Chapter One.
Finn sat on the porch, cigarette in hand waiting for news. Would he have a job this week? He never knew. Sam said he hit the jackpot with this next client but Finn never knew. How many times had the 'struck gold'. Finn saw Sam's Chrysler Imperial pull up into his place. Finn put out his cigarette and flicked it into the driveway as he went to meet his friend.
"My man." Sam grinned at his buddy.
"How's it going, Evans? What do you have for us?"
Sam's smile grew wider, "I've got us a gig, Finn. This is it, pal. This is the big time."
Finn grinned back at him, something in Sam's smile made Finn believe him. "Good, because I bought a month supply. Where are we going?"
"Chicago."
"No man." Finn shook his head, "They've got the street lined with bull."
"Listen, the police got nothing on us." Sam assured him with a pat on the back. "We've just got to keep our school boys looks about us and travel during the day. If we want to make money, we've got to take risks."
Fin sighed, "I just don't want to be on the lam at 23."
"I'm not going to let that happen." Sam told his friend, "Let's get you packed and then we'll pick up the juice. This dive can't live on moonshine forever." Sam laughed. "And you and I, my friend. We've got the good stuff."
Finn laughed and packed his things, "If you say so, buddy."
Sam and Finn were on the road within an hour or so, packing the cab and trunk with plenty of alcohol to get the speakeasy through the week. "We'll have to take weekly trips." Sam told Finn, "But when we're down there, they promised room and board but we can't drink this, we've got to bring our own or buy our own."
"Sounds reasonable." Finn nodded.
"The man who runs it is a funny old bird. But he's got some great talent in that little place. There is this broad there." Sam paused with a huge doppy grin on his face, "I can't explain it, she's amazing, man. She's not bad on the eyes either." Sam winked at his buddy. "And maybe we'll find you a dame, too. Huh?"
Finn laughed, "I don't need another thing to worry about, Sammy boy. I'll leave the dating to you. I'm just in this for the jack." Finn said honestly, and it was true. All he was interested in was getting the money to send home to his mother. She couldn't work anymore due to a bad back and his father has been gone for years. She needed him, and he needed the job.
Bootlegging wasn't the best job, it wasn't the easiest, and it sure as hell wasn't the smartest. But, it got him the most money the quickest and Finn had gotten an in with a friend in Canada that supplied the liquor. Ever since the prohibition, it seemed like organized crime was the only way to get cash. And Finn needed the cash.
"Tell Puckerman to stay on the ready, we'll need more before the month is out." Sam told him as they drove.
Finn nodded, "I'll tell him on the next run, it's not hard for him to get."
Sam was proud of the job they ran, their innocent looks and boyish charm had gotten them out of every bind and he continued to believe that would be enough. Finn wasn't so ignorant.
Sam laughed again, "I can't even explain this dame. She sang like a dream, Finn. I'm telling you, I'm going to be caught necking with her before the week is out."
Finn scoffed, "Okay, get caught necking all you want. I just don't want to get caught in this juice joint."
"Trust me, we've got this one." Sam assured him, putting his hand on his back and patting reassuringly.
"Tell me about this place."
"Well, it's pretty nice for such a low key place. It's the second most popular joint in Chicago, which is good. You run the line being the bootlegger to the most popular." Sam explains, "The place is on the water so everyone wants to go there. We'll be staying above it. Right on the water, man. Right on the water."
"It's a dream." Finn finally admitted as the passed into Illinois.
"Attaboy." Sam shouted.
The boys beat their gums for the rest of the trip, staying at a motel outside of Chicago until morning. Finn wasn't comfortable driving in the city at night. If they acted like they had something to hide, people would think they did.
Finn had this theory that if you did it right in front of their face like you had not one thing to hide, that the police would just leave you alone. And Sam had to agree, it had worked so far.
Finn couldn't shake the feeling that something big was coming, he idly hoped it was a big pay out. But, something told him it was something else, something bigger. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe he'd meet a good looking jazz singer and he'd light up when he talked about her, just like Sam did.
A/N: Hey guys! Another story? Really? Yes! This is Kerry(bottomblainers) brain child once again so another collaborative effort from the girls who brought you What He Left Behind. :)
This is my first past fic so feedback is very appreciated.
Reviews are love. Finchel is love.