Notes: Dedicated to my homegirl and sometimes beta reader, shadowcatgirl09. She didn't beta this one because it's a gift to her, but she's helped me out with my chaptered fics FAMGI and night light, as well as some oneshots since editing and rewrites take me longest. Yay! This fic was inspired by a text post convo on Tumblr we had a while ago that just spiralled way out of control.
Title from a song of the same name by Blind Lemon Jefferson, released in 1928. Genre is Texas blues, so it's got a kinda country vibe if you listen. Fic is AH 1920s AU. Kai's nickname is "Mally" to some people here, because it wasn't really common to shorten a name using a syllable that wasn't the first. So Malachai became Mally like how Thomas becomes Tommy (to most people). Story takes place in 1923/24-1928 Mystic Falls. Kai was born in 1898 and Bonnie was born in 1902, they're 25 and 21 respectively when they meet. I did my best with temporal/locational lingo/accents (heavier with some characters than others) and trying to stay historically accurate in order to recreate that atmosphere, but I probably didn't catch it all, I'm no historian. Major discrepancies are likely intentional though, so history friends, pls don't skewer me.
READ! TWs: This fic will deal heavy with racism. Although I try to be as tasteful as possible, there's micro- and macro-aggressions abound and eventually some explicitly painful racist scenes. There is also sexism (even Kai is period typically sexist), homophobia, violence, PTSD/"shell shock", sex, and copious bouts of drinking and smoking. Like for real, Kai smokes like a chimney. Good things happen, but this is also kind of a(nother) dark fic, so be warned. If any of these bother you, don't read, it's cool. This fandom has a lot of great authors for you to enjoy.
~1/4~
"Now look here, Mally," Joshua Parker snaps his fingers before his eldest son's face. "It's important we get our supplies out to Rudy's saloon 'fore the new year, so I want you and your brother to run them out. Take that Italian boy you're always with with you, the black-haired one."
"And Joe?" Mally questions. The elder Parker scoffs.
"Let me worry about that fool. Get on, then!" Malachai has to hold back his own eye roll at his father's snappish command and instead grabs his cap, bellowing out his youngest brother's name as he makes his way out the house and to the car. He wasn't looking forward to spending the day with his space-head brother or his hot-headed friend, but alas business came first. Business first. Always.
Lucas is already out by the Buick, which Mally probably should have expected considering his younger brother's fascination with gas station attendant who ran out to help. The young man cranks the Buick and fills it with fuel. Mally watches Luke discreetly watch the attendant, but says nothing about it. It's none of his business. He only hopes Lucas isn't so damn obvious in front of those who would make it theirs. Mally closes his eyes and stretches slightly before he speaks.
"Pa wants us to do a run," he informs his younger, fairer brother. Luke turns his attention to him.
"To who?"
"Rudy's."
Luke looks fairly surprised and a lot appalled. "In the negro part of town?" he questions. "We might get lynched."
Mally pulls out his cigarette case and takes out a stick. Lighting it, he regards his brother. It makes sense for Luke to be wary, but if there was one thing the prohibition laws secured, it was unity in the need to get stupid drunk. Liquor knew no racial boundaries. Exhaling, Mally shakes his head.
"Don't be like that," he chastises into the cloud of smoke. "We're just gonna drop off the goods at the saloon, take the payment, and leave. Black folks need stiff drinks too. Probably more than us. They worry about lynchings more'n we do."
Popping his cigarette back in his mouth, he climbs into the driver's seat and waits for the attendant to give them the go ahead. The man shares one more indulgent smile with Luke, before Mally drives off to the Salvatore's warehouse to pick up Damon and the moonshine.
Rudy's is quietly packed when they come by to make their delivery, the saloon's patronage unsurprisingly integrated. Like Mally knew it would be. Booze, the great uniter.
Taking off his cap and sliding it into his suit inside pocket, Mally looks around the great room for Rudy. He has a feeling the imposing man would like likely be in the back, but it's never a bad idea to be aware of one's surroundings.
There's a swing jazz band playing and they're good, upbeat and energetic. The chatter and din of the saloon is comfortable, and Mally feels himself settling into the sinfulness like a warm bath. Damon slings an arm around him, looking just as at ease as Mally. Lucas looks like a fish out of water and Mally chuckles at his little brother's wide-eyed fascination. The downsides of sheltering the long-time baby in a family of rabble-rousers - he stands out like a sore thumb at work.
"We should stick around after the meet up," Damon murmurs, eying a beautiful brunette with long legs and doe-like eyes. She was clearly a prostitute, but she was also young and beautiful and looked like she was made of dreams. Damon's dreams at least. She was pretty, but not really Mally's type. Whatever his type was.
Mally shrugs. "S'not a good idea," he replies. The music dies down a little, transitioning smoothly into something more down-tempo and to Mally's preference. "I could perhaps be persuaded, though."
Damon grins at him, ruffling the back of his hair. "That's my boy!" he exclaims while Mally scowls and tries to fix the cowlick Damon's rough-housing no doubt gave him. Damn ruffian. Mally's eyes scan the saloon once more for Rudy, finally catching sight of him as he steps out from a supply room to stand behind the bar. Mally raises a hand to catch his attention.
Nudging Damon and Luke forward at Rudy's nod, Mally walks forward to shake the owner's hand.
"Mr. Hopkins," he greets. "Good to see you again, sir." Lucas looks surprised at Mally's formality (And God damn, the kid really has no poker face. Mally vows to rectify that because he'd be a limp corpse before someone got the goat on a Parker boy), but Damon is unruffled as per usual. Besides, Lucas was too young to get it - unlike the other three men, he didn't get drafted. War and facing down death together is the ultimate bonding experience.
Rudy takes his offered hand with a smile, his white teeth glowing against his dark skin. "Hey, Mally, good to see ya, son. How's yer pa?"
"Good, sir," Mally replies. "Still...himself." Rudy chuckles at that, loud and full-bodied. Even Luke gives a little smirk.
"Nice t' hear," Rudy replies. He side-eyes Damon, who leans back against the smirk.
"Hey-oh, Le Capitaine," he drawls. Rudy rolls his eyes. "I got something for you," Damon croons. "It's out back with my brother."
Rudy nods and draws them into an empty smoke room, closing the door. The sound of the music becomes muffled as the four of them settle down. Mally lights himself another cigarette, reluctantly passing the case to Luke when his brother motions for it. He watches as Damon pulls two silver flasks from the inside of his coat.
"A sample," he declares, passing one to Rudy and studying the burly man's reaction as he takes a swig. Rudy whistles.
"It's good," he declares. "Strong."
Damon grins. "Salvatore family recipe. The best white lightning this side of the Mississippi." Rudy takes another sip and passes it over to Mally, who take his own deep swill. Shit. He expects a full on beard in the morning. Luke declines to have any, giving the flask back to Damon who drowns the dregs.
"Try the gin," Damon tells Rudy with smug grin.
Like the whiskey, the gin makes it round the table, Luke once more declining. It's sweeter, more mellow, something a woman would like. Mally thinks he might nip a bottle for Josie.
Rudy crosses his arms and leans back. "And how much is this hooch gonna cost me?" he asks. Damon leans back as well, mirroring Rudy's position. His usually mischievous face goes serious.
"Thirty-five a gallon," he offers. Bold, Mally thinks as Rudy snorts.
"Boy, you tryna take me for a fool. I oughta throw you o'er my knee," he gripes as Damon fights to hold back a smile. "Eighteen," he counters. It's Damon's turn to scoff.
"Who taking who for a fool now?" the Italian man says. "Our juice is worth thirty at the very least."
Rudy chuckles. "Well, I ain't pay thirty a gallon for hooch unless it comes with the second coming of Jesus Christ himself. Twenty."
"Twenty-five."
"Twenty-three."
Damon considers it. "How many barrels you thinking?"
"With the new year comin'? And a crowd two, maybe three times bigger than tonight? Shit, about eleven whisky barrels at the least, and eight or nine o' gin, even watered down. People gonna want to celebrate."
Damon nods, deliberating. In his quiet, Mally can hear a woman's sultry voice crooning about longing for an unknown love. Her voice is accompanied by a piano and he closes his eyes, leaning back to soak it in, sucking the last bit of tobacco from his cigarette before putting it out. Stingy as he might be, Rudy had undeniably good taste in music and talent.
"And I take it this will be your standing price if all goes well?" Damon asks in the background. Mally cracks his eyes open slightly, discreetly watching the proceedings and taking in his brother's studious reactions. He taps his cigarette case Luke left on the table, mentally counting how many rolled sticks he has left. He decides to wait to light another.
"I may negotiate for a lower cost in return for a larger haul if it sells well."
Damon sighs. "It will. But understandable. Twenty-three's good for now. We got eight crates with us, five whisky, three gin. We can bring you twelve more tomorrow night. You pay for the eight tonight and the rest then."
"Deal." The two shake hands, then turn to the Parkers. "And you two?" Rudy addresses them.
Luke looks caught off-guard, glancing to Mally for guidance, who sits up with a sigh. No damn poker face at all. He waves for his brother to continue.
"Um," Luke starts. Mally tries very hard not to roll his eyes. "The usual fee. Ten percent for protection from you," Luke tells Rudy and looks towards his brother once more for confirmation, looking obviously relieved when Mally nodded. More confident, he turns to Damon. "The deal between us stands. Y'all use our land to make and store your stock and we get fifteen percent in all your sales for rent and transportation."
Both men grumble, but there was no denying the Parker boys reputation around these parts. If they wanted to keep away cops and competitors alike, having the local gang act as guard dogs was the best play to make. The Gemini gang kept other bootleggers from selling their own stuff and the Salvatore's got hooch monopoly in the city and surrounding areas. The local speakeasies paid the fee to the Gemini and they didn't have to worry about the police banging down their doors. Simple, easy, and beneficial to everyone.
Meeting adjourned, the four head go through a hidden door to the supply room, then outside to where Stefan and Joe were waiting in the ally by the speakeasy's backdoor.
"'Bout damn time," Joe gripes glaring at his brothers as they step out. Luke raises his arms in mock defense.
"You know how business goes," he jokes, as if he hadn't very nearly pissed himself in anxiety just two minutes ago. Mally doesn't bother holding back his eye-roll this time, lighting up another cigarette as he goes to help Stefan unload the Buick. The younger Salvatore gives him a shy smile while his own older brother takes payment from Rudy. Mally decides to pretend his own younger siblings don't exist while they bicker quietly in the background, acting as lookouts. Morons.
Carrying the crates into the bar supply room is quick work. When they finish, Mally takes the time to light his last cigarette before one of his brothers tries to swipe it or bum it while Stefan heads back outside to let the others know they were done. Waving out the match, he leans against the wall to take in the singer's voice and wait for the others to come in.
She's singing a dance number now, sounding just as great as before when she was crooning her heartache. Mally indulges himself; the woman must be a siren, because her voice had him absolutely beguiled. Rudy comes in, followed by the Salvatores and idiots one and two.
"Who's yer singer?" Mally asks. "She's good. Might stick around to listen."
Rudy beams in the kind of pride that tells Mally he knows the woman personally. "That's my daughter, Bonnie."
"You got yourself a daughter, Le Capitaine?" Damon teases. "Good thing she can sing, because if she looks anything like you...well then, poor thing."
Chest puffing out, Rudy looks indignant. "I'll box yer ears into yer fool head, damn cracker brat," he snaps. The rest watch in varying degrees of amusement and alarm. "Don't disrespect my girl."
Damon nods, mildly chagrined. "Sorry, you're right. My bad." Rudy deflates slightly, still looking annoyed and the six of them filter back into the smoking room.
"Git on out there," Rudy waves them off.
Damon hands Mally the Gemini cut before he disappears to do whatever it is Damon does when he's up to no good, while Stefan looks at his vanishing form with resignation. Joe and Luke take playful jabs at each other as they take a table near the front entrance where they can watch people come in and out. Good. At least they remembered how to look out for themselves.
Stepping out of the smoking room back into the general area, Mally takes a quick glance at the stage on his way to take a seat at the bar.
Then he takes another, longer look. In her shimmery, soft pink dress and cream fur shawl, Rudy's daughter Bonnie was a sight to behold as she chanted a rousing cheer in tune with the blaring clarinet. She did a little dance as she sang, her short dress - and damn, she was into the flapper trend so many birds liked, so it was short - twirling about her playfully. The material contrasted nicely to her skin and Mally has a sudden, invasive thought of what her bare skin would be like contrasted to his.
How can Rudy stand to have her up there looking like that?
Mally looks around. He's not the only man enraptured by Bonnie's looks; those seated and those up with dance partners all took chance looks at the woman singing when they could. Mally recognized that hunger because he could relate. He was that hunger.
Looking back up at the stage, there's a moment when Bonnie's eyes meet his and she smiles at him as she sings, before her gaze moves on. And damn, Goddamn if those few seconds didn't rob him of all his fucking senses, when her earthy green gaze took hold of his stormy blue.
And now he knows. His type is a woman named Bonnie Hopkins. The sudden ache at knowing she could never be his hits him like the shell he took in France and his jaw clenches.
Fuck.
"What's your problem, Kai?" Josie asks him, fed up with his attitude. Mally frowns at her from his prone position on her office couch. She'd interrupted prime wall-kicking time.
"I don't have one," he snaps. "And don't call me that, it sounds stupid." He's lying, of course. Not about the nickname, because that is stupid, but about his mood.
He's been crabby ever since the night of the first shipment at Rudy's Saloon. Hell, his mood is absolutely abysmal, rare form for him since he's usually pretty playful and calm, getting over his darker emotions quickly. For him to be so negative for so long was pretty out of the norm, and it made the majority of his many siblings and work colleagues avoidant, unsure of how to deal with the casually violent man when he was like this.
The majority. And of course Josie, his ever-observant twin, would be the first to call him out on his behavior.
"You're such a liar," she snaps. "Why are you moping?" She turns back to look over the finance reports their father was making her check the math on.
"I'm not," he says morosely, recalling Bonnie's pretty smile.
Josie sighs and really sets down the reports, turning the full power of her blue gaze on him.
"You can tell me," she assures. Then she mimes locking her lips and throwing away the key. "Special Secrecy Swear."
Mally's lips quirk reluctantly. "Fine," he groans, sitting up from the couch with a huff. "Since yer keepin' yer mouth shut - it's a girl."
Josie's face goes through several rapid expressions. She gets up quickly and joins him on the couch.
"Could it be?" she teases. "Malachai Parker, lovesick? Smitten? Oh, this is the cat's pajamas!" She slaps his leg a few times and Mally has to grab her hands to make her stop. "Well? Tell me about her!"
Her excitement throws him and he thinks that maybe he regrets this. But he's already revealed too much and if he doesn't divulge more to his sister, she's gonna hound him like an angry bee until he gives in. Mally sighs dramatically.
"She's Rudy's daughter," he mutters. Josie frowns at him.
"Rudy...Hopkins? Our customer Rudy Hopkins?" He can see her excitement turning to anger and he stops her assumptions in their tracks. No doubt if she thought he was doing anything to interfere with their business, she'd rat him out to Daddy, Special Secrecy Swear or not. Business first, always.
"It's not like that, sweetheart" he says. "I haven't even talked to her."
Josie deflates. "I'm confused then, why -?"
"You know why. Even if she wasn't Hopkins' brat, you think you'd still be excited for me if I told you I was wheelin' for a black girl?"
"Yes," she says simply, making her brother pause. "You've always been you, Mally, done what you liked without giving a damn what anyone else had to say about it. And when have any of us ever been like those those racist fucks?" The curse coming from her mouth makes him grin. "Like stupid John Gilbert? But Rudy's daughter? He's a good customer of ours Mally, you need to stay away from her."
Mally is quiet and Josie must see the sense warring with the devil in him. She switches tactics, pleading now instead of outright telling him what to do.
"If it was any girl else, Mally, I'd help you. But these times? And with Daddy always being about business first? It can only end badly for everyone involved Mally. Please let this go. Please leave her alone."
The younger twin clenches his jaw, but considers her plea seriously. He nods.
"I won't go after her," Mally acquiesces. Josie smiles and squeezes his hand heading back to her desk. Mally lies down again, throwing an arm over his eyes.
He won't go after Bonnie. It was for the best.
About two weeks later, Joshua wants Mally and Joe to run down to the Mill with him and Mally bites his tongue to avoid starting a fight. It's too early in the damn morning to come to blows with his father. At least not when he was driving a car.
Mally, to put it very fucking bluntly, cannot stand going to the Mill. It's Jonathan Gilbert's business, a small grocery store that supplied nearly all of Mystic Falls' residents with their needs. And Mally means all kinds of needs if you were the right kind of customer asking the right kind of questions.
He moves the cigarette in his mouth with his tongue, hands tight around the steering wheel. "And why are we going to the Mill today, Dad?"
Joshua glances aside to him, looking for the inkling of fight in his son. His son's temper has always been unpredictable, and flares up like a firecracker when it comes to a head, quick and explosive and dangerous when aimed at someone. But since the war, Mally's gotten a better hold of it, something that both puts Joshua ill-at-ease and makes him proud. Mally's driven and ambitious, with a head for business and balls so big he'd put a bull to shame. He'd also never shown a real desire to take over the family's little enterprise, so Joshua couldn't decide for sure whether to hedge his bets with him or Luke, who was just as smart if a little less charismatic and more green.
Seeing that Mally wasn't about to start passing out punches, he answers. "Jonathan Gilbert has been asked to provide entertainment for the Councilmen's meeting after the Founder's Ball. They're asking for new provisions."
"New provisions?" Mally echoes in a cloud of smoke. "And I suppose Gilbert is crawlin' to us to smuggle in these...provisions." He says the last word with a sneer, dropping his usual lazy drawl to pronounce the word fully. Joe shuffles uneasily in the back, sensing the storm behind his older brother's tone.
"You're smart, son," Joshua smiles disarmingly. "Yes, he needs our skills to get them here, not only into town, but to the meeting."
"So we're pimps now?" Mally asks bluntly. "Since when are we in the prostitution business?"
"We're in any business that gets our family on that council," Joshua snaps. He should've known - Mally was being almost nice. The younger Parker huffs and spits his cigarette butt out.
"Those fuckin' snobs are never gonna grant you a spot," Mally drawls. "But yah, keep dreamin', Pa, it's adorable."
Joshua almost smacks his disrespectful son, but decides instead to try to bargain with him. "I know you find prostitution distasteful-"
"No, I find smugglin' people distasteful," Mally interrupts. Joshua continues as if he hadn't spoken.
"But, it's only this once, the whores are a front to get us into the meeting. I have some valuable information to share with Mayor Lockwood that I think he'd like to hear - in exchange for getting me what I want. That's the real reason I've decided to take this on."
Mally still looks apoplectic, squeezing the steering wheel like he's imagining it's something else. Probably Joshua's neck if the greying Parker had to take a guess.
"C'mon, Mally, it's only once," Joe suddenly speaks up. "We don't ever gotta run women ever again."
"Shut up, Joe," Mally snaps, lighting up another cigarette as he waits for another car to pass while he's at a crossroads. Joe throws his hands up in exasperation, sitting back and obviously deciding to keep to himself for the rest of the ride.
"Mally, the women want the opportunity to make more money than they usually do. All we're doing is giving them a safe ride."
"There are other ways t' get what ya want, Dad," Mally says softly. "I still think yer being fuckin' ridiculous, wanting a spot on the Founder's Council, but we coulda figured somethin' else out. Instead of smugglin' in some whores who probably barely speak English so a few snobs can get their jollies off behind their wives' backs."
Joshua grimaces at his son's blunt vulgarity and Joe coughs in mild shock. Never holding back blows, his son.
"It's not the 'Founder's Council' it's a town council of elected officials." Mally scoffs at that proclamation. "Look son, I know your ambitions are bigger than this town, that you want to go legitimate and spread out," he tries to soothe. "But you know the work is never clean. Getting your foot in the door is the first step."
"Unless the door's a fuckin' bear trap," Mally mutters. His smoke fills the car as he grabs the burning stick out of his mouth and passes it to his younger brother who takes it, recognizing it as the peace offering it is: Mally never shares his cigarettes.
The older son lights up another for himself.
"And I fuckin' hate Jonathan Gilbert. I'm gonna end up killin' him myself one day."
"Well, it won't be today," Joshua says sternly, sitting back in the passenger's seat and looking out. "And it won't be before, during or immediately after the Founder's Ball either."
Mally's lips purse.
"We're going to run the whores. I'm going to talk to Lockwood. They're going to rig the next election in my favor and I'm getting on the Council. Then we're working up. Then you can kill him, just make it look like an accident."
Both of his sons shoot him a surprised look. Joshua shrugs.
"He's a fucking asshole," he says as Mally parks in front of the Mill. "Now let's go talk to him about business."
Mally stood outside the room while his dad and brother sat with John Gilbert to work out the details around the Great Whore Hustle of 1923. The idea of being in the same room as John Gilbert made his skin feel like it was covered in a rash, so he just listened to the conversation by the doorway, using the excuse of wanting to smoke freely as an excuse. It worked - the weasel-faced man couldn't stand cigarettes, which made Mally distrustful. What kind of man didn't smoke?
He chimed in every now and then with his opinion and every time his voice rings out, Gilbert looks at him with a mix of dislike and nervousness. No love lost there. By the time the conversation ends, he's only got four sticks left from the fifteen he rolled that morning. Stupid Jonathan.
"You coulda been nicer, Mally. Gilbert knows you don't like him," Joe whines when they leave. Mally gives him a dirty look as he climbs in the backseat, the one that tells him to keep talking and he'll get tossed out and left. Joe crosses his arms, pouting.
"Jus' sayin'. Pa's old - if he dies it's on you to run the business. Wouldn't hurt ya to be nicer."
"Hey!" Joshua protests, but Joe's inadvertent insult makes Mally grin.
"Calm down, ol' man," he tells his father. "You'll give yerself a stroke."
"I hate my children."
"Then why'd ya have so many?" Joe queries loudly. Joshua, scowls at both of his boys. Mally glances at him briefly as he drives, then points at his head.
"Is that - Pa, I think I just watched one of yer hairs turn grey!"
He bursts out laughing with Joe as their father's face reddens, even when he gets cuffed upside the head. It didn't hurt, he was too full of mirth to feel the sting.
"Pack of ingrates," Joshua mutters as he settles back in his seat.
From the corner of his eye, Mally sees the way his father sweeps a hand through his still dark hair, despite the man being in his mid-fifties. He shares a look with his brother, who snorts but neither say anything for fear of actually incurring their father's wrath. It was still too early in the morning to get into a fistfight with his father.
Instead, they stop by the warehouse where the Salvatore's keep their wares to check inventory. Damon, as usual, is happy to see them.
"Mally, Mally, finally some good company! I was tired of looking at these ugly sfigatos," the raven-haired man proclaims.
Stefan, who had come up to greet the Parkers, and Mally both snort at Damon's dramatics. One of their cousins speaks up to say something in Italian that Mally doesn't know, but still understood perfectly. Stefan sighs at his family's antics when Damon shouts back something in Italian that is no doubt just as derogatory.
"Good morning, Mr. Parker. Hi, Mally, Joe. How are you all this morning? Can I get you anything?" the youngest Salvatore asks.
Joshua beams at him. "No thank you son. You gonna tell me how you're the only one out of your no-good family with manners?"
"I resent that, Papa Parker" Damon says. "Those, cunts, I can see how ya would trash, but me? How do ya know I wasn't going to offer any refreshments?"
"Were you?" Mally asks, curious.
"Hell no, ya think I'm runnin' a hotel? You know where the hose is." Damon throws his arm over the taller Parkers shoulder.
Mally just scoffs and pushes him off.
"We came to run numbers."
"Yeah, yeah. Business first. We know how you Gems operate. C'mon, Stef."
The Salvatores lead them to the warehouse's office, a small glassed off room on the upper level that looked down on the different areas of the warehouse. Damon hands Joshua some papers.
"So those are the production numbers - crops we were able to harvest, crops we had to toss, rye that your boys brought in for the whiskey. As you can see," he waves down at the barrels in various states of production. "You can see the interim product. We have about 7 barrels of whiskey ready to pour. Gin is more popular up north, but the ladies 'round these parts do love themselves some gin and tonic, so we have three full barrels of those ready to pour as well.
"Rudy Hopkin's one of our best customers," Damon pauses. "You ever hear his girl sing Papa Parker?"
Mally looks up at him sharply, then shifts his gaze to Pa, who shakes his head.
"Ah, you gotta stop in at some point. Girl has pipes, Mally's in love," Damon winks at younger Parker. "You know how he likes music."
Mally glares at Damon, while Joshua just looks between them dubiously.
"I do," he says, dragging out the second syllable dubiously. "Rudy's girl, is she pretty?"
Damon grins wide and waggles his eyebrows. Mally rolls his eyes.
"She's alright."
"Uh-huh," the collective group says. Even Stefan. Mally feels betrayed.
"Don't do nothing stupid," Joshua warns.
"I won't!" Mally protests. He catches himself. "I don't even know what the hell you mean."
"Uh-huh," gets chorused at him again. Mally just shoots his dirtiest look at Damon. Fucking Italians.
They finish discussing the numbers and which speakeasies to run them out to. Rudy's Saloon easily has the most shipments, being the most popular and after Joshua checks his copies of the reports against the originals, the Parkers roll out with the promise of returning that night. Next stop, the justice building so Joshua can check the police bribes and make sure the commissioner is still willing to look the other way as they make their runs.
Mally's met with the commissioner and the sheriff at least a dozen times each, both as a trouble-making lad and as a young businessman. Neither man likes him much, and the dour mood Damon put him in makes him unfit for their type of company. He opts to wait by the car, while his family makes this stop.
Joshua stares at him, eyebrow raised when he suggests this.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Then why are ya starin' at me like that, Pa?"
"No reason."
Mally scowls and Joshua smiles.
"This girl the reason you been so bent out of shape these past few days?" Mally's scowl deepens.
"I didn't even know you liked her," Joe speaks up.
"I don't. Damon's a dumbass."
"Uh-huh," Mally rolls his eyes at their judgement.
"Look son, you're a grown man. So long as you don't do anything to interfere with business, what you do on your own time is none of my concern."
Mally and Joe both look at their father in surprise.
"She's a customer's kid," Joe protests softly. His voice drops lower and he shifts uncomfortably. "And she's...you know?"
"She's what?" Mally asks quietly. Deadly. Joe stares at him, clearly ill-at-ease.
"A negro."
Joshua smacks him before Mally can, which Joe should take as a blessing. He'd probably have a broken face instead of a bruised one if Mally had struck him.
"Rudy's a good man, and a business affiliation. It don't matter that he's black. I thought you fought in the damn war - you'd be dead if it weren't for him."
"It's not me, Pa! It's not!" he reiterates loudly when Mally starts to turn towards him. "I'm just sayin' this town? These people? The negros keep t' themselves for a reason, Mally and you sniffin' after one their skirts - hell, the skirt if we're bein' honest - it ain't gonna go well, not for her folks or ours."
Mally throws his hands up.
"I'm not sniffin' after any birds. I don't even talk to her. And I already promised Josie to leave 'er alone, so I really don't know what y'all are fussin' for."
"Josie knows?" Joshua looks perturbed. Not for the first time in his life, Mally wonders if it's too late to switch families. Maybe the Forbes. They seemed nice.
"You really thought I'd tell Damon before Josie? Damon is just trying to be annoying, he doesn't know anything."
"Mally," the disapproving tone Joshua affects irritates Mally. "You know better than to pull your sister into any shenanigans. She's a bookie, all she does is check numbers."
"You just said - ya know what? I ain't done nothing. I'm not gonna do nothing. So just leave me alone. Go talk to the commissioner. Business first, always. Right?"
Mally's mood is black enough when he spits that out, that both Joshua and Joseph are surprised by the venom. Joshua eyes him, annoyed, but the eldest Parker knows how to pick his battles.
"I'll drop it," the for now is heavily implied. "I'm actually going to lunch with the commissioner. I'll have a driver take Joey and me back. Why don't you go for a drive? Maybe check with some of our other customers, see if they're satisfied with our services or want to renegotiate."
The eldest son stares at his father, stormy eyes clashing with stormy eyes.
"Fine," he sighs. "I'll see you later."
He waits until they disappear into the justice building before driving off.
He ends up at Rudy's. Of course he does.
The speakeasy aspect is well hidden during the daytime, the back rooms walled off and the dancehall filled with more tables, hidden behind the front of a homestyle restaurant. He decides to just eat while he's there. Rudy's makes some damn good country fried steak.
He's not an uncommon sight around these parts and a small sea of brown faces look him over; some friendly, some cold, none of them surprised. Mally just smiles and takes his usual seat, picking apart the newspaper he bought from a kid outside. Someone will tell Rudy he's around, but no one will interact with him directly if they could help it.
That was probably more about the Gemini tattoo on his wrist than his skin.
So it's unexpected someone stops by to take his order.
"Welcome to Rudy's, sir. What can I get for you?" a melodious - and painfully familiar - voice inquires.
Mally looks up from the paper into dancing green eyes. Bonnie looks different in the daylight, dressed in a long server's dress and a blue apron, shrouded by the sun. She's still just as beautiful as she is in a smokey din wearing her short, flapper dresses. The familiar feeling of being struck by lightning hits him and he shifts in his chair, looking back down. He's torn.
He told Josie he wouldn't go after Bonnie. Pa didn't care, so long as his little crush (because that's all his father thought it was) didn't interfere with the family business and that didn't sit right with Mally, so he still told himself to do nothing.
But he hadn't accounted for her coming after him. So that doesn't count, does it?
He smiles brightly at the paper then brings the expression up to her. She seems surprised by his jolly.
"Yer Bonnie, right? Yer pa around? I wanted to talk with him."
She licks her lips. Mally's eyes can't help but to track the movement and he swallows, shifting again.
"He's out right now. You can talk to me."
Mally raises his brow at her. "You don't think yer pa will be just a little mad at me, talking to his little girl about men's business?"
Green eyes flash, and wow, anger looks good on her. Mally vows to make her as mad as she can stand. If he has to push her away, he wants to enjoy the sight.
"I'm not a little girl," she retorts. Mally tips his head and peruses her body slowly, dragging his gaze up and down in an obviously lascivious manner. Then he turns his head away, back to the paper, clearly dismissive.
"You sure?" he murmurs. Bonnie huffs and the chair across from him scraps as she takes a seat.
"What do you want?"
"To talk to your father, Miss Hopkins," he enunciates slowly, dropping his drawl and flipping through the paper.
"Bennett."
"What?"
"It's Miss Bennett. Not Miss Hopkins." Mally looks at her in confusion.
"You don't have yer father's name?"
"No," she holds her head up, chin tilted stubbornly. A part of Mally wants to grip it while he necks her. The other part of him just wants her to go away and take this feeling with her. "I have my grandmother's. Bennett. Daddy has a boy, but my mama's family doesn't. Bennett name goes through the women."
"Strange tradition."
"About as strange as pretty Southern white boys with zodiac tattoos. Don't you worry God will smite you for the paganism?"
"Don't believe in God."
"That's a shame."
"Why?"
"Ungodly men who live in ungodly ways don't ever find eternal life."
Mally smiles at her again. "Well angel, thanks for the concern, but the only life I'm worried about is this one."
He pulls out his cigarette case and offers her one. Bonnie shakes her head.
"We have a strict no smoking policy," she informs with a straight face as he moves to put the roll in his mouth.
Mally pauses, looking around. There were clearly other smokers; an elderly man in the corner was puffing on a pipe just across from them. Staring at him pointedly, Mally puts the cigarette back in his case.
"Isn't lying a sin?"
"Only when you're doing it for self gain."
"Yeah? And you not letting me smoke is being selfless?"
"It is. You'll thank me someday when you're not coughing up tar."
"But that's the best part," he pouts.
Bonnie laughs and Mally finds it fascinating, the way her cheeks pull back and her malachite eyes glow. Her oddly straight, white teeth gleam and her laugh is as melodious as her the rest of her vocalizations.
He's so fucked.
"Daddy's really not here. He's visiting my Aunt Thelma, their mama's birthday is coming up. You can stay and eat if you want, but if you need to see him, he won't be back until tomorrow," she props her chin on her palm. "When the saloon opens. Which I'm assuming is what you wanted to talk about?"
"That's men's business."
Bonnie sighs. "So what's my biggest offense, being a delicate woman or being a little girl? I can't be both."
"Can't you?" Mally teases.
"I already know all I need to about the saloon, Mr. Parker. I know you know that. Daddy's away, so I'm in charge."
"Little you, holding down the fort."
"Yup. Little, old me."
Mally scoffs - she's probably only a few good years younger than him, around Lucas's age - but he concedes.
"Your pa ordered forty gallon crates for the upcoming week. I just came to check the order and get the first half of the pavement."
"He left it for you," she says, surprising him. "Figured one of you boys might stop by. He still wants the forty"
"Why didn't you just tell me that?"
"Well," she smiles. "You were so insistent on it being men's business. Besides, I wanted to see for myself."
"See what?"
Bonnie falls silent. Her chin is still held up by one hand, while the other traces invisible patterns on the table with a finger. She seems to be considering her answer carefully, so Mally bids himself to be patient, drinking in the sight of her with thirsty eyes instead. If he had any artistic talent, he'd paint a damn picture of her, she looked so pretty.
"Every few nights, this man walks into the saloon. He's working, so he's good at hiding it, but he always stares at me, especially when I sing. And I'm used to being looked at, but this man," she peers up at him through her lashes, watching him watch her. Her voice is quiet when she finishes.
"He always looks at me like he's hoping I'm the last thing he'll ever see. I just wanted to see what he was like."
Inside the cage of his bones, Mally's heart constricts. His soul does something similar. He stares at the little Bennett woman and she stares right back.
He folds the newspaper and stands - he needs to leave, before he does something stupid. Like drag Bonnie across the table to taste her mouth. If he does shit like that around here, he's gonna get killed, Parker name or not.
"I'll be back for the payment tonight," his voice is rough and he clears his throat. "With my brother. Just need you to sign off on the papers and we'll start the run when you're ready."
"Goodbye, Mr. Parker," her melodious voice says as he straightens his suit jacket. She doesn't turn to face him. "I'll be seeing you."
"Goodbye, Miss Bennett," he tells her and walks away.
He doesn't return that night. He finishes his run with two other speakeasies in Gemini territory, then sends Joe and Lucas, because he knows they'll be perfect gentlemen, after informing them that they'll have to conduct business with Bonnie.
"She's a woman," Lucas said, appalled.
"Well, Rudy ain't around, and we need to conduct business," Mally snapped. "She's not stupid, don't let her give you the run around, just have her sign and pay and then let her know the shipment will be hauled in tomorrow before the saloon opens."
"You should've done that earlier, Mally," Lucas sighs, frustrated with his brother. Joe says nothing, just stares at his older brother, who scowls at the youngest of the trio. He intervenes before Lucas gets stepped on.
"Yeah, we'll go. We know how you hate doing business with ladies, Mr. Chivalry," he teases. Lucas scoffs.
"Like I enjoy it," the blonde mutters. He follows along as Joey drags him to the Buick, not at all caring about his biggest brother's horrid mood as he cusses him out for the inconvenience.
As they walk of, Mally can hear Joe his at Lucas to shut up. "He's in an awful temper, do you want him to tan yer ass? Idiot."
Mally sighs and walks inside the family home. Josie is off at her new house with her husband, more than likely doing their utmost to add to the family name. Livvy is out doing whatever it is she shouldn't be doing at night. Joshua is locked away in his study, and Mally has no desire to go see his father. He stops by the triplets room on his way to his own - the littlest Parkers are all knocked out, dogpiled in their bed like the litter they are.
Their family's tendency to produce twins and triplets is what pushed the Parkers to call themselves the Gemini Syndicate back in the 1870s when the gang was first pulled together. Joshua Parker was a twin, his identical brother having been long lost to violence and of his eight children, only Joseph, their mother's second pregnancy, was the lone birth. Malachai and Josette, Lucas and Olivia, and lastly Andrew, Arthur, and Helena were all groupings. It's no wonder Joshua ended up being all work and no play with so many mouths to feed.
Mally slips out of the triplets room before one of the three woke up and the whole pack of toddlers was on him. His mother had given birth while he'd been away in France - his father's heart condition meant he couldn't be drafted, so while Mally and Joe were off fighting Commies, he took to keeping his wife company. The pregnancy was rough on Agatha Parker, coming while she was older and well after she hadn't been pregnant for some time. She died shortly after Andy was born. Alaric, Josie's doctor husband, had to cut Helena out.
The eldest Parker sibling adores his youngest siblings, they were all he had left of his mom, but whenever they're around, Pa gets stiff and distant. He misses his wife and the triplets are a reminder of why she's gone. Even Lucas and Olivia, who were young enough to still be hanging around the house when she died, treat the triplets with some frigidity. Mally wonders if they know they even do it.
So the older siblings take it on themselves to spoil the wee brats rotten. Mally is their favorite, little kids always did like him, but tonight Mally needs space to himself.
He strips and bathes, then tucks himself in bed, trying to purge the memory of Bonnie haloed by sunlight and tracing figures on the dining table.
That night, like many others, he dreams of battlefields.
He doesn't go to Rudy's for days, Joe or one of the Salvatore's taking his place while he tries to pull himself together. The tall Gemini isn't fit for company, getting broodier the more he tries to isolate himself until finally Josette snaps at him.
"Stop hanging around my house!" she snarls, shoving at her tempestuous brother. "Look, Pa said go for it, so you don't have to keep your promise to me okay? Now get!"
Mally scowls at his sister, making sure she sees him adjust his gun as he pulls his jacket from the coat rack. His anger makes his drawl recede.
"Just because you both have different stances, doesn't mean your warnings weren't put up for the same good reasons. It is poor business practice, not to mention other reasons why pursuing Rudy Hopkins's daughter is a bad idea."
Josie stops trying to beat him and looks him over. Her angry eyes soften.
"Oh, God," she retreats slightly, looking forlorn. "You're serious."
"About what?"
"Bonnie. You love her."
Mally scowls. "That's a stretch."
"Is it?"
"I only ever talked to her once, Josie," Mally sighs.
"Well, talk to her again!"
"What?"
"Look, Pa doesn't think you're serious, he thinks you've just got a tug in your balls for a pretty girl. He thinks if you do it right, you can have your cake and eat it too."
Mally frowns. "I know what Pa thinks, and I wouldn't do that to Rudy. He's my...he saved my life, Josie. Me, Joe, and Damon, we'd all be dead if it weren't for Rudy."
"And you're in love with his daughter."
"Josie, stop -"
"Look, I'm with Pa on this, you can have your cake and eat it too."
"Josie!"
"Not like that," Josie glares at him. "Just...I know things will never be the way you want with her, but we're Parkers. You're Mally, when have you ever given a damn what others think?"
"She could die, Josie, if anyone thought I wanted to do anything more than fuck her."
"No one else has to know. If she's a Parker, she's family, we'll protect her."
Her words steal away Mally's breath. He pauses in pulling his jacket on.
"That's not funny, Josette," he turns away from his sister and straightens the lines of his suit.
"I'm not pulling your leg, Mally. I know you; you've never been like this over a woman. You will never be like this over someone again. And I know you don't really think about marriage and family, but do you think you can live never feeling like this about anyone again?"
Mally stares at his twin sister, reads the seriousness in her face. His breath, when it comes to him, is ragged. He can't tell if he wants to hug his sister or hurt her for the clandestine and frankly insane suggestion, she's making.
"That shit's illegal, Josie."
"So is bootlegging, whoring, and rigging elections."
"That's the type of illegal folks will look the other way for! This will get Bonnie killed! And it's just - even if she and Rudy said yes, that's not fair to do to her. Don't say shit like this to me."
"We can protect her!"
"Josie," Mally groans turning away from her. "Just stop, alright?"
He leaves, like she requested earlier, before she can open her big piehole again.
Her words echo around his mind like angry spirits all day.
Josie's words haunt him. Make him angry. Make him hopeful. Make him stupid.
He goes to Rudy's that night.
Rudy's is, as it usually is, packed. People work and go to church during the day, but really people want to throw their lives away through their vices. Mally strongly doubts he is the only ungodly man Bonnie has ever met.
She isn't singing when he arrives; she isn't anywhere in sight and Mally can't decide if he feels relieved or disappointed by that.
There are no other Gemini around, not any of his brothers or the men that work for his father and Mally actually finds some comfort in being solo. He takes a seat at the bar and the man working it, a light-skinned black man with blue eyes takes one look at him and pours him a glassy of the whiskey Mally helps smuggle in.
"On the house, man," he says and turns to someone else when Mally nods his thanks. He takes a sip of the Salvatore's moonshine before pulling out one of his ever present cigarettes to light.
Mally's only taken one puff when a slender, brown hand plucks it from his mouth.
"I told you, this is a no smoking facility," Bonnie tells him, grabbing an ashtray from over the bar counter and putting the cigarette out gently before handing the snuffed stick back to him. The Gemini gangster quirks his brow at her.
"Yer very brave or very dumb," he informs her. She smiles.
"I like to consider myself principled," she says.
The woman is once more in her flapper-like attire, a slinky, beaded black dress clinging to her curves, a matching black feathered cap, and a black shawl thrown over her elbows. Her lips are red like cherries tho and so are the kitten heels that do little to add to her height. Oddly enough, her colors match his own preferred black suit and red tie uniform. It actually hurts Mally to look at her, so he turns his attention back to his drink, willing the lump in his chest to wither and die.
"Ya singing t'night?" he murmurs and sips the whiskey.
She takes the seat next to him and once more props her face up with her hand.
"Do you want me to?"
"Ya always questions with more questions?"
"Only when the person asking the questions is too afraid to ask for what they really want."
Mally puts his drink down and turns to face her fully. He narrows his eyes on her face, trying to discern if she was fucking with him or not. Most women around this part of Mystic Falls don't engage him, not even the braver prostitutes. He wasn't a savage, but he knows his reputation for violence precedes him. Not many women, especially black women, wanted anything to do with a violent white gang member. And as much as he knows Rudy likes him, he has no doubt the man would warn his only daughter to steer clear of his path.
Her green eyes narrow back at him. Heat flashes through Mally's body
"You're doing it again," she murmurs. Her voice, melodious and sultry, teases Mally and he smiles to himself bitterly.
"'M doin' what?" he wonders. Being tortured, perhaps?
Bonnie blinks and a tiny smile slides over her face. She catches his eyes with hers, gaze challenging and spirited as she leans closer. Her perfume wafts towards him, something floral and sweet. The tall Parker's nostrils flare.
"Staring at me."
Mally doesn't look away this time, brows furrowed. He's not sure when the smile leaves her face or when they drift closer or how their intense staring contest must look to outsiders, but the bartender who served him before suddenly clears his throat.
The two pull away from each other and Mally turns back to his drink. The bartender frowns at them.
"Everything okay here?" he asks. Bonnie smiles.
"Everything's fine, Jamie."
The bartender nods his head slowly, clearly disbelieving but willing to trust Bonnie. He turns away after shooting Mally a pointed look. The stormy-eyed Gemini finishes his drink and places a few dollars on the varnished wood.
"I should go," he says, putting his empty whiskey glass down over the money.
"Okay," Bonnie says simply. "Where are we going?"
Mally sends her a sharp look.
"What?"
She smiles at him.
"I haven't sung tonight, Mr. Parker. I thought that was your favorite part of visiting our establishment."
Mally's jaw clenches and he studies her face again, trying to get a read on what the hell she was thinking. He shakes his head when he can't make any connections, pulling a face of discomfiture.
"What the hell you doin' girl?" he sighs.
"I'm just offering to sing for you Mr. Parker. You don't want to hang around and I could use some air," she nods to Jamie. "My brother and Daddy can hold down the fort, they don't need little, old me tonight."
He'd promised Josie and his dad he wouldn't do anything to interfere with business, told Jo he was going to leave the girl alone because it wouldn't work out. Despite all that he did for himself, because he could give two shits about what other people thought, the idea of being the reason any harm came to Bonnie… That thought left the normally fearless man terrified. So his words to his family? Just an excuse he used to keep himself away from someone he knew he shouldn't touch.
But fuck, Bonnie was making him forget his reasons, and with Josie's words from earlier, he feels almost like he can have what he wants.
Mally taps the bar top with his fingers. He stares at Bonnie.
"'M goin' home," he states, watching her. She nods, seemingly undisturbed by the thought.
"Gemini Manor, I presume?"
"Yes."
"Pretty isolated, your home."
The breath that Mally drags into his lungs is ragged.
"Yes," he says, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat, looking down at her red shoes.
"I always wondered what the inside of the notorious Parker family's home looked like. I don't suppose you have a billiard room? I do enjoy playing billiards."
The tall man smiles slightly, blinking a few times at the floor as a war ensues within him. What he should do and what he wants to do tug at his heart, pulling him to pieces. He breaks. He makes up his mind.
Meeting her eyes, he says lowly.
"Funny. I enjoy winning billiards."
She's good at billiards. He watches her lean over and align her cue before she takes her shot. Two stripes sink. The pretty songbird smiles triumphantly.
"Mr. Parker, if you don't start playing really soon, I'm going to think you don't want to hear me sing. Then my feelings will be hurt."
Mally scoffs, rubbing his neck, but remains otherwise silent.
She's referring to their little bet - she'd fell in love with his car when he drove them back to his home and asked to drive it if she want. If he won, she'd sing any song he'd like to hear and even let him dance with her if she felt so accommodating.
So far, Mally was losing by several turns and wasn't really interested in playing for keeps. If she sang in his house, just for him, on his side of the house where no one ever bothered him at night - he was going to fucking lose control of himself.
And Mally was trying really goddamn hard to be a gentleman.
His internal back-and-forth was giving him whiplash. Wanting her in his space one moment and wanting her far away the next was getting tiring. Anger at his own weakness washes over him now that he's alone with her, unsupervised. He could do anything to her, if he wanted; she wouldn't be able to stop him.
But she's his friend and business associate's daughter. He has to behave himself.
Bonnie sinks another stripe, but misses the one after, so it's Mally's turn. He has three solids left, but she only has the one stipe. He can win the game if he focuses, but at the same time he's not sure he wants to.
Topsy-turvy. He's unused to being so indecisive.
"Mr. Parker?" Bonnie's voice asks him softly. A gentle hand lands on his arm, bringing him out of his glassy-eyed stupor. He blinks at her.
"Are you feeling unwell?"
She's closer than he expected and she's just...so small and looking up at him with green eyes soft with concern. She looks like so much woman wrapped in her dark and Mally's weak, he is so damn weak.
The pool stick in he was holding clatters to the ground when he releases in favor of grasping at her. His body presses hers to the billiard table and a gasp escapes her, the pool stick in her own hand rising up slightly. Mally pauses at the apprehension dancing behind her gaze, tilts his head slightly to look at the cue she has poised to strike him, contemplative. It's a paltry weapon, if he wants to take what he wants, but her instinct to fight honestly intoxicates him. Swallowing back his lust, he turns back to her, his face leaning in slowly. They hold each other's gazes.
"Ya gonna hit me with that?"
"Depends," she breathes back. Her tense body relaxes slightly, letting Mally press in closer to her. Her petite body is warm against his and he's sure she can feel the hardness beneath his slacks. He does after all, have it rudely against her thigh.
"On what?"
"What you do next," she peers up at him, studying him carefully. Her pretty face tilts defiantly. "If you hurt me, you'll regret it."
Mally grins, blue-grey eyes darting over her face. He watches her as he carefully enunciates his next sentence.
"I don't want to hurt you. I want you to kiss me."
He hears her breath leave her in a soft huff and several emotions run over face. But this is it. Mally won't make another move from here, if she pushes him away, he'll let her go. He will. He will. But if she leans in, like she is, if her eyes close, like they are, if her mouth presses to his, like it does, if she pulls his body closer and wrap her arms around him the way she is, just like that, yes...
His hear thumps painfully in his chest, then stills, quiet so that Mally can fully savor the moment his entire life garners meaning.
Mally won't be able to let her go. He won't.
AN2: So this motherfucker is long? Like stoooopid long? So I'm breaking it up into 3 parts, all of which will be up by the end of the week.