1949

Jerry Carter. Previously Edward O'Mara.

Veteran. Playboy. Gangster Killer.

"Still got it." I thought to myself, snapping back my Mossberg 500 Persuader to reload as the boys called it, my "baby." After we all the knew the war had ended for good, we were back to our old tricks. Back into the police force in a blink of an eye. Sergeant. Sergeant Jerry Carter. Post WWII Los Angeles was a place of grime and violence. I'd come back from war a veteran, a hero, someone to be looked up to. Hero, my ass. Mickey Cohen was the only 'hero' about California these days. The big-time mob gangster, who thought swannin' around killing everything in his path was the way forward to a future of wealth and fame. Although, fuck the future, he already had enough money to fill the Atlantic Ocean. Slimy bastard. I wanted him gone. We all did.

I turned to see Eric walk in through the small door that lead into his basement, where we kept our necessary machinery. Eric Ramirez was my eldest and most loyal friend, my right-hand man. We'd been through thick and thin together, and still come out the other side victorious. He'd served in the 2nd battalion to mine, also a hero.

"Chief, some of our shotguns are at Conwell's place. Should I go pick 'em up?"

"Nah." I quickly dismissed Eric's proposal, knowing we didn't need this much weaponry for the time being. Plus, my other boys would provide more in the long-run.

I watched Eric take a seat on one of the ripped leather chairs he'd thrown down here years ago, promising to chuck away. "Alright." His eyes wavered to follow my hand reloading.

"And it's Jerry to you." I kept my eyes on the bullets falling down the barrel.

Eric smiled, shook his head, and slowly removed his hat. "Thought it would help get us back into the swing of things. Y'know, our gang back together."

I nodded. The past was piecing back together, slowly but surely, the gang was reforming. We'd take to the streets of the city again. Stomping out this wave of crime like a helpless little bug under our feet.

I knew once I'd walked through the door that Mitch would come at me like a bat out of hell. He was our youngest member, a little inexperienced still, but I was taking care of that. He knew how to work a firearm and was a good detective, that's all I needed to see when it came to hiring young'uns.

"Ready to go, Lieutenant?" I heard Max call from the living room.

Upon wandering in, I saw my other boys. Detective Max Kennard, the legendary gangster-killer and Detective Conwell Keeler, our wire-tapper. Stood to attention before their boss.

I tried to keep serious. As I knew they were teasing about my veteran reputation.

"Alright, men. Time to move out. First job's come in." I almost shouted my demands. Watching my men shove their guns in their holdalls before putting on their perfectly cleaned Fedoras. I needed a new one. Something more sharp to stand out. I reminded myself again to find one before our next job.

Heading out the door down to the car, Eric caught me up, walking alongside whilst trying to talk as fast as he could.

"Hey, Jez, we were thinking about getting the crew together for dinner some when. You up for it?"

I opened the drivers door of the car, taking a glance over the roof at Eric getting in the opposite side.

"I'll see." I nodded over to him before he got into his car. I knew that he was only trying to get the crew together to celebrate returning home. But I didn't feel there was much to celebrate. Coming back to a destroyed city filled with gangsters who were killing for fun. The term 'home' wasn't deemed right anymore.

Slotting my key into the ignition, I started up the car.

"Eric, you inviting your sister this time?" I heard Max ask Eric. Before a chorus of low chuckles seemed to appear from the back of the car. Like I'd bought out a pack of children instead of policemen.

I concentrated on the road ahead of us, taking in all the differences of the city I'd come to know and love.

I saw Eric turn his body round to look at our 3 boys sat in the back.

"You mention her again, and you'll feel my pistol down your throat. Got it?"

I smirked a little, knowing how raged Eric got at the mention of his family when we were working.

"Concentrate, you pack of dogs. We've got our man." I pulled up into the free space on the opposite side of the road to Mickey Cohen's most famous poker joint. We were out to catch Cohen's right-hand man, Karl Lennox. Re-known for his ruthless killing sprees.

We sat watching Lennox lighting up outside the club. All of us focused on our criminal. We were back in business.

A few weeks later...

I forcefully pushed my tie higher to reach my buttoned collar. I hated any formal shit like this, but I was doing it for Eric. I knew how much he'd been through and I wanted my partner to feel like his crew and friends were supporting him. Taking a final gaze at myself in the mirror, I sighed a little. My tie wasn't straight. Never was. Fuck it, whatever. I turned to grab my jacket, making sure my pistol was securely in it's holdall under my arm. I didn't want any trouble tonight, but we had to all be prepared now. Especially since our new orders had been placed.

The bar Eric had finally organised our dinner at was classy. Classy for downtown LA anyway. Full of old crooners talking over business. Young guys drinking away their sorrows with molls blurred in clouds of tobacco smoke. I could feel the holdall of my Smith and Wesson firmly pressing into my shirt under my jacket. It was a comfort. Safety. What I needed to keep me calm through this evening.

I took a seat next to Eric at the end if the table, opposite an empty chair.

"Jerry, my boy! What's your poison tonight?"

"The usual."

Eric looked over to Max propped up against the bar close to the table, calling out to him.

"Max, get our chief his usual. On my tab."

"So when's your sister coming?" I knew Conwell was one to tease us all. But he'd been pestering Eric about this all day.

I leant over to murmur quietly in Conwell's ear.

"What's so special about his sister?"

"Have you ever seen her, chief? Let's just say she's a fine dame."

Suddenly, I began to watch every head at the table turn. I in-turn followed their eyes to settle on the finest woman I'd ever seen. Her golden locks settled over her chest, the soft curls bouncing a little as she walked. The split in her blood red dress ending teasingly high on her thigh, I couldn't take my gaze off her curves. Her long legs with just enough skin exposed. The diamonds strung around her chest and hanging from her ears reflecting the dim light of the bar. Watching her quickly wink at the barman as she heads over to our table.

"The middle Ramirez sister everyone, or should I say moll."

I heard Max chuckle, seeing Eric's hand hit off his arm.

"What are you all giggling about like school boys?" The voice of an angel. Who'd taken her place opposite me at the table. Eric's sister's features were breathtaking up close. I seemed to lose my train of thought every time I looked over to her.

She flashed me a soft smile, her bright red lips curving up each side, placing her small clutch bag on the table. Reaching her hand over the table to me.

"I don't think we've met before. Tanya. And you are?"

I grabbed her hand, slowly bringing it up to my lips, pressing a gently kiss on her soft skin.

"Jerry Carter."

Then our eyes met. Jesus, her eyes. I couldn't bring myself to stop looking into them. Dark brown like swirls of chocolate. Hypnotizing me.

"Nice to meet you, Jerry."

I took a deep breath as I leant my elbows down on the white glass of the bar. Some of the boys had left already, unsure about our surroundings in this joint. And I didn't blame them. If I didn't have my pistol under my jacket, I would be on edge too.

I looked at the line of upside down bottles hung up along the back of the bar, seeing which ones I could read. My fingers clenched around the glass of malt on the rocks in my hand.

"Why so tense, handsome?" I felt a hand cover the top of my wrist.

Upon looking up, there was the angel again. Leant with her elbows and back against the bar. Tanya Ramirez. Even her name was like sugar to my lips.

"I'm not. Just a lot on my mind."

I watched her take a drag from her cigarette. I'd never seen a woman smoke so sexily before.

"So, are you gonna be the next one to offer to make an honest woman outta' me?"

I slowly shook my head from side to side.

"No ma'am. I was just hoping to take you to bed."

Looking up at the goddess seeming to be floating right by my side, I saw her quickly smirk, blowing out a long drag of smoke diagonally upwards.

I turned my head back to watch the barman making a drink for another customer on my other side. Trying my hardest to put Tanya far from my mind, knowing that Eric would skin me alive if any happened between us. But she was so mesmerizing, it was unreal to me. I'd never had a woman seduce me like this.

Hearing a soft crash from the bar close to my arm, I glanced down to see a key being pushed to me, underneath slender fingers, and long glowing red nails.

"Meet me at the address on the key-ring. I'll be waiting."

A gap formed beside me. Reading the words written on the tag on the keys.

I took another deep breath, knowing that I was about to do something that could cause me to potentially lose my partner.

But I didn't care. I was going to try and take this goddess for my own.

My very own moll.