- Chapter Fifteen -
Head
Throwing up the heather hood of the jacket she'd found to hide the ivory circlet that adorned her crown, Daniella followed Chloe out of the car and into the store. Hitting their destinations in the order in which they were arranged rather than based on how relevant the stores were to the agenda, so in others practically, the sign on the marquee declared it to be a pawn shop. Unassuming about the real kind of business that went down in the corner shop, by the end of the transaction she had to wonder about how many services the owner actually offered.
A line of miniature bulbs outlined both full-sized windows and the top of the door, almost identical to the flashing attention grabbers that lit the outside between city lamp posts. Stuffed mid-way through flight, a predatory eagle hunted for a display of ornate knives in one window; the opposite case was taken up by a grandfather clock and an autographed guitar. Apparently pawn shops had to be stocked with at least one antique timepiece. Optimistic as the set-up was, the seediness of the establishment was called in to question by the heavy bars bracing both sides of the glass.
Patrons numbering enough to count on the fingers of one hand, an old woman with poodle-pink curls and a leopard-print bathrobe was haggling over the price of a couple gold earrings and a silver pendant at the front counter. Heavy bifocals and an obvious hearing aid were either part of a strategy to appear harmless to vendors or else she was a tougher old bird than it seemed, because she wasn't folding. Also invested in the outcome of the old woman verses the clerk, a hipster couple in their mid-twenties were lighting up their phones with the play-by-play. Observing the matching tattoos of stylized swallows on the back of their hands as the squatter of the two blew a bright blue bubble, Daniella wondered if the story was being relayed in text or emoji form.
Entering behind the heiress with graceful catlike movements, Chloe put her hand on the teen's shoulder before wandering off to see about something for a friend and her son. Leaning close to whisper up into the slightly higher ear of the other female, the beauty ignored the fact that Daniella jumped at the unexpected contact, "Feel free to browse while I have a word with the owner. Shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes."
Aquamarine sapphires sparkling in the direction of the other young adults, she hoped that Ms. Frazer didn't mean for her to socialize. Unlike some, Daniella had no disdain for hipsters (wrapped in the cozy flannel with the hood up, she might have even passed for a hipster lite herself). She was just antisocial. Call her a snob or an ice princess for it, though it stung to hear the words she opted out of mingling with people for a good reason.
Head bobbing in affirmation, she watched Chloe glide off with a seductive sashay towards the second register. Flustered with the other female or not (which there was still some residual agitation if truth be told), there was something magical in her sway that could almost make one forget any prior exchange. In the spirit of burying the hatchet to make their day together as pleasant as it could be under the circumstances, Daniella turned attention instead to the checkout line. Maybe this was merely the sheltered rich girl being ignorant of the world, but it seemed unlikely that a pawn shop would have need of another open stall. Having said that, with negotiations seeming to go on for hours like it did with the old woman, it was a handy addition.
Speaking of the old lady drama that was so enthralling to the other costumers (whom were most likely baked beneath their ironic indoor sunglasses), she seemed to come to a satisfactory price for the necklace, but not for the studded hoops. Actually it was a shame that she was short on funds at the moment, because the teen would have paid what the crone was originally asking for the moonstone necklace - it would have gone beautifully with the ring her mother had given her last easter. Say what you would about the woman, but for someone that rarely wore jewelery, Mama knew how to pick the prettiest pieces.
On that token, she had to ponder what kinds of things her father would have gotten for his daughter. Would he have bought out the entire building for the day for his little girl to take her pick? They had the money, and technically speaking he probably wouldn't have needed to actually buy anything since the family owned or had a hefty stake in just about every major business. Or would he have wanted less of a Marilyn and more of a Jackie? From what little she had learned about him, she could just imagine her father spending millions on books and scales and all manner of scopes. Typical of most small children, she would have adored that kind of treatment, but as the young woman she was now...
Without Shen to show her what it was like to not have a warm bed and food on the table every night, there was every possibility that Daniella would be the spoiled brat that demanded the world for nothing in return. As the finally tally stood, her father was dead, her good step-father was gone, and she was the kind of person that would have much rather spent the occasion in the company of those she loved. It was probably dumb and the biggest waste of time anyone could conceive, yet to her the best thing in the world would have been knowing that someone else loved her enough to chose to spend that time in her presence. What she wouldn't have given for just one day with her father.
Simple affection was all she desired, yet she found herself squirming in her own skin to shy out of the spotlight when one of the two hipsters glanced in her direction. Asking herself how she hoped to find someone that could answer her silent prayer if she shunned contact with anyone that wasn't forcibly injected into her life by happenstance, the wannabe swashbuckler knew that she should at least attempt to engage with the couple. Yet...
"Did you really think we were ever friends?" Twelve years old and still waiting to hit the first signs of puberty like the early peakers in the rest of the class, Daniella would have sunk down to her knees if she hadn't been sitting on the toilet. Hidden in the stall not because she had to use the facilities but because a stolen doodle on her math packet had fallen into circulation, she had no choice but to listen as the best friend of last year continued, "Her mom made my mom invite her along. Dan "the Man" is just the worst!"
Flocked by a gaggle of her groupies, Carissa Reynolds tossed her perfect curtain of sable hair over her perfect tanned shoulder to flaunt what made her the Queen Bitch. One of her many followers started the chorus of "lames" and scoffs, which earned a nod of approval from the top of the lacquered totem. Checking her make-up for the third time since entering the girls room, the ringleader glanced under the stalls and identified the heiress by her footwear. An evil smirk crept across her face when she realized that she had an audience.
Adjusting herself in the mirror, Carissa casually put her back to the row of toilets so that Daniella could see her reflection through the crack. "I never told anyone this, but the last time I was bribed to stay the night at her house, she threatened to kill herself if I didn't do what she asked." Faking a forlorn sigh, the more developed female knew that the loser couldn't dispute the rumor without bursting out of the stall and looking like a creeper. "I'm such a good person that I didn't want that on my conscious, but now it feels like the freak is stalking me."
Drama class leading lady at work, Carissa had the others eating out of the palm of her hand. Tennessee - yes that was her real name, though mostly she went by Nessee - played the part of the most prominent and loyal of the handmaids. Bringing the boss lady in for a hug that would have had half the boys in the class drooling, the petite redhead patted the other girl sympathetically in circles, "There, there. This is a safe place. Just let it out."
"Oh, I'm so glad to have friends like you!" Carissa stuck her tongue out at Daniella at the barb, capitalizing on the fact that her back was to her so-called squad. Squeezing Nessee tight as the last life preserver on the Titanic (which they had just started watching in history class), she began to shed crocodile tears, "It's been so hard keeping it bottled up this whole time! Dannis "the Manis" wasn't my first kiss, thank God, but I think that I was hers. Creature made us practice half the night, until it just completely overheated. Then..." Trailing off purposefully to let the mind fill in the blanks, the dark haired girl simpered at her former friend before burying her face in Nessee's ginger locks.
Murmurs filled the room like the buzzing of bees at a funeral, "You should have just let her die." Agreement echoed the statement.
"She's a waste of space."
"Truly awful."
"Freak would be better off dead."
"Right? Like, I swear I saw her checking out the gym teacher when everyone was changing last period. So nasty."
"I heard she pays off hobos to rub her off and orders them to let her call them daddy."
Carissa was clearly upset that she hadn't come up with that lie on her own, it was clear from the look her face, however she liked it enough to pounce. "That makes so much sense! My parents always go on about how shady the Adler family was. Daddy even let it slip in front of me once that Dan "the Man" was the mistake of a coke whore that just hit the lottery. And any dick that comes her way. Like, who can be really sure that she was even that psycho's daughter? Sure, crazy doesn't fall far from the tree, but have any of you ever met her mother? Yikes. Danny will probably end up becoming a gutter slut before graduating high school. That is, if she doesn't kill herself first." Carissa looked directly into the crack, right at Daniella as her words pierced down to the marrow, "She should really just do everyone else a favor and die."
Fist clenching at the memory, the heiress turned away from the couple to stared fixedly at a poorly lit shelf brimming with various little knickknacks. Admittedly the first thing to catch her attention was a Colt M1911; her father's had been lost with his body she knew, however her mother had gone on at length about the pearl-gripped pistol. She never understood how or why her mother had known anything about guns, but it was beginning to make a lot of sense after recent events.
Left of the gun displays were endless strands of goldenrod ropes and loops of cubic zirconium bracelets, rings of polished nickel glinting in the overhead fluorescents. Obviously the clerks held on to the good stuff and would only bring it out under request. Right was an assortment of miscellaneous odds and ends, beginning with a stack of computer towers older than she was. A ceramic owl painted in neons only needed a black light to really come to life. Power tools were neatly displayed on the shelves opposite, where a snug little niche had been made for statuettes. Most of the marble men were fashioned in art deco or mod inspirations, however there was also a sizable collection of trophies - one or two were untouched, but the majority had had the inscribed names and deeds filed off. Laminated comic books and other reading material inhabited the far back of the store, sharing company with lamps, rugs, and musical instruments that weren't quite impressive enough to make the front display.
Door tinkling with the chime of two bells as it opened, a teenage boy in a tattered riding jacket strolled into the shop to start his shift. Half of his face beaten down to a pulp - the missing blows leaving a welt on his cheek just below the eye - yet the heiress immediately recognized the second of the three boys that had assaulted her at the pool. Despite the lack of alcohol to lend him the same crooked stature as that night, there was no mistaking his voice as he greeted his co-worker. Suppressing a shudder, she could feel his hot breath on her ear.
I hope Sam did that to you, calling him the foulest of names in her mind, Daniella wasted no time in blocking his path to the door marked 'employees only'. Getting a good look at his face, or rather what remained of it, she rooted herself in his line of sight to etch it into memory and to savor the damage it had taken.
Not accustomed to being accosted so soon on the job, Liam blinked at the young woman blocking his route to the storage closet. It was where he'd forgotten his name tag last night after cleaning up early to go to the opening show of his nephew's school play. Swollen eye still rocking the white equal sign bandages from Leslie kicking him out of the group, he was more disappointed in Tommy for not coming with him than almost anything else. Although it still ached to touch or move in certain ways. Taking a moment to remember why the young woman in his way looked so familiar, when she lowered her hood for him, he felt like he had just been kicked in the gut.
"You're okay!" Overwhelmed with relief strong enough to wash away a fraction of the guilt, he threw his arms around her. He was too happy to even consider the possibility that she was there on a mission to get retribution, although he had said multiple times that she would have had every right to track the three of them down like dogs. Perhaps it should be noted that he had grown up with certain kinds of films, and was therefore quick to compare real life to what was captured on camera.
Sobering up and vowing to never again let himself get so wasted that he would become such a douche, Liam tried on three separate occasions to get in touch with Sam. That had been a no-go, although he had left a verbal message with the guy he had seen coming out of the hotel room on the second try. He'd even tried going to the nearest hospital, however he had no idea how to go about asking for a Jane Doe that had hurt her head and almost drowned as a result without sounding like he had been personally responsible. Not knowing if the girl made it or not had been giving him nightmares ever since the accident.
Internally hissing at the unwarranted physical contact, she shoved the strange boy off with a much more menacing growl than even she knew she was capable of. "You don't get to touch me. EVER!"
Hipster couple stopped the grandma narrative and immediately immersed themselves in what they must have imagined was a lovers spat; even the old woman and the clerk had paused for half a heartbeat when Daniella screamed, yet they were too invested (and seasoned) to be bothered. Chloe was completely gone at that point in time, most likely some place in the back with the owner of the store. If she had even heard the sudden screech from her location, she must not have deemed it as important enough to come running out to check on the girl.
Liam threw his arms up in a gesture of peaceful surrender, however he made no other move to back off. "Fair enough. I was a complete and utter asshole to you that night, you have every right to be pissed off at me."
Pissed off?! Face contorting into a white rage that simmered the dry air, she was livid enough to start a one-woman riot that could change the geographical landscape of the city! "Oh, I have a right all of a sudden! So glad you approve!" Swatting him in the chest with full force, she barely registered in her fury that he wasn't resisting the blows but was graciously accepting them as they came. Initially he had flinched as his muscles contracted to defend himself at the very least, however he had resisted the urge. "Your friend called me a horrible name! And the other one was even worse! He almost killed me!"
And then her picture was promptly posted to social media, bandages and all. But in that moment, she had bigger fish to fry.
"But you're still standing!" He flashed a high beam in the hopes that she would take a moment to give herself props for the feat, however it only earned him a busted nose.
Anger boiling over the limit of containment, Daniella didn't even try to fight the wave of blackened crimson that washed over her as she socked the guy square in the face. Before either of them knew what was happening, her fingers were wrapped around his throat and she was yelling at the top of her lungs. He was the bad guy here, he had touched her intimately and without permission, he hadn't stopped his friend from almost killing her, he hadn't even tried to save her after the deed was done. He was the real monster. Not her...
I didn't mean to... Mama, I swear, I didn't mean it...
Wrists locking at her ribcage in a manner similar to the Heimlich maneuver, the leaner of the hipsters had their arms around the heiress and was yanking her off the boy before she could finish the job that someone else started. Hands harmlessly grazing the underside of her bust as they wrapped around her torso, the hipster that was restraining her was doing so with great difficulty, yet the paramour continued to document the scene. Whispering words that were meant to be calming as she kicked and bucked and thrashed wildly to get at the bastard, Daniella was too riled up to stop.
Body wriggling for freedom, when it became apparent that the teen was too upset to be mellowed by mere entreatment alone, the second hipster finally stopped recording and came to help. Neither could fathom what could have possibly gone down between the kids to earn such a vicious attack, they could only tell that was time to remove her before the altercation became a crime scene. Observing the boy whimper and cry as he spat out a tooth (or part of one at any rate), the pair escorted the girl out of the building and to the narrow ally where the trash was collected. Sharing the space with a dry cleaner, it was a nice little space to offer a different method of medication.
"Easy, little mama. Bonehead's not gonna hurt you again." The hipster at the teen's back loosened their grip to let her know that they meant her no harm, yet not letting go entirely also conveyed that they weren't about to let her waltz back into the would-be massacre either. "I'm Angel. That's Ashley. Ash, intro?"
Ashley nodded obligingly, following Angel's lead. "'Sup? Name's Ashley. That's my lifemate, Angel." Androgynous down to the way they both spoke, Angel and Ashley both carried accents; Angel was straight out of Brooklyn, and Ashley had some kind of mid-western twang going on, but neither were the definition of stereotypical. "Have been for the last three years. And you, deary?"
Watching the way that Ashley dug around in various pockets, the heiress tensed for a moment when a bowie knife was brought out in a flash of silver. Missing the smirk that crossed Angel's lips due to her present position, the blade was promptly returned to its proper place with a small sigh of exasperation and a mumble about not letting people anymore lighters. "Did you lose it again?"
Clearly Ashley had lost the last of the lighters again, but was in no mood to admit it. Who could blame a person when their significant other was being smug about it? "Just give me a minute, I'll find it!" Silence reigned as the search intensified.
Daniella knew better than to just go announcing who she was, so she followed their example of keeping surnames out of the mix. "You can call me Dells..." Sam called her that, but she liked the way it sounded. "It's what M-" Daniella had been about to explain that that was what Mr. Drake called her, however she had no clue who these people were or what they wanted to do to her, so it occurred to the teen to stretch the truth a little, "my man calls me. Then again, that name might just apply to him, and I never realized it." As she tacked that on, the teen realized just how true that statement was. Logan kept calling her Danny despite her repeatedly telling him not to do so, and Chloe didn't really seem to have any special attachment to any shorthand yet.
Releasing the girl once she was deemed to be relaxed enough to hold a conversation without endangering anyone, Angel formally extended a hand. "Ashley's not much for manners, but what can you do? It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, D. Little compromises, am I right?" Greeting the heiress in a polite fashion with a playful wink, Angel apologized for having to manhandle the teen while tossing Ash a lighter, thus proving the point about sacrificing for your partner. "Sorry about back there. We just had to keep you from doing something that someone so young would regret. We believe in making mistakes in life, but there's also a point when other people need to step in and prevent really bad things, you know?"
Less composed than Angel, Ashley caught the lighter in midair and lit up the joint that had been tucked behind an ear rocking size zero gages. Honestly the teen thought the whole gage fad had died a long time ago, but different strokes she supposed. "So what's the story?" Not entirely crass and without a sense of courtesy, Ashley offered a puff just after making the demand.
A hundred and one cautionary tales crossed her mind in that moment, but the frayed remains of Daniella's nerves were the very definition of the edge. Accepting the hit with gratitude, Daniella lightly touched the bandages on her brow and exhaled deeply before considering the complete contents of what she was smoking. Figuring it was too late now, she continued the circle. "See this? That dick and his friends did this to me. I just wanted to be left alone, but they just wouldn't listen and kept coming at me." Angel blew the smoke directly in her face, and she wondered briefly how her new guardians would react to her coming back blitzed and smelling like stale herb. "I hope my Sam's responsible for what happened to his face, the cur deserves it."
Giggle escaping at the use of the word 'cur', Ashley took a double before passing it back around to the heiress for the fourth or fifth time. No one was keeping track, and even if they would have been, by the time the teen had finished her explanation all records had stopped. "Dude, who talks like that?"
Shrugging as she stumbled back into the brick wall of the laundromat for support, Daniella felt it getting to her head by the time she gave it to Angel. "I dunno, dickweeds? Wait..."
Final puff a deep one, Angel and Ashley nodded at each other as the teen wrapped herself to Angel for the warmth and protection. While it wasn't quite the same, it would suffice.
Ashley was cool too, but Angel was really nice...