Okay so first of all, I'm really not sure about this and I've been a bit wary of uploading it as a result of this. Secondly, I was not going to start something new but I was inspired.
This will probably be a twoshot. Maybe three. So just let me know what you think...
Let Freedom Ring
Chapter One.
She'd never expected much from her life; not with the harrowing way she had grown up. She was surprised she'd made it to fifteen, let alone the age of twenty one that she now was. It was at that time when she was a young, strong willed, fighter of a fifteen year old that she met the one man that wouldn't change her world, but change her. He had perceived her naive like all the rest her age. She had thought him a mad man and he definitely begged the question that if she had survived this long, how the hell had he?
"You keep staring at him that hard you'll give yourself a nose bleed."
"I just don't get him." The girl continued to stare in the same direction.
"What's not to get? He's a badass who'll kill any bastard that gets in his way."
The girl, Chris, rolled her eyes before finally turning away from the man who sat in the corner of the bar. "Very funny." She said sarcastically. "You knew what I meant."
"No Chris, I did not. Wanna know why?" Chris shrugged at her blonde friend. "Because you've been asking me that question every day for the past week and let's be honest, no one knows what you mean when it comes to him." Chris narrowed her eyes playfully.
"Not my fault he just won't listen or understand." Chris turned again to glance back at the table. Her green eyes caught his grey blue ones; anyone else would have looked away from such a stare from him. But not her. She refused to lose any battle between them; she wouldn't lose.
"He's God here, why would he leave?" Chris' eyes were still locked with his as she responded.
"Because it's for me." He was the one that finally turned away.
"What were you two talking about?" Chris glanced up from cleaning the bar to see Joe had taken one of the many empty bar stools.
"She's been acting all crazy," Cassidy said as rested her elbows on the bar and leant forwards. Joe's eyes immediately landed on her now very full and clearly viewable cleavage. "She doesn't understand your brother." Her voice held a sarcastic tone as she mocked Chris.
"Very funny." Chris once again rolled her eyes as she turned her back to the two of them. She hated days like this when the bar was completely dead. She knew why of course, news must have got around that the most feared gang in Columbia were here.
"He still not talking to ya?" Joe asked, his eyes switching from Cassidy's breasts to the mirror behind the bar where he could see Chris' reactions.
"Since when has he ever talked to me?" Chris emphasised as she turned back to the man who was only a mere year older than herself. "Since when has he ever talked to anyone?" She knew that he could hear them from his seat in the corner and that just urged her on the more. Joe quickly glanced in the direction of the group at the back of the room. His eyes instantly found the blue grey ones that were glaring at the three at the bar. He turned back to Chris and simply shrugged. "He's your fucking brother and he's never spoken a real word to you."
"That's not true and you know it." Joe quickly responded not wanting to anger his elder brother more than Chris was right now.
Chris let out a sarcastic laugh. "Bull. That man is so fucked up he can't let his own brother in, let alone his fucking girlfriend!" She was speaking dangerously loud now and Joe begged her with his eyes to calm down. "Grow a pair Joey," her eyes narrowed. "You don't have to be fucking scared of him!" The sound of a chair scraping harshly on the tiled floor made Joe wince. Shit. Chris laughed once more as she turned to the man who was now walking towards them; a murderous look on his face. "Coming to join us Billy?" Her sarcasm only angered him more. "Wanna actually talk to me Billy? Actually have a conversation for the first time in a week? You gonna tell me to shut the hell up? Calm the fuck down? Or have you just come to beat the crap out of me...again?" she lowered her voice on the last word and he froze in his movements. The entire bar fell quiet; ready and waiting for his attack.
His facial expression switched as he looked down. His eyes raised and locked on hers. Only she could read the sorrowful look on his face, only she knew she had taken a step too far. He finally raised his head completely, his eyes a dark grey now; a growing storm. Joe jumped from his seat and moved back, he knew that look, and they all knew that look. Even Chris took a small step backwards and she was never afraid of him. "Leave." The word hissed from his mouth and she could see his hands turn white from how tightly he was fisting them together. "Now." Her eyes looked at him sorrowfully for a moment before she did as she was told.
The others didn't understand why for the first time she actually listened and did as he said. Chris never adhered to his commands and she was the only one he ever allowed to get away with it. She knew she had taken a step too far, she knew she had pushed him over the edge and she knew she had to listen to him to help all the others in that bar. Why had she been so stupid?
She wrapped her small jacket tighter around her as she walked the long walk home. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually walked back to their small, dark and dank apartment; he would always drive them. He would always speed through the wet streets, paying hardly any attention to the road as he did so. He was dangerous. And boy did she love danger.
Then why had she been so fucking stupid?
Just as she rounded yet another corner her phone began its incessant ringing. She pulled it from her jeans pocket. "What?" she answered not paying attention to who was on the other end.
"You went too far." And there it was, that sensual, husky and soft voice he saved only for her. The voice she had been craving to hear for the past week. She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart beating wildly.
"I know."
"You've pissed me off." She knew that, anyone could have seen that. "Really fucked me off." She sighed knowing just how angry he was with her. She spent most days pissing him off, truth be told she loved doing it and it wasn't only because the makeup sex was so good (and boy was it), but she just loved to annoy him, she got a thrill from it and so did he. This was not one of those good times she pissed him off. This time it was not playful. This time it was serious because she had not only pissed him off, but hurt him too. Anyone would laugh at the fact that Billy Darley could get hurt. He was strong, he was a fighter, and he was a killer. But she could hurt him; she was the only one that could really do so.
"I know." She sighed again and scuffed the ground with her biker boot. "But you've pissed me off too."
"I know." Both knew neither would give an apology; they were too stubborn for that. "Stay the fuck where you are, I'll be there in a few." She laughed at how eloquent he was. He hadn't changed in the six years she'd known him; except maybe opening his heart to her, even if it was in the slightest. She'd known of course that he wouldn't change who he was. No one would if they were him- why would you change who you are if you were God? He hadn't always been so dark though, when she'd first met him there was a softer side, one he would only ever show when protecting those he cared about. But then in the quickest of moments he could complete an entire one eighty; in a matter of seconds he could blow someone's head off without hesitation. And still, even at fifteen she had never been afraid...
"We don't want any problems here, do you understand?" Chris rolled her eyes.
"Jesus, you get caught up with the police a couple times and suddenly you're a troublemaker." The smirk she had planted on her face fell immediately upon seeing the hand that was suddenly headed for her face. The force of the slap was hard on her reddening cheek and she could feel the tears burn in her eyes. She had never been hit before. She'd been in so many crappy foster homes before, each and every one where the 'parents' didn't care about her well being at all, that their only worry was getting their pay every week. But she had never been hit.
"I do not tolerate sarcasm young lady." She nodded meekly, her hand resting delicately on her scolding cheek. "And blaspheme again and you'll get a lot more than a slap!" Her eyes continued to focus on the spot her new 'father' had stood even after she heard her bedroom door slam. She tried to block on the shouting from downstairs, she tried to ignore the cries of the new born baby in the room next to hers and she tried to forget that she had actually just been locked into her own room; her own cell. Finally shaking her head and attempting to disregard the bruise she was sure was beginning to form on her cheek she made her way to her bed. The mattress was stained and lumpy, the base of the bed was literally falling to pieces and the sheets that had been left in a heap on the floor had the distinct smell of mould and pee.
"Fuck," she mumbled as she just lay down on the bed. Her eyes glanced around the small room, taking in and already despising her new life. The only furniture in the room was the old bed and a small chest of drawers against the other wall. The wallpaper (a discoloured shade of blue, or was it grey?) was peeling from the walls and the window was a tiny little hole in the wall, no bigger than a porthole on a ship. "Fuck." She mumbled again as the tears started to fall from her green eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried; probably when her parents had died or the first time she had gone to a foster home. She didn't understand why these people would agree to helping to raise orphaned and abandoned children if they didn't even like them- surely the money wasn't that good.
She sat up straight on the bed hearing her 'father' yell from downstairs, only for it to be followed by an extremely large thud. "Poor kid." She bit her lip realising that the slap she had just received would not be her last. "Fuck!"
There were six or seven children in her new home, and each and every one of them ignored the others as if they had plague. All children were allowed out of their rooms at seven in the morning where they could help themselves to breakfast. For the rest of the day they were to fend for themselves and were not allowed back into the house until seven for dinner and as soon as dinner was finished they were once again locked into their rooms. The schedule never ceased or changed. It was the same day in and day out. Chris had never known such a bad foster home before.
It was after living in that hell hole for nearly two months that she first met him. She'd noticed him one day when she out walking the streets trying to find something to take notice of. And he was it. He, with his quaffed brown hair and striking blue eyes, the strong, defined muscles he kept hidden under his long sleeved grey sweater, and that tattoo...the tattoo that appeared to start at his arm before travelling across his neck and back before finishing down his other arm. She'd seen men marked like that before and he was not the only one she saw out and about. They were gang men; bad men. And he appeared to be their leader.
"If he catches you staring at him he'll probably shoot ya." Chris jumped at the voice that seemed to appear out of nowhere. She turned and a boy about her age stood behind her, his thick red hair blowing in the wind. "I'm Joe." He stated sliding next to her on the stone steps in which she sat. She nodded turning back to look at the tall boy across the street. He was obviously dealing with the small business owner. "He's my brother." This caught Chris' attention.
"What's he doing?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"This an' that, that an' this." She laughed. "And you are...?"
"Not interested." It was his turn to laugh.
"You ain't my type," she nodded before turning back to the boy who had now finished his deal and was waiting for clear traffic to cross the street. "What's ya name?"
"Chris." She said.
"You're new around here ain't ya?" she nodded. "Fostered?" she turned unsure how he guessed it. "I know one when I see one." She nodded again not entirely understanding how he could tell but decided to leave it. Maybe they get a lot of foster kids around here.
"Joe, come on!" She turned at the husky voice and her breath caught in her throat as soon as their eyes met. She'd never had a crush before, but she was pretty sure she had one now. "Fuck's this?" he asked his eyes narrowing on her as he looked her up and down.
"Chris." Joe said standing up. "Chris this is Billy." Chris immediately stood up brushing the dust from her jeans.
She felt naked under the way he was looking at her, it was as if he was scrutinising over every little detail of her. Her eyes widened as his hand reached out for her face. He tilted her chin slightly with his fingers before tracing a rather large bruise on her chin and another above her eyebrow. "You should put some ice on those, they're starting to swell." He stated before dropping his hand. She nodded unsure if she could actually bring herself to speak. "How'd you get them?" he asked as he reached into his pocket and pulled a cigarette from the box. She watched as he placed it between his lips and squinted as he lit it. How could something so trivial be so...sexy? She shrugged in answer to him. A chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled the cigarette from them. "Parent beating on ya then."
"Something like that." She mumbled. He nodded taking another drag from his cigarette.
"Come on Joe, we gotta get going." Joe nodded. "Be here tomorrow, same time." He ordered to Chris.
"Why?" she shouldn't have questioned him. He was the first person to actually really talk to her since moving here. But her curiosity got the better of her. Here he was, this gang member, this insanely attractive gang member wanting to see her tomorrow. Why couldn't she just have nodded?
A smirk crossed his face. "Because it looks to me like you could do with having a bit of fun."
Fun was all their 'relationship' was to begin with. She'd join him and Joe on some deals or they'd just drive around in his car scaring the shit out of the elderly people in the neighbourhood. She found it unreal that suddenly she was a part of something, she fit in somewhere. Her favourite days were when it was just Billy and her. He'd always take her to do something really crazy and every minute she spent with him she found her crush deepening. She knew though that the eighteen year old felt nothing more for her than he would if she were his sister. Maybe that's how he did in fact think of her. All she knew was that here she was in hell, and yet he was saving her from it somehow.
She turned at the sound of his distinct car. The window was rolled down and his left arm was resting casually on its edge, he didn't turn to her, instead he continued to focus ahead of him, his icy blue eyes still narrowed in annoyance. Chris couldn't help but stop and stare at him. He mesmerised her and confused her all at once; she'd never get enough of him. "Well are ya gettin' in or ya gonna stand there like a fucking prick?" Her eyes widened and as hers met his she was shocked to see a humorous glint flickering there. There he was, her eloquent, practically bi-polar prince.
"Sorry," she mumbled climbing into the passenger seat. His laugh made her turn her head to him.
"I think that's the first time you've ever apologised to me," his smile was addictive and she soon found herself smiling right back at him.
"Don't get used to it." She rolled her green eyes and turned to face the road. She felt the adrenaline build as he sped through the grey streets. This was the life, this was her life. "Joey wants to fuck Cassidy." Billy scoffed next to her as he rounded a very tight corner still at high speed.
"Like he'll ever get that ass." Chris laughed.
"She's already fucking Baggy." She saw Billy turn to her out of the corner of her eye.
"Ya fucking me right?" She shook her head. "Fuck, no shit." Chris was highly amused that their King didn't know who was sleeping with who in their extremely tight knit gang. The car finally pulled to a stop outside their crappy apartment building. The air made her shiver even after sitting in his ice cold car for a while. They walked up the twenty three flights of stairs in silence. She smiled at him when he held their front door open to allow her to walk inside first; Billy Darley could be a gentleman when he wanted to be, but only for her.
Of course, as soon as the front door slammed behind them, the gentleman in him disappeared. And out appeared her favourite version of Billy Darley.
His hands immediately grabbed her upper arms and swung her around so quickly her breath was taken away from her for a second. He used this time to crash his lips against her own just as he pushed her into the breakfast bar of their tiny kitchen. She yelled out slightly at the pain of the counter coming into contact with her back but the yell soon turned into a moan as he lifted her onto the counter and pulled her as close to him as possible. His fingers found the opening of her shirt and ripped it apart before immediately unclasping her bra and peeling it from her skin. This was her Billy Darley...her animalistic, breath taking, rough and ready Billy Darley.
And this is why she loved arguing with him, because the makeup sex was more than good...it was euphoric.
"Pick up, pick up, pick up." Her sneaker clad foot tapped impatiently on the concrete. "Please pick up!" The tears were burning at the backs of her eyes as she continued to beg him to answer his freaking phone.
"Hey!" Her heart fluttered at the almost elated voice on the other end. "What's up?" The tears broke free at his question and she collapsed to the ground, ignoring the sharp pain in both her knees as the concrete came into contact with her bare skin.
"Please...come get me." She managed to whisper through her sobs. She heard the dial tone ring through the phone and she smiled half heartedly to herself realising he knew where she was and just how desperately she needed him. She'd never been so broken around him before, in the past year and a bit that she'd known him she'd always been strong and forceful; even when she spent most days getting a punch here, a slap there. They were equals when it came to self assuredness and she knew that he didn't understand why or how she was never afraid of him; but it only compelled him to try that much harder with her.
She didn't even hear the sound of his car pulling up beside her, or the car door slamming and his heavy feet rushing towards her. She only felt that sense of security and weightlessness when his arms wrapped tightly around her and lifted her to her feet. He gently placed her in the passenger seat of his car (strange considering she didn't even know Billy could be gentle) before jumping into the driver's side. Her hair shielded her face from him and she brought her knees to her chest. She wondered if he'd be angry that she had placed her shoes on his leather seats but decided that at this moment in time she no longer cared. As her hair billowed slightly in the wind she could see his eyes kept glancing in her direction. Was that fear there? Worry? No, of course not, this was Billy; Billy only cared about keeping his father happy and protecting Joe. Why would he care about this silly, naive little girl who tagged along with him for her own selfish reasons?
The car hummed to a stop and she kicked the door open with all the force she could muster. Her tears were subsiding but she continued to shake with anger and hurt. He waited for her to walk around the car before walking into the apartment building. Chris walked with her head down, her hair still shielding her and when she felt his hand grab the top of her arm she shook him away. They walked in silence with Billy sending her worried glances every time she would stop to take a breath, her right arm wrapping around her stomach as she did so.
What had happened to her?
"Do you want a drink?" he asked as soon as they stepped into the room. She shook her still bowed head and he sighed. "What happened Chris?"
Chris closed her eyes before threading a hand through her hair and pushing it away from her eyes before finally raising her head to look at him. His nostrils immediately began flaring in anger and his eyes went from the ice blue she loved to the stormy grey. He looked as if he was about to hit something, or someone. Perhaps he'd pull out that loaded gun she knew he always had down the back of his jeans and question who the hell it was he was killing. But instead he did something so foreign to her...he walked over to her and took her head in his hands. His touch felt soft, like a feather and from the way he was looking at her it was as if he wasn't Billy Darley, the gang leader, the badass...the murderer but instead, he was just Billy, the man...the actual human.
His thumb rubbed along the large gash that ran all along her jaw line, the swollen cheek, the bruised eye wondering why anyone would hurt such a beautiful and wonderful girl. From the fear in her eyes and the way she sounded on the phone he knew that these injuries were not the only ones she had suffered in this vicious attack. He'd seen bruises on her face before, knowing that her foster parents beat on her in a way to release steam but she'd never shown her fear before. "Let me see the rest..." she closed her eyes again before stepping away from him. He watched transfixed as she unzipped the red hoodie and peeled it from her body, her fingers then began unbuttoning the chequered blouse. His breathing increased as she shook it from her shoulders and just stood there in nothing but her bra. The pale porcelain skin begged for him to reach out and touch but as his eyes took in every mark, every bruise and every bloody scrape the anger in him boiled over.
Chris' insecurities went into overload as he just stood there, not looking anywhere but at her near naked form. Was he going to send her away? Was he disgusted by all the marks that covered her? Or was he already planning revenge on the scum that dared hurt her? It was her breathing that began to increase as he began walking around her; scrutinizing over every bruise. She gasped feeling his fingers come into contact with a rather large graze on her lower back. "What happened?" she turned her head to the right in her best attempt to look at him but he was stood too central.
"He just...flipped." She whispered. He nodded knowing full well she couldn't see it.
"We need to clean you up a bit." He mumbled striding to the kitchen. He pulled out a large box from under a counter and Chris gasped at how full it was of all sorts of medical supplies; and not of your average first aid box supplies. He ushered her over and lifted her onto the counter top. "This'll sting a little." She hissed when he began to dab antiseptic over every scrape. "Fuck," he mumbled as he placed a large wad of cotton wool to a wound on her lower stomach that was bleeding rather profusely. "That's gonna need stitches." He began fiddling around in the box again before pulling out a needle and thread. Was this guy serious?
"You're not seriously gonna do it yourself?" her eyes widened as he disinfected the needle.
"Relax, it's not my first time." A part of her knew just how true that statement probably was, that didn't however calm her in the fact that a nineteen year old boy was about to sew her back together. She winced as the needle first came into contact with her skin but the feeling disappeared as his fingers began tracing the line he made. "What'd he attack you with?" he questioned no longer looking at what he was doing but at her.
"Pocket knife." She shrugged as if it was nothing. And maybe it was because it had now brought her closer to the man she was falling in love with.
"Fucker," he mumbled turning back to his needle work. Once he was done he dabbed her again with more antiseptic. His eyes met hers again and he brought his hand to cup her cheek gently. Chris felt her heart practically beat out of her chest as his head bent forward and attached his lips to her neck. As romantic as the notion was, the butterflies were swirling in her stomach and the fireworks exploded. Billy Darley was kissing her.
Chris bit her lip as she watched Billy fast asleep next to her. He was stretched out on his stomach, his right arm absentmindedly thrown over her stomach. She shifted slightly, wincing when he grunted before rolling over to face the other way. Free from his grasp she climbed from the dingy mattress they called a bed and walked over to her nightstand. Chris rummaged through her underwear drawer, occasionally glancing in Billy's direction to see if he was still asleep of course; the soft snores could have proven that for her anyway. Finally she found what she was looking for. She lifted the manila folder from the drawer and made her way back to bed.
The bold words of the New York art institute shone out at her. Proceeding with biting her lip she glanced to Billy again before looking at folder once more. Why couldn't he understand? If she took the offer to go to school, to do exactly what she had always wanted, then they'd have a better life. They could start again in New York, no gangs, no deaths, no murders, nothing but them and their new and better life.
"Come back to bed," Billy mumbled, his arm reaching out trying his best to grab her. Chris laughed.
"I am in bed." Billy had rolled over in a second, squinting at her through tiredness.
"You're technically sitting in bed, now come lie back in it." Chris rolled her eyes at him. She really didn't understand him; sometimes, like times like these, he was practically the man she had met when she was fifteen. "Thought we'd talked about this." His voice had sharpened as he glanced down at the papers she was looking through.
"You talked and didn't listen," she tried to keep the mood light between them but knew from his look that their light hearted banter was long gone.
"Throw the fucking stuff away Chris." He ordered as he climbed up from the bed and pulled on some jeans.
"You can't tell me what to do Billy!" She sighed in annoyance. Billy was silent for a moment as he lit a cigarette. She watched as the muscles in his back tensed, at any other time she'd have thought it rather sexy but now, she was worried about him rearing himself up for what was to be yet another argument.
"You ain't going!" His voice was louder now as he turned back to her, cigarette in hand. "I'm not going, you're not going! There's nothing more to fucking say!"
"There's shitloads more to say!" she jumped up and he tried to train his eyes away from her long tanned legs. Fucking tease. "Why can't you do this for me? I've done every little thing in my fucking life for you and you can't do one thing for me?"
Gone were his ice blue eyes for the stormy grey to take their place. "I don't do shit for no one." He hissed, placing the cigarette back between his lips.
A maniacal laugh escaped her as she suddenly climbed over the mattress and pushed his bare chest with all her strength. "It's me Billy! Me!" she pushed him again, the tears breaking free. "I can't be without you but I can't continue living like this!" Her eyes closed as her arms fell flat against her side. And all of a sudden, she looked so small to him, so tired...so breakable. He hadn't seen her in this way since that fateful afternoon her foster father first really lost it with her; he hadn't even after the second or third times.
"Fuck's wrong with how we live?" he questioned, blowing the smoke into her face. Her nose twitched at the smell and boy did he love it when it did.
She glanced up at him and closed her eyes as if in pain. "What's right with it Billy?" She sounded broken, like every little thing she had pushed and shoved into the back of her mind had finally caught up with her.
"It's better than how it was before." She knew he was talking about her being thrown from foster home to foster home and yes, it was far better than any of that. But it still wasn't...right.
"Yes Billy but it's still no life." He sniffed. "I spend half of my time cooped up in here just waiting to see if you actually make it home alive. The other half I'm fending off drunks guys in the bar. And then sometimes...sometimes I die a little when you don't come home because you're off with one of your whores. It's not a life Billy."
His arms reached forward and rested on her shoulders. "But it's our life." His voice was calm again and his gaze strong. He loved her. The soft way his again ice blue eyes were looking at her proved that. But was it enough?
"No," she shook her head, averting their eyes. "It's your life." He sighed removing her from his grasp, his nostrils flared as he tried to control his anger. She jumped when she heard his fist coming into contact with the wall. He took the cigarette from his mouth and pounded it out on the dresser.
"I fucking looked after you." His voice had narrowed once more as he turned back around to face her. He sniffed again. "I fucking saved you from that sick prick!" she shuddered as he took a step closer to her. "I fucking put a bullet through his fucking skull for you!" She closed her eyes and nodded. She felt her heart beat increase when he grabbed her hand and pulled her from the bedroom. Joe, Bodie and the rest of his men looked at them in confusion as Billy dragged her into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and stood her in front of the full length mirror. His fingers grabbed at the bottom of her tank top and pulled it roughly over her head leaving her in only her underwear. She never cared about being naked in front of him until now. "You see these," he pointed to a scar under her right breast, then another one down her right side, to one more on her inner left thigh before finally pointing to one on her lower stomach. She flinched; she'd rather forget her scars. "If it wasn't for me, these wouldn't have been the last you ever got." Her eyes bored into his through the reflection in the mirror. "If it wasn't for me, he'd have actually managed to rape you," she shuddered and the tears began to build once more. Why was he doing this to her? He knew remembering made her weak. He knew she never wanted to think about it. "If it wasn't for me...you'd be dead." His voice was low and unkind and she turned on her heel and slapped him as hard as she could.
"I fucking hate you."
