ivankov her payment. Once she counted it to her satisfaction, she waved him off, returning to her books. Blueno gestured at the stairway.

"I'm just saying, maybe if we're closer to the coast, it won't snow so badly over there, than it does over here," Blueno said, leading the way. "I've always wanted to see the unexplored territories closer to the north. Good hunting."

"Great hunting," Lucci agreed.

Blueno indicated an open doorway, then said, "Sicily was a nice girl. It was a shame to bury her."

"So she was buried a woman."

"Be nice." With that, Blueno went back downstairs, hands in his pockets. Lucci frowned after him, then walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. The room was neatly kept, smelled like patchouli – the windows were covered with dark red material, and there was a single cactus kept in a shiny pot atop of the white dresser nearby. The floor was bare, but gleamed with care – oiled and stained a nice shade of brown. There was a full size mirror facing the bed, and there was another one positioned on the wall at the head of the mattress, which was unexpected, considering how most of the girls were self-conscious of seeing themselves servicing customers throughout their work periods. What also stood out was that every piece of furniture in the room was pushed out from the wall, at least a few inches. The bed wasn't set against any wall, but allowed room for one to walk around it. The dresser was nearly covering up the window with its position in front of it. The ottoman was in the center of the room, and the couch was pushed at least five inches from the corner, giving ample walking around it.

The clothes hanging nearby were a mixture of gowns and an assortment of women's shoes, sloppily stuffed into the open closet. There were bottles of liquor and alcohol atop of the dresser, as well as a tray of glass cups. Being the biggest room, there was already a full tub near the windows, with a towel hung over the edge. It smelled like pine cones and salt, almost like being out in the woods on a rainy day. When he looked at Candy, he was definitely intrigued, because Candy looked at him with what he'd demanded from Sicily the last time. Bashful obedience.

The shortened strands around her face showed off a sharp jawline, a thin, straight nose, overly colored eyebrows that showed off the deep set of her blue-grey eyes. Pink, curled lips that were shiny with something extra. Sweet – not flashy. She brushed smooth blond hair from her shoulders – which were broad, muscles sinewy and graceful – and kept her eyes lowered in such a way that she was looking in his direction, just not making direct eye contact with him. She was dressed in a pink gown, with ruffles at the hem, the dress looking more like a girl's nightgown than woman's daywear. The animal fur shawl that had covered her shoulders was set aside, and when she walked to him, he noticed a limp, suggesting injury of her left leg.

"Let's make you comfortable. How would you like to be entertained?" she asked, a little too snarkily as her eyes ran over him, from head to toe before giving him an unimpressed frown.

"For one, I'm wearing too much."

Her painted pink lips curled briefly before she set them.

"As for my entertainment, I want to…cuddle."

She reached up and removed his hat, setting it aside on the coat and hat rack nearby, then gently brushed his hair from his shoulders, touching his neck. She had no fear or demands to her features, no sultry promises – just a flick of her eyes as she went to unravel his ribbon tie, to unbutton the pearl pieces of his shirt and vest. He leaned in to smell her, approving of the scent of powder and flesh. When he touched her hair, it was shiny and soft, and when he went to touch her bared shoulders, they were strong and silky.

"Say absolutely nothing to me, I want to do all the talking," he instructed. She nodded with a slight frown, brushing her hair from her face to focus on the task. "I don't want to hear any sound from you unless I ask for your voice. I want your body to entertain me, tonight."

She undressed him with all confidence of a woman already familiar with him, and she touched his bared skin with gentle strokes – as if making up for the cold chill of being exposed. When he stood naked in front of her, he gave her a pointed look.

"I'd feel more comfortable if you were a little more 'casual'," he said, indicating her bodice.

She reached up to loosen the ties, revealing only a flat pane of chest that gave him glimpses of pink nipples. Her admired the very look of her all over again – tall for a woman, her hair lightly curled, her makeup light to compliment soft features. Sicily had been over-made, over-exaggerated, but soft and gentle with her movements, and this one wasn't any of that. He liked that very much. Once she saw she had his overall approval in her appearance, she brushed her hair out of her face, then led him to the bed, encouraging him to sit first.

"Say nothing, do nothing, flat on your back," he instructed firmly, waiting for her to comply. She hesitated for a brief moment, but did as he instructed – taking her time with it, just to show off a rounded ass in the air, glimpse of smooth legs that had a surprising amount of muscle to them. When she flattened herself on the bed with her arms spread in the way he'd told Sicily to do – palms out, fingers curled, almost like the man that dangled from the wooden cross in Ivankov's office – Lucci was definitely appreciative. Not having to give orders made it easier for him. He brushed his hair behind one ear as he climbed atop of the bed, to look over the woman that looked up at the ceiling with concentration as he reached down to stroke himself.

He touched her shoulders, then her chest, shifting the bodice around so that it exposed most of her upper body to him. He didn't approve of the malnutrition indicated by bony ribs and a flash of chest plate now that the dress was revealing it all. His lip curled lightly at the sign of weakness, but he still leaned over to smell where the application of scent was – a dewy dash of oil at her chest. He touched her nipples, watching them respond to his fingertips. The sound of him stroking himself was the only sound in the room, and he licked soft skin before moving up to the tender throat. He nuzzled there, feeling no trace of stubble, bumping against Adam's Apple – he lightly nibbled up the sharp jawline and gently bit her earlobe.

"Open your legs, pretty girl," he encouraged, dropping his dick to touch her with both hands, smoothing down her front to watch her knees lift. He reached out for the hem of her gown and then reached under the material, expecting to find underwear, and finding nothing. He grinned, figuring Sicily had said something to them about his preferences.

He found her dick and balls – finding them warm, soft, smooth. He smelled his hand and was pleased at the clean scent there, reaching out to pull the bodice down to reveal one nipple. Stroking himself again, he pushed the layers of material up and over her hips. One leg was trembling noticeably. When he touched it, she tensed, and he released the first slap over her mouth.

"Don't react," he told her, as her mouth tightened, then loosened. He pushed that leg to the side, and she gave a low growl, tensing, so that included another slap, hard enough to cut her teeth. Grabbing her chin, he leaned over her, watching blood bead up from the corner of her mouth.

"I told you. No noise. No sound from you."

Once he was satisfied with her nod, he shifted from her hip to push himself between her legs. She lifted her head to give him a warning look, as if to remind him of Ivankov's rules, so he reached out with one hand and pushed her face back, leaning over her with a growl.

"I'm well aware of the rules," he said low, his other hand moving over her exposed parts, fondling gently before tightening his fingers around her balls and having her shout out with pain. This allowed him to grin, to slap that open mouth with an open palm. She reached up to grab his hand with steely fingers, jerking his hand from her face and then biting his forearm. When he reacted with a snarl, drawing back to examine the damage, she chuckled, supporting herself on her elbows as she watched him.

Sicily had been a wreck at this point – she'd started crying after he'd hit her the first time. This one looked at him defiantly, licking her lip wound with casual action. The moment he lunged at her with a closed fist, one long shin drew over his stomach, hips twisting, the ruined leg kicking upward and then hooking down over his shoulder, one hand snatching that swinging arm and pulling it hard so that he lost his balance over her, and she was suddenly atop of him, mounted over his stomach.

He stared at her as she steadied herself over him, palms flat on his chest. He had no idea what this move was, unfamiliar with the martial art, but damn if it didn't stop him from administering anymore abuse. It excited him, though, feeling his chest flutter with delight as she sat back on him, fixing her gown loosely.

"Cuddling doesn't include hitting, you selfish ape," she said tightly, frowning at him. "You want that sort of thing, hit the bar down the road and take it out on them."

"I told you, I didn't want you talking to me."

"I'm talking at you, then. But I won't tolerate that sort of thing, today."

He considered her words thoughtfully as he touched her thighs, stroking upward, pushing the material up to touch more of her. She wiped her lip and chin, and he could smell the blood, which only excited him even more. He grabbed that hand, causing her to tense, but he licked her fingers, tasting the metallic tinge, the salty flavor of her own spit.

"Crazy ass bastard," she muttered with a curled lip, disdain clear on her features. She made to steady herself as he bucked his hips up, but while she was set firmly atop of him, riding with the movement, she clearly hadn't expected his strength as he forced her to the side and onto her stomach. He was told he had the strength of many men, his size deceiving – she hadn't expected that, giving a growl into the mattress, but he wasn't expecting her flexibility, either, one leg curled in between them, heel against his hip, her hips shifted – he couldn't enter her the way he'd intended once he had this position.

He chuckled low, leaning over her back. He pressed kisses over exposed skin, nuzzled against slim muscle…frowned at a protruding shoulder blade. He brushed her hair from her back so he could appreciate the view – didn't like the way her spine pushed at her skin.

"Doesn't Ivankov feed you?" he complained, pushing up against her leg, rubbing his erection on the smooth limb. He released her hand, to grab her hips, encouraging her to sit up against him. He hugged her tightly from behind, kissing and nuzzling her ear, her neck, her shoulders- gently bit the rounded strength of her deltoid. He touched her everywhere, mostly atop of the gown, feeling her tense against him – her hair smelled like scented oil and salt. Reaching between her legs, he pushed the material out of his way, found her dick. Stroked her with careful tenderness until she responded, giving a soft sound as she pushed up against him.

Smiling lightly, Lucci played with her until her body softened against him. He kissed her cheek, moving towards her mouth before she turned her head away, causing him to stop pleasuring her. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look his way. "Give me a kiss."

"No."

"This body is mine to do with it as I please for an hour."

"Body – not mouth."

He smeared the pale color of her lips to the side, coloring his thumb with it. He liked the streak it left on her skin, mixed lightly with blood. He growled, biting her neck lightly, saying, "I like you."

"Well, I don't like you, so…"

He pushed her onto the bed, made to grab her hips again, but she rolled away from him, foot on his chest. He noticed it was her good leg – he lunged forward to set his shin on her other leg, causing her to grimace, so he shoved the first out of the way, grabbing her roughly as he set all his weight onto that leg. It made her cry out, so he wrapped his fingers around her neck and squeezed.

"Call for help," he suggested, watching her fight to pull his fingers away, her face reddening, turning a violent shade as seconds passed. "Call for it. Tell Blueno to help you."

When he gave her a chance, he was surprised she didn't try. Just kicked him across the face, knocking him onto his side while she coughed and fought for breath. He laughed again, getting up to lay over her, pushing her gown up and over her hips. She twisted her hips and was on her back, knee up into his stomach. She heaved that limb up and suddenly he was on the floor, off the bed.

He growled, climbing up to his feet and found her looking at him with an amused smirk, legs crossed behind her. His fists tightened, and she laughed at the sight of them trembling at his sides, rolling over to lay on her back. When he struck out, she was off onto the other side of the bed, facing him.

"There are rules, bastard," she said, hiding her smile behind a hand. "If you can't follow simple rules, then get the fuck out."

"Why is my food forcing me to work for it?" he asked aloud as he crawled atop of the bed. She backed up cautiously, testing the weight on her left leg before avoiding the swipe of his arms, and suddenly shoving the full length mirror in front of him, causing him to bang his face off it. he shoved that aside, then stalked after her as it crashed against the wall with a loud clatter. "Come here and cuddle with me."

Before she could say anything, the door opened – but she kicked it shut. "Fuck out of here!" she snapped, reaching back and locking it as she faced him.

Lucci was amused at this point, especially when Blueno cleared his throat politely. "Both of you are making too much noise, and Ivankov is concerned about your welfare."

"This is a party of two, so fuck on out of here, Blueno!"

"…Rude."

Candy walked away from the door, still looking at Lucci with irritation. Lucci followed her with head movement only, then turned away from the door as she grabbed a bottle from the dresser, opening the top. She took a short drink, then put it aside with a smack of her lips.

"Aren't you going to offer me any?" Lucci asked, slowly venturing towards her once more.

"No."

He suddenly laughed, and, brushing his hair behind his ears, he gave up the chase. With a flashy wave of his hands, he indicated that she watch as he took that time to put on his pants, to show that he wasn't going to push for anything more. She did relax a little, but as she walked around the bed, he suddenly realized why the room was set up as it was. She'd created an obstacle course for her benefit, to use against him in such a case. Seeing all the furniture shifted unnaturally out of place, giving her room to move, suddenly filled him with pleasure, and he laughed hard.

Especially when he kicked the ottoman up and into the air towards her, forcing her to duck away from him, and the moment he did, he was on the couch behind her, grabbing her with both hands – a second later, he was being slammed down hard onto the floor as she tossed him with an expertly placed throw. On his feet in seconds, he kicked the couch towards the wall to trap her there, and she jumped up and over the couch with a troubled frown, stumbling a little – he used that advantage to land a kick to the gut, knocking her flat against the wall. She recovered quickly, darting up with a quick lunge of her good leg and landing the knee of her bad leg against his face as he made to step in. the hit knocked him off his feet and into the dresser, causing the thing to screech noisily across the floor, banging into the wall with a loud protest. Everything atop of it rattled violently.

As he made to reset himself, growing furious by the unexpected treatment, she landed a foot directly into his chest, and this time, both he and the dresser went inches deep into the wood. Elizabeth, in the room next to Candy, screamed with surprise and fear as she woke up to the sound of her roommate's furniture penetrating her side of the wall. When she saw it, she screamed again, and scrambled out of bed, shouting for Blueno.

Lucci laughed with merriment, picking himself up from the mess, rubbing his chest. Then he was tackling Candy hard into the opposite wall, knocking the wind from her – they emerged into Bella's room, and Bella was in the middle of putting her wig on just so she could go out and investigate the noise, so when they tumbled over the floor, she shrieked bloody murder, certain that Candy was being killed in front of her. She ran out, screaming for Blueno.

Candy had her forearms up against Lucci's throat to keep him from completely crushing her, and she bucked her hips up and twisted, sweeping his supporting leg out from under him so that she was now on top. She expected his next movement, and curled one leg around him with a death grip, the other reaching out to support herself as Lucci tried to buck her off. He couldn't, so he grabbed both arms and rolled his feet up and over his own head, smashing her into the floor just above his head. She twisted the moment she hit, and he still couldn't mount her as she turned to the side and kept her backside guarded by using Bella's heavy chaise lounge as protection. She kicked out with one foot and caught him in the throat, causing him to choke. Then she kicked him with the same foot, and was on her feet in moments, eking a grunt as she whipped her bad leg around and knocked him through Bella's open door. He skidded across the hall and broke through the banister, catching himself from falling to the first floor as Caroline nearly tripped over him as she made to go investigate the noise. She ran for Blueno, who looked intensely hassled as he had all the girls swamping him for protection.

"Stop this immediately!" Ivankov shouted, racing up the stairway as Lucci pulled himself from the mess, laughing. The other women were terrified of this. They crowded around Blueno for protection as Ivankov swept past him, headed towards Lucci as he picked himself up. "You're destroying my property! What are you doing? Candy! What - ?"

"We've still got a half hour left," Candy told her, stepping out from Bella's wrecked room. She fixed her hair, giving the man an expression of disdain as he wiped his pants free from wood shards, looking a little mad.

"This isn't what I had in mind when you said you'd handle him," Ivankov growled, leaning in close as Candy turned her head with a muttered, "'Ch."

"Don't 'ch' me! Look at these walls! My furniture! Ah! You even destroyed Elizabeth's room? What's the matter with you? LUCCI!"

"Calm down, it's not like I'm hurting her any, right?" he said, brushing past her on his way back to Candy's room. "Not yet, at least. I'm being nice, like Blueno asked."

"'Blueno'? My request overrides his!" Ivankov yelled as Candy followed after Lucci, both of them headed through Bella's room to return to hers. Ivankov found out why as she tried to open Candy's door, and found it locked. The door immediately rumbled with force as something heavy crashed against it. There was the intense shatter of glass, and she screamed in horror, looking at Blueno. "Stop this mess! Stop it, I order you!"

"I can try," he said reluctantly, pushing out from the girls crowded around him, intending on walking through Bella's room to do so. But the moment he ducked under the hole in the wall, the couch slammed into him and sent him stumbling backwards into the bed. The girls screamed with utter dismay as they saw him fall.

Ivankov turned to them, and then shooed them towards the downstairs for safety. As they were making their way towards the living room, she heard Candy give a short scream of pain, followed by Lucci's laugh as something crashed to the floor. Then there was the ominous sound of a continuous rocking, which made Ivankov lose the will to interfere because she was familiar with that noise. She ushered the girls out of the house as Blueno followed, looking glum.

: :

When Lucci lifted his head to look at Candy twenty minutes later, she was looking off in another direction, indifferent to his pleasure. Only minutes previously, when he finally pinned her down to mount her, he expected to get in, take his pleasure and get out, but Candy was made of different stuff. She turned his intended rape into something for herself, where she took control of him – she let him in, she let him feel he was dominating her, but when it became clear that her movements weren't those of a helpless maiden and those of a seasoned one, he let her have her moment. She controlled him from atop of him and prolonged his pleasure until she could get hers. Then finished him off.

This wasn't what he'd expected to have when he walked in, today. It was safe to say he'd fallen for her. She wasn't a weak woman, in need of protection or domination. She was the same stuff he was, and he enjoyed that immensely.

But seeing this sudden indifference after the sick passion earlier set him off. It was a total turn around, so to be brushed off like this enraged him. He leaned over her, shaking his head with disdain, his long hair falling over her features and causing her to brush it away.

"I'm not happy," he said low, pushing his forehead against hers, nuzzling her face as she looked at him warily.

"You're so hard to please," Candy muttered. She jerked her head back to avoid his teeth as he made to bite her, and he chuckled, reaching between them to brush her hair hard from her scalp, finding the pins that kept the wig in place. Candy pushed his hand away, then pushed his body off her. She straightened her dress over herself as she limped away from the bed, headed to the dresser with the pitcher of water. Lucci looked at her with a flat expression, his temper showing only in the slight flush to his face and neck.

She poured herself water and drank it, facing away from him, and Lucci felt his fingers curl into fists on the bed.

"Get back here, and cuddle with me," he said low.

"You've got ten more minutes left, and that water's getting cold," she said.

Leaving the bed, Lucci stalked over towards her, reaching for her, and then finding himself looking into a barrel of a gun. For a few moments, he was startled, a little shamed that he'd find himself killed naked in a transvestite brothel. Then he realized there were no bullets in the gun.

Candy smirked at him, tilting the gun up and holding the trigger down – flame licked the muzzle instead, and she lit her hand rolled cigarette, exhaling smoke in his direction. "Idiot."

Lucci grabbed her by her neck and slammed her up against the dresser. He could feel himself growing enraged all over again – furious that she could feel free to call him names, to tease him. She spit the cigarette into his face, and it burned his cheek, forcing him away from her.

"Fuck!" he shouted furiously, touching his face. His breathing evened out as the pain faded. With a grit of his teeth, he waited until he could trust himself to move without wanting to hurt. "Sorry, girly. Temper, and all."

"Understandable. Now get the fuck out of my room."

Lucci wiped his face. His eyes narrowed, and he felt his chest tightening up with building outrage. Where he usually felt relief and satisfaction after sex, he felt that tiny room inside of him build with hot anger all over again.

"Where are you from?" he asked curiously, reaching out with one hand. When she moved to keep it from touching her, he indicated that he was only reaching to extend a comforting hand. She allowed it once she determined he wasn't going to hurt her – just yet – and he rubbed her arm, stepping in close. Out of kicking range. She knew it, looking at him with a slight loss of confidence, eyes showing a bit of fear before she narrowed them with warning.

"The south," she answered curtly, as he took her hair in one hand, admiring the strands. He combed through the handful he'd captured, until he could touch her head, patting her shoulder like one would with a friend. Before reaching in and encircling her neck with that hand, drawing up against her, pushing her up against the dresser. This time, her fear showed – the tightness of her breath, the way her eyes rounded and showed panic, the way her other hand came between them to settle on his chest. Without room to move, she couldn't do anything fancy to escape.

"You don't have an accent," he pointed out, leaning in to smell her flesh, closing his eyes to do so. "You smell good. What is this scent you use?"

"It's called the Get the Fuck of Me scent. Brand new. Shipped it in from the east."

"You're so funny," he said, before squeezing her neck and forcing her away from the dresser, shoving her away from him. "It's time for me to go. I want a bath."

She turned to make her way to the tub, mumbling something under her breath when he came up behind her, one arm around her waist and the other around her chin. He slammed her against the bed, making sure she felt the pressure on her neck. As she caught her breath, fear making her tremble against him, he soothed it with a gentle rub on her hip, making comforting circles with his fingers. Touching her gently while his other hand twisted her chin into one direction, and the pressure of his shoulder held her in place, moments from snapping her neck.

Once she calmed her breathing, relaxing to let him know that he had the upper hand, he said against her cheek, "I have no qualms about dispatching of your remains in Ivankov's backyard. I get paid for killing worthless, weak creatures much like yourself. When I come to you, I don't want to hear lip – I just want comfort, to ease away all the stresses of a demanding job. That's all I ask of you. Is that so hard for you to satisfy?"

At the slight shake of her head, Lucci applied more pressure. There was a pop, and a breathless squeak of panic from her, but he stopped just enough to keep the vertebrae from snapping out of place. All he did was relieve the pressure from the space between.

He straightened up from her, spanking her lightly. "That's a girl. Now, wash me."

: :

After, he soaked himself in the tub, feet at the top edges. He enjoyed the cigar Candy gave him, blowing smoke rings towards the ceiling. She was looking sullen, staring at the washcloth in her lap, and every time she looked at him, her blue grey eyes seemed to burn with temper and disgust. It amused him. Her stiff posture told him she didn't know how to read him, didn't know what he'd do next – treat her with kindness, or with pain. Her left cheek was already bruised from earlier, her lip swollen, broken blood vessels looking like freckles over her pale skin.

"Come here," he said, waving her close. She followed his instruction, and he pulled her into the tub, clothes and all. After adjusting himself around her, Lucci stroked her head, pushing hair from her shoulders so that he could press kisses to the soft skin. Forced her face back to stroke the length of her throat, admire the fiercely beating pulse spot near her jaw. He then reached down low, shifting aside wet material of her gown aside so he could find her dick. He stroked and played with it until it hardened. "You took care of me, today, let me take care of you. You've done me so well, you deserve to be treated special."

He left hickies on her shoulder as he stroked her to completion, enjoying the sound of her soft moans and encouraging curses, the feel of her fingers and hands as they reached back to clutch him.

Afterward, he headed downstairs to Ivankov's office, wearing a pleased expression. She glared at him, cigarette holder at her lips. All the hate in the world was there on her heavily made up face, and he couldn't care less.

"I'll be back within the week. She should be healed by then, and the repairs completed to your home."

Ivankov reddened, heavily made eyes burning furiously. "You bastard! Goddamn heathen! Savage!"

"Compliments, compliments," Lucci said, taking his coat from Blueno, then his gloves. He left the house and Ivankov left her office, heading upstairs.

There were a few girls already in the room, tending to Candy with quiet tears and soft expressions. But she only looked at Ivankov, who touched her chest with vague relief to see her intact and unusually well off. It always tore her apart to see her girls being left in an abused state; but while they were usually shocked, hysterical, comatose from the abuse Lucci dished out, this one looked indifferent to it. Her suspicions rose tenfold.

Ivankov waved the girls away. All of them were distressed, and she knew it'd be a hassle to calm them. Rob Lucci always put the fear of the devil into all of them, and today was no different. She examined the damage caused to the room, shaking her head with incredulous action. She stood near Candy and examined her face. Blueno shut the door for her, leaving them on their own.

"He paid plenty for you, and for the repairs. Those government bastards are loaded when they want to be. I can't ignore his patronage, being that we're inside their compound, but I want to know this – who the fuck are you?"

"You said we couldn't have our real names, again," Candy said without pause, touching her lower lip tenderly. "So, my name is Candy, now."

Ivankov narrowed her eyes. "You walk with your back to the wall. You're scared to death of Blueno, and you refuse to venture into the downstairs living room when it's full of men. You play sick when it's time for us to walk outside –you did this!"

She indicated the room with a grand gesture, once again dismayed with the state of it. giving short sounds of panic as she investigated the holes that clearly allowed her visibility into both Bella and Elizabeth's rooms. She looked once more at Candy, who was suddenly undressing, ripping everything off herself and headed to the bathroom. There, she ran hot water, steam covering the mirror, and began to wash herself; cupping her hands under the stream and tossing it over her flesh, rubbing soap painfully over her skin, nails scratching everywhere she had felt Lucci's touch.

Ivankov rushed over and yanked her away from the task, startled because it seemed Candy had disassociated herself from the scene, and wasn't even paying attention to the task. She was just trying to clean herself of the man's leftovers as best as she could, and Ivankov realized that Candy was more affected by the situation than she said she was. Sex workers were like this. Letting their bodies take the damage, hiding away their minds in the process. Her suspicions were nullified.

"Here, I'll draw you a bath, and you can use my best soap to clean yourself off," she said with comfort, covering Candy's body with a towel to give her some privacy. She used the best words she could think of to apply comfort in this situation. "Let me help you, I want to help you. Let's make you clean again, and we can do that, here. There is no shame here, we care for you. We want the best for you. We'll take care of you, okay? You're magnificent and strong, you did your best against that lunatic. Let us help you, let us love you. You matter to us, and we want to help you. Can you hear me?"

When Candy nodded vaguely, her expression still so distant and far away, Ivankov hugged her gently, murmuring comforting words all the way to her room.