A/N This chap is really short.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and added this story to their alerts and favourites.
Reviews are greatly accepted, as they spur me on to write.
And thanks to my incredible beta Wisery.
One week later.
The week had gone by fast, and I was quickly growing accustomed to Billy being at the bar. Out of the six shifts I'd worked that week, he had come in at least three times, and I was slowly becoming more relaxed around him. He still scared me though. His fearsome demeanor and his intense eyes still made me nervous, and I knew that he knew that too. Personally, I think that he enjoyed knowing it.
Joe had never turned up for our 'drinking session' - not that I'd expected him to. It was all just playful banter, but he had tried to convince me to mud wrestle his latest girlfriend. I had gracefully declined.
I was sitting on the rickety wooden stool by the breakfast bar and reading a magazine, still in my pajamas at 12:30pm. I had the whole day off, no money, and, being a Saturday, no college to go to either.
Trigger's bedroom door opened, and he strolled out in nothing but grey boxers whilst scratching his arse and yawning. He made his way over to the kitchen and sat down next to me on the other unstable stool.
"Mornin'," he mumbled.
"Afternoon," I said not looking up from my magazine. I moved my hand over to pick up my cup of coffee to find it was gone, being gulped down by Trigger.
His short bleach blonde hair made him look younger than he was, and the bump in his nose told the tale of many drunken bar fights.
"Enjoying that?" I asked, faking seriousness as I watched him finish my coffee.
"Mmm, what are you doing today?" he sleepily asked. As he said this a red-headed girl stepped out of his bedroom, smiling sheepishly. She walked over to him kissed him on the cheek, told him to call her, and left.
"I see you had a good night," I stated as the girl walked out the door. He just smiled smugly. "Who is she?"
"Alisa or Jane something like that," he said as he got up and walked towards the bathroom.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Trigger and I had been hanging out all day, just lounging around the apartment and talking and having a laugh. It seemed neither of us had anything important to do.
I sat on the couch with my acoustic guitar on my lap, randomly strumming away on some cords while Trigger sat flicking through the channels on the TV.
He was slouching and wearing only a pair of dark blue jeans, leaving his torso bare to see. He had many tattoos over the upper half of his body. He had two black nautical stars on each wrist, on his side, going from right under his arm to his hip, was a picture of a gun shooting out two bullets, and he had many words tattooed on his body in different languages. But my favourite tattoo of his was the small scribble on his chest that read 'your name here'.
To my relief, he was not sporting a tribal tattoo. Well, not yet anyway.
"So what happened last night?" I asked him. "I thought you were supposed to be 'working,'" I said, using air quotes when I said the word working.
"Yeah, me and Joe were supposed to be, but we ended up meeting up with his new girl and her friend, and we had a few. Anyway, we never made it out to work." He started shaking his head, obviously regretting not working the night before. "Billy's going to be pissed."
I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but I could see he was worried. I placed my guitar down next to the TV and walked over to the small kitchen.
"You want something to eat?" I asked as I made myself a glass of water.
"No, I'm good." I walked back over and sat beside him, placing my head on his shoulder.
"You wanna watch a movie?" He nodded yes. "Can we watch 'Fear'?" I begged him with my eyes.
"Not again," he whined.
"Please? Go on, a young Markymark Wahlberg and a young Reese Witherspoon - both in bathing suits. It's the perfect movie for us." He just nodded yes again. "YAY!" I yelled in triumph. While we watched the movie, Trigger made fun of it at every possible opportunity.
"Seriously, what with his fuckin' gay ass soft voice he's putting on when he's around her. Women like real manly voices, voices you can hear the testosterone in."
"What like yours? Coz' I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but your voice ain't too manly," I joked.
"Shut up, Patty," he said in a high pitched voice.
"Don't ever call me that again." I pointed a finger in his face playfully.
"Or what? Patty."
I pushed his side and started punching his leg, hoping to give him a dead leg, but he grabbed my head and put me in a head lock. He really was like the brother I never had.
"Do you give?"
"Never," I said through muffled laughs.
"Well, we'll just have to stay like this all night then, won't we?" he said seriously.
My phone started ringing in my bedroom, so I started struggling to get free, but I couldn't break Trigger's strength.
"Got to answer my cell," I said whilst trying to pull his arm away from me.
"Fine. Do you give?"
"Yes, I give up." I sighed, waiting for him to release me.
"And what am I?" It was so lame that we playfully fought so much that I knew what I would have to say for him to release me.
"You are a sex god, the funniest guy I've ever met, and the coolest." He then let go of me, and I ran into my bedroom to pick up my phone.
It was a foreign number that I didn't recognize so I presumed it was a telemarketer or something.
"Hello?" I asked down the line, holding the phone against my ear.
"Tee, how are you?" It was Michelle - only she and Alex ever called me 'Tee'.
"I'm fine," I said, getting excited about speaking to one of my best friends. "How're things in New York? How's Alex?"
"I'm good. Everything's great, except I'm not in New York. I'm in Paris," her soft voice said giddily.
"Paris? As in Paris, France Paris?" I asked sceptically.
"Uh-huh. I've come to meet Pier's family." My jaw hit the floor in shock.
"That's great. How is Pier?" To tell you the truth I really didn't know what to say.
"He's good. Im telling you I thought he was passionate back in New York, but in his home country he's ten times more passionate about everything."
"That's nice, real nice," I joked. As I said this Trigger came in, whispered that he was leaving, and ruffled my hair.
"But Michelle, I never thought it. You taking time off school to go across the world. Shocking," I joked. In the past, Michelle refused to miss a day of school even when she was sick.
"I've dropped out of college." My jaw hit the floor again. "Pier and I are going to travel the world. We're going to London next week." Before I could reply, she started speaking again. "My money's going. Loveyoumissyou." Then the line went dead.
"Bye," I said glumly to myself, looking at my cell phone.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The hot bath I was enjoying was interrupted by the noise from the front door being opened, then banging on the bathroom door, and Trigger's voice telling me he needed to piss. Oh yes - come back when I'm in the bath.
"Yeah, I'm in the bath. I'll be right out," I yelled back through the door as I stood up in the bathtub. I got out of the tub and began to towel dry my dripping wet hair. I dried myself quickly all over before unlocking the bathroom door in nothing but a small skimpy pink towel. "All night you've been out doing God knows, and when I'm in the bath, you come back!" I said, faking seriousness as I opened the door.
Trigger was standing there, fidgeting his legs. He was obviously eager to go to the toilet, so just for a little pay back for the headlock earlier in the day, I stood in the doorway, smiling broadly but not making any effort to move.
"Are you going to fuckin' move?" he asked eagerly.
"Umm no, I don't think so." As I finished my sentence, he pushed past me and gently pushed me out into the small kitchen.
I lightly laughed under my breath and walked over to the refrigerator, not taking any notice of who was sitting in the dark in my living room. Kneeling down and looking into the refrigerator, I noticed that there were no beers left, though there had been a few earlier on in the night.
"Where the fuck have all the beers gone?" I asked myself, but I quickly found my answer when I heard a male cough coming from the living room area. Quickly, I turned the living room light on to see Joe, Bodie and Billy sitting there - all staring at me. Each with a beer clutched in their hands. Joe looked utterly miserable until he realised I was in a towel and to get to my bedroom I'd have to walk by them all. A broad grin appeared on Joe's his face then.
I gave them a weak smile before quickly walking past them to get to my door. Bodie stood up against the wall next to the TV, looking down at his bottle, and Billy lounged on the shitty couch, openly watching me. Why is he always staring at me?
When I tried to open my door, it decided to jam. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!
"The door - it uh, it jams," I stuttered out. I stood there, holding the door knob tightly, silently begging for Trigger to hurry up, but I couldn't help but steal quick glances at Billy. He terrified me, but I couldn't help but find him alluring.
My attention was quickly drawn back to Joe when he started tugging at the bottom of the short towel I had wrapped around myself. I slapped his hand away quickly and gave him a stern glare.
"C'mon Trish I know you fuckin' want me," he stated, smiling up at me. He was sat in the ragged old arm chair, which nobody but Joe sat on as there were springs poking out of it everywhere.
"Joey," I said sweetly, "I want you like I want a bad headache." Bodie let out a loud laugh, and I could see in the corner of my eye a small smile appear on Billy's lips. I spoke freely like that to Joe because I knew he wouldn't take offense. Finally, Trigger re-entered the room. "Would you please open this piece of shit door?"
As soon as my door was opened, I shuffled inside, quickly closing it behind me and placing my CD player on quietly as I dried myself.
When I was dry and in my spotty white pyjama trousers and my baggy Guns'n'Roses T-shirt I realised my phone and guitar were still in the living room, and I really didn't trust Joe with either of them. So I opened my bedroom door, hoping they were gone. They weren't.
Trigger was sitting on one of the kitchen stools, looking extremely nervous, and he seemed to of been receiving instructions from Billy. But they all became quiet when I entered the room.
"I just need to get…" I didn't finish my sentence - just pointed towards the guitar and the phone. My guitar was placed against the wall next to the TV, and my phone was placed next to Billy on the couch. I grabbed the guitar first and took it into my bedroom. Then I re-entered the room to collect my phone. As I leaned over to pick up my cell phone, I looked up at Billy, who was watching my every move intently.
"What are you doing tonight?" Joe asked me as I walked past him. I raised my eyebrows to him because it was already 8pm, and I had just got out of the bath. It was unlikely I would be doing anything.
"I'm going to get wasted on some cheap ass strong vodka," I said lightly.
"You want to have that drinking session?" he asked glumly. He was pissed off about something.
"You're fuckin' workin' tonight," Billy's deep voice said as he lit himself a cigarette.
I just gave Joe a weak smile and tapped his shoulder then re-entered my bedroom not looking back at them, although my mind begged me to take one last glance at Billy.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I hadn't left my room for over an hour, and, to my knowledge, all the guys had left. Trigger had yelled through my door to let me know that he was leaving and that he probably wouldn't be home that night. I didn't like staying in the apartment alone at night, but I knew it was something I had to get used to, so I tried not to think about it.
The heating was broken in my apartment, sometimes making the place so warm it felt like it was situated in the centre of the sun and other times it would be so cold, you'd swear it was situated in the North Pole. That particular evening I was roasting in the 'centre of the sun'.
I was lying on my mattress in my purple lacy underwear set reading my favourite novel of all time, Pride and Prejudice. My copy of the book was worn and tattered, and the cover was about to fall off the actual book. I guess the amount of times I had read it meant that I needed a new copy. I wish I could find my Mr. Darcy.
I was very intoxicated by the time I decided I needed some ice to cool me down, so I didn't think of putting on a robe when I went out of my room. I didn't place my drink or book down when I left my room - just carried them still, the book held high to my face so I could read it. If I had been sober, I would have never left my room in just my underwear.
I was about two meters out of my bedroom when I accidentally whacked my foot on the TV. I yelped and moved the book away from my face, and I saw something I really didn't expect to see. No, it wasn't my Mr. Darcy sitting on my couch, waiting for me. It was Mr. Darley, Billy Darley.
"Jesus!" I yelled when I noticed him. I had accidentally spilt my drink all over myself and my book when I saw him. I then realised I was standing there, shaking the drink off my book and wiping it off myself in just my underwear, in front of him. A small smirk had appeared on his lips. "Oh god." I then rushed off into my bedroom , my face turning a very bright shade of red.
I re-appeared a few minutes later now in a thin robe, and I had turned from a bright shade of red to a pale pink. Slowly, I sat down on the not so comfy chair(normally I'd never sit there, but I didn't want to get to close) and looked at my soaked book. To be fair I didn't actually want to go and sit with him, but it wouldn't of been rude if I hadn't.
I glanced up to see Billy still smirking with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He was wearing a black T-shirt, which showed off his muscular arms and the tribal tattoos that covered them, and a pair of dark blue jeans with a rip on one of the knees.
"What are you doing here?" I asked bluntly. I wouldn't have been so blunt if I had been sober. "Didn't you leave like an hour ago?"
I noticed he had a bottle of cheap whiskey next to him, and it seemed he had the same idea as me - to just get wasted.
"No." He said seriously.
"Why?" He looked at me stupidly. "Why did you not leave?"
"Where you from, kid?" he asked, completely dismissing my first question and flicking some ash into the ashtray.
"Chicago, and please don't call me kid. You're only a couple of years older than me," I said as I poured myself another vodka and went to the kitchen to find some coke and ice.
I would of never have told him to not call me 'kid' if I was sober and I had only just met him. Especially with him being a leader of a gang.
"How old are you?" I could hear him slurring slightly. He seemed to be pretty drunk himself.
"How old do you want me to be?" I joked; it really was the alcohol talking. I went and placed myself back into the chair "I'm twenty, and you are?"
"Twenty-two." He then got up and walked over to my kitchen, opened my cupboards, pulled out six shot glasses, and came back to the couch. Again, if I was sober I would have been shocked at him just making himself at home and rifling through the cupboards without asking, but I was so drunk, I didn't care. He came back over, poured six shots of whiskey, and slid three over to me.
I just nodded at him and did the three one after the other but gagged afterwards, I was never a whiskey person.
"That was disgusting," I said as he slammed the last shot glass down. To my disbelief he didn't grimace at all.
I leaned back into the chair a little to have a spring pop and cause much pain to my rear end.
"Fuck!" I yelled as I stood up and looked down the horrible chair. "The chair just tried to ram a spring up my arse," I declared, which made Billy laugh but it wasn't a real laugh, it was just at the back of his throat.
Whilst rubbing my left bum-cheek with my hand I sat down on the couch next to Billy, where I had a few more shots of vodka and whiskey mixed. The more drunk we got the more we talked (I honestly don't remember what about) and before I knew it I was so drunk I completely forgot that Billy was a gang leader, drug dealer, and God only knew what else.
"Your tattoos are amazing," I said as I leaned over and admired the work.
I glanced up to see him looking down at me. Our eyes connected, and his blue ones penetrated me. I felt like I wouldn't ever be able to take my eyes off them again. Just as I was moving my head up closer to his so that our lips would meet, I took my eyes off him and stumbled over to the kitchen. Didn't take long to take my eyes away, did it?
"Uh, do you want some more ice, it's boiling in here…" I turned around and almost walked into his chest. He was standing there right in front of me, a small sexy smirk across his lips and his eyes glazed over with lust. If I was sober I would have never of done what I did.
At that moment I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him down so our lips would meet. He took control of the kiss, he being the one to slip his tongue into my mouth first. The kiss was deep, passionate, and strong, and he held a firm grip on my small waist and another hand on the back of my head. He gently pushed me back up against the kitchen counter where our fiery kiss continued. I had never been kissed like that before.
Within a few moments, he stopped kissing me deeply and started placing kisses down my jaw line and onto my neck. I could feel his facial hair rub against my skin. As he recommenced the deep kissing, his hand slipped up my robe and onto on my thigh, which he repeated with his other hand on my other thigh. If I had been sober I wouldn't have allowed someone to touch me like that. After all, I didnt even know him and we'd only been making out for five minutes, but the truth was I wanted him, and I'd had way to much to drink.
He lifted me up so that my legs were wrapped around his waist and my back was pushed right up against the counter. I broke the kiss to start kissing his neck where my muffled voice said:
"Let's go to my bedroom." He obliged.
A/n You may be thinking 'that was abit quick of them to sleep together' and it is, but its all part of the story.