Okay, so the reason I haven't been working on 'Dirty American' is because I really didn't like the way the story was going so, I've decided to start over and now that I have a grip on what I want it to be, I hope you'll all give it a second chance. Thank you! I do not own anything
Pilot
The hustler keeps on hustlin' me
Doin' what I wanna cuse' I got to be free
The devil is a woman and she took my soul
Claws in me, she won't let me go
- The Devil is a Woman
She rolled down the window and turned down the radio, a calm and cool breeze coming from the desert sand. Her 1980 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am sounded as if it was out of breath, as she drove down the dirt road. Olga couldn't complain, she picked it up on her way into Rio Vista, CA. for a pretty reasonable price. She had been driving non-stop for about two days, showering at local truck stops, when her last car gave up on her and left her almost in the middle of nowhere, next to a little junkyard. She found the Trans am's golden eagle to be beautiful and sharp. She didn't seem to have any other choice, it was the only working car in the wasteland anyway. Olga was happy enough with it, and took off with no set destination.
A few hours after the sun had set Olga looked over to a sign that read, 'Now Exiting Rio Vista, CA.' Underneath told her that a town called Charming was around 60 miles ahead of her. she had a laugh and a small smile, a town called charming couldn't be all that bad. She was growing tired of driving for so long, she needed a rest in one spot, even if just for a short while. A flashy red sign caught her attention, "White buffalos Bar, one drink couldn't hurt." she told herself and turned into the parking lot.
The smell of cigars and whiskey brought her home, she shook her head and fixed herself, bringing the reality of her situation to mind wasn't going to do her any good. Alcohol first. she strutted up to the bar, ignoring the open stares and sneers. Olga felt a shiver of excitement pass through her, letting a devilish smirk play at her lips and her eyes narrowed in at the alcohol lined in rows behind the bartenders head. She let her hand slide over her Colt Diamondback beneath her brown leather jacket, tucked into her boot cut jeans. A gift from her grandfather when she was still young and learning how to shoot, she went nowhere without it. Seating herself she motioned the bartender, in her thick accent she spoke, "Whiskey." the man gave her a curious look-over before turning around. "Well, hello there doll." Olga rolled her eyes before turning them sideways to the man next to her. The man held his arm up and signaled the bartender to give him a round of what she was having. He showed her a smile that resembled a snarl, with wild black hair, and an icy blue stare. Some women might find that attractive, all Olga could think was; snake. "tol'ko to, chto mne nuzhno.." Olga sighed. "You're not from around here are ya' doll." The man joked, Olga replied in sarcasm, "Now what gave you that idea?" She scowled, the man cackled. "You reek of foreign pussy." The idiots response made her tense and turn to the man with a fierce glare. "Vy nevezhestvenny svinoy! How dare you!" She spat. The man let out a bark of laughter, before he could reply a whistle pierced through the bar and a heavy Scottish accent followed, "Tiggy! hurry up with those beers!" Olga turned to the man who spoke and noticed he wasn't alone. A group of men clad in biker gear sat around a pool table, they reminded her of a pack of wolves. The man, 'Tig', flipped the guy off and turned back to her. " How bout' you play around with us and make some money?" He grinned at her. "Go fuck yourself," she stated simply and turned to her drink. "Aw now don't be like tha-" before his hand reached her arm she turned in the stool and had her gun looked right between his eyes. He let out a wild laugh, "ooh shit I think I'm in love!" he continued to laugh and Olga smiled threateningly. A gun cocked behind her head, "Drop it," The rasp and pure masculinity of the voice behind her made her eyes want to roll into the back of her head. She felt the gun to her head push further into her scalp, and she sighed before lowering her gun. "Ah, don' worry Hap, foreign girl and I were just havin' some fun, right doll?" Tig winked at her, "You could say that." She nodded, and turned around as she felt the gun behind her lower.
Happy Lowman wasn't a man who got caught off guard, but those fierce eyes belonging to the bitch in front of him certainly did just that. He saw eyes like that every time he looked in a mirror, they were cold, merciless; they screamed fighter. He felt himself grow slightly hard from those eyes. " Can't take you fucking brats anywhere," A voice belonging to a heavy-set man grumbled. "The fuck's that mean Piney?" Tig growled to the older male standing next to Happy. "My job was to make sure you assholes made it back in one piece, I don't want Gemma's rath brought down on me anymore than you fuckers do. Lets get goin' before we're late." The man turned and headed to the door where the Scottish man and another were waiting. Happy peered into those eyes one last time before turning away, Olga let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, when she felt a hand slap on her shoulder. "Until next time doll." Tig grinned at her and she gave a small nod. She watched the group of men leave until the door was shut, "You're one crazy bitch" the bartender acknowledged, she let out a small laugh and took a drink.
tol'ko to, chto mne nuzhno - Just what I need
Vy nevezhestvenny svinoy - You ignorant swine