Hearts Of Fire
Chapter 4: Blue Eyes
Emerald parked in her driveway in front of the garage and slid out of her truck. She paused a minute to pull the tail of her no-longer-white blouse out and pulled down on the waistband of her capris so she could see the damage. The cut wasn't long but Ace's blade had apparently went in deeper than she'd thought. There was more blood than expected and though it looked to be slowing she knew she'd have to stitch herself. The pain wasn't horrible but it was a constant sharp sting. She sighed and moved to unload the groceries. After making a few trips back and forth, she put everything neatly away, then went out and backed the Ford into the little garage, pulling the door down tightly. She paused in thought for a moment and headed over to the shop, unlocking the door and going inside. Moving to the back of the '57, she unlocked the trunk and popped open the little compartment. The wound in her hip gave her grief as she stretched to reach what she needed and when she withdrew with the item in hand she knew she was bleeding a lot more. Closing the trunk, she then moved around to the passenger door, unlocked it, and rummaged under the seat, her fingers finally closing over the neck of a glass bottle. Triumphantly she snagged it and smiled when she saw that the pint of Jack Daniels was 2/3rds full. Locking the door, she took the bottle and the item from the trunk and exited the shop, locking it carefully behind her.
Em stood outside the shop door looking at the gun she held in one small hand. The Colt was one of a pair. The other one still rested safely in the compartment in the Chevy's trunk. They both had been modified into Fitz Specials and fit her hand well. She grinned as she lifted it and aimed at the big tree by the garage. The weight was familiar, though it had been a while since she'd fired it. Lowering her arm, she headed back to the house thinking she'd pick up some ammo tomorrow perhaps and do a little target practice. After entering the house, she laid the gun on the bedside stand, then unscrewed the cap on the bottle of Jack. She took a healthy swallow, waited for the fire to subside, then took another. She sat the bottle down and kicked off her flats.
The blouse was a total ruin, Em thought as she unbuttoned it. The blood would never come all the way out no matter how much she bleached it, she suspected. The capris could be salvaged though; they'd just need a little stitching. Like her, she suddenly laughed out loud. God, what a first day in town. She'd made friends with a group of kids and incurred the wrath of the town bully while simultaneously getting cut. She laughed again as she slid her thin lace underwear down, wincing as she bent over. Then she reached behind her back and unfastened her bra and shrugged it down her arms, snagging the metal object that fell out before it could hit the floor. She laid the brass knuckles that had been concealed in her bra on the table by the Colt and picked up the bottle of whiskey, then strolled to the bathroom, unconcerned about covering herself. There was no one around for miles and while there was a good breeze moving through the house, it was still warm. After removing the first-aid kit from beneath the sink where she'd placed it earlier while unpacking, Emerald pulled a couple of face cloths and a bath towel from the cupboard. Then, she did a more careful assessment of her wound. Blood was still trickling at a steady rate and the right side of her belly as well as her right thigh were covered where it had smeared and began to dry. She moved to the bathtub and turned the shower on, making the water as hot as she could stand, and after snagging the whiskey bottle, she stepped beneath the hot spray and drew the yellow shower curtain around the tub.
"All-righty. Here we go, baby." she said aloud and separated the edges of the cut with the fingers of one hand. She then gave it a good splash with the whiskey held in the other. At the immediate burn, Emerald hissed and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Her whole body shook a little but then she opened her eyes, took another swig of the Jack and once again spoke to herself out loud. "Come on, pussy. Get it done." She then repeated the process. The second time around wasn't nearly as bad, and she reached on arm out of the spray to set the whiskey bottle on the closed toilet seat, then turned her attention to soaping up and removing the blood that had crusted on her belly and leg, Turning away from the spray, she quickly washed the rest of her body and washed her long hair, knowing she needed to get the stitches in and get a proper dressing on the knife wound to staunch the blood flow and get it to clot. After rinsing well, she gave the cut one last small dash of the Jack and shut the water off and got out. Her body was quickly dried and her wrapped in the towel when she grabbed another face cloth and pressed it tight against the cut before she could bleed down her leg again. Holding pressure with one hand, she laid out supplies from the first-aid kit with the other. The Jack was beginning to warm her insides and she grinned as she carefully unwrapped one of several pre-threaded needles ready for action. "Always be prepared" was pretty much her creed, and she was indeed ready for this task. She had learned it from her brother and his friends at an early age, watching them stitch each other up after the many rumbles and brawls they were fond of. It was a little awkward to stitch the cut on her hip, and afterwards she had a crick in her neck, but it hadn't taken long and when she was finished, she admired her neat handiwork. The edges had come together cleanly, the stitches were small and snug, and the strong black thread would hold as long as she needed it to. She gently patted the wound with a small piece of gauze soaked with rubbing alcohol, wincing at the string, and then taped another folded piece in place tightly. "Done and done." she thought with a grin. She pulled the towel from her hair and combed out the long thick mane, twisting it into a loose braid when she was done. Opening the medicine cabinet, she retrieved a large bottle of aspirin and popped a couple with a small swig from the bottle. After that, she moved to her bedroom and threw on a loose t-shirt and an old pair of track pants that she rolled the legs up and waistband down on. After retrieving the bottle of Jack Daniels from the bathroom, Emerald moved to the kitchen.
She briefly thought of making herself a simple sandwich, but pushed aside the laziness of it, knowing she needed to eat something of substance. Em soon had one of the thick steaks she'd purchased sizzling on the broiler and some fresh green beans simmering and in no time at all, she was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying her meal, the transistor radio tuned to a local rock and roll station. After eating, Emerald did her dishes and cleaned up the kitchen quickly. Her mother had instilled tidiness and efficiency in her as a child, and the habits remained. Never leave a mess behind. Clean as you go. Then you could relax. She poured herself a coke over ice and went out to settle into one of the wicker rockers, propping her feet up on the railing.
A big sigh escaped her as she let her head fall back and she closed her eyes. The cut on her hip was throbbing a little, but it was tolerable and she decided she'd take a couple more aspirin before she turned in for the night. The sounds of quiet countryside came to her as she relaxed and reveled in it. The movement of the breeze through the leaves in the trees and through the tall grass in the meadow across the gravel road, the rustle of the wings of birds as they darted about, the far-off lowing of cattle as they headed to the barn for the evening at the next farm a couple of miles down the road.
Emerald took a sip of her coke and her mind inevitably turned to the altercation in town. She'd been glad she'd been there for the boys. They'd long-suffered the attention of the hood, it would seem, and if she could give them any relief from it, she would do so. The kids should be living every day in the joy of their youth, not having to worry about having the daylights beaten out of them every time they ventured out.
Her thoughts then turned to the blonde. "Ace". Well, she'd certainly been right when she'd judged him as dangerous way back when she'd glimpsed him briefly early in the afternoon. The scene that came later played out in her mind and she examined each bit of it carefully. She'd expected him to try to intimidate her and imagined it worked on a lot of people. If it didn't, she knew he had no problem jumping to the next level. Emerald had a rule that was one of many things her brother had taught her; establish dominance early on. Get it over with and out of the way. And never suffer a fool's words. Cut to the heart of the matter without wasting your time. The first words she'd given him were all that were needed for him to establish the way the events would go. She'd stated simply that she was giving the boys a ride. He'd cursed them and began insinuations with her. She'd fired a little attitude back at him, but was still open to being lenient until he'd sent Chris's brother after Chris. Ace and the other two boys were at least her age, she thought, and they got their jollies by beating up on 12 year old kids. And Chris was…what had Ace called him…Eyeball's…little brother. What bullshit, to set siblings against one another. That was when she had snapped. That had been what had defined the next few minutes. Not just the fact that Ace roughed up on these kids, but the treachery he tried to induce. Ace had triggered her temper and once it flared, it couldn't be shut down-when Emerald Stevens got angry, a person would be more likely to put out the fires of hell than be able to calm her.
She'd pulled her blade to get Ace to halt Eyeball's advance on Chris but she'd kept it out of site of the others knowing that all hell would break loose if anyone saw it. Ace would feel compelled to do something stupid, like try to grab her wrist, and she'd never let him take her weapon. It had been well instilled in her that if she ever drew a weapon on someone, she had best be prepared to use it and recognize the possible consequences. She'd stab him before she'd let herself be disarmed, and where her blade had been pointed, he'd never survive. She didn't know what would've happened from there for sure, except that police would be definitely involved and she'd have to run. That in itself wasn't even that upsetting; it was the fact that she hadn't even been here one fucking day.
She'd fully suspected that he'd had a blade and wasn't that surprised that he'd drawn it, though she had a feeling he had never pulled it on a girl before. Instead of going to work with it, he'd been trying a little more intimidation and it had angered her further, prompting her to shut the shit down and show him just who he was fucking with. She had pushed her hip into his blade and seen his eyes widen just a bit. She'd felt the slight movement of him trying to pull back but she would have none of it. It was at that point she knew she'd already won. He was in the thick of it now and she wouldn't dream of letting him pull away from his consequences yet, so she'd shoved her hip even more on the knife, letting him see just how serious she was. They'd been mere inches from each other, which was exactly how she'd planned it. To the others, it looked as if they were just engaged in a quiet conversation, and with their bodies slightly angled, no one could see the knives. That had been the point where she'd laid it all out for him. Explained just how things were going to go. She'd felt the anger in him as she had talked, but there was something else as well. Something like shock. He was in absolutely unfamiliar territory, and she had taken full advantage of it. The scene had ended perfectly as far as Emerald was concerned-the hood and his goons on their way back up the sidewalk, the boys safe, and herself with only a minor wound and clearly the winner in a game of dominance.
Em took another sip of her coke and shifted her position slightly in the rocker. Ace had, of course, made the obligatory veiled threat as he'd walked away, and she knew she'd be running into him again, but she lived her life in a state of readiness for pretty much any situation and the likes of Ace didn't worry her. He'd shown himself to be exactly what she'd expected, so there would be no surprises as far as she was concerned.
Her mind wandered away from the exchange and to Ace himself. As they had stood toe to toe, she'd had to tilt her head back quite a ways to make eye contact with him. She gauged him at around 6 foot easy and probably around 170, 175, all of it muscle. He'd smelled of cigarette smoke mixed with something that reminded her of old leather. Whatever it was, it hadn't been unpleasant in the least. His face was handsome; Ace didn't have any trouble with the girls, she knew. During their exchange, they had never looked away from each other, and now that she could reflect at her leisure, Em thought about his eyes. Ace's eyes were of an icy blue, clear and cold. His lashes were long and dark, which made the color even more pronounced. She'd bet they could be quite beautiful actually if that coldness weren't in them, that hardness that made them glint.
Emerald froze and shook her head suddenly. What the hell did it matter what he looked like? She downed the last of her coke and stood looking out into the fading light, grinning a little as the first fireflies lit up over the lawn. She was in her new home and everything was secure. No worries. She was going to go in, lock up, watch a little TV, and then put herself to bed. Fuck Ace and his blue eyes.