Silver had thought that the strong liquor would have calmed his nerves, but instead it made them worse. He sat in his leather armchair, in silk pajamas with a crystal glass in one hand and a big, fat cigar in the other. This was just like Silver suave, sophisticated and laid back. That was until 'Danny boy' came and ruined his life. Apart from worrying about his release from incarceration whilst there Terry had been worry free, he no longer had to keep up the pretence and the image he had to constantly uphold around everyone.
He'd never realised before just how many noises his house made. Every creek or bang made Silver constantly look over his shoulder, he took another big mouthful of liquor unaware that it could actually worsen his paranoia.
Silver suddenly started to feel really angry, his blood was beginning to boil. This was all Daniels fault, it was his fault he was feeling like this. Terry hadn't felt like he had to look over his shoulder in years, he had been so confident of his abilities and social standing that he was dead certain that noone would lay a hand on him, never mind actually defeating him and humiliating him Infront of everyone. It had knocked his confidence for a loop. Now he felt uneasy and even if he hated to admit it, vulnerable even in his own home. This house was no longer his safe haven to protect him and keep everybody out from the world outside.
Terry had to admit that during his feud with Daniel and his gang, he had crossed the line on more than one occasion. Some of the things he had done were just unforgivable but had been done in the heat of the moment and for the good of his Dojo, for the good of his legacy. But he had never invaded any of their homes, never violated their safe space where their families lived in peace away from the on going feud. So why had Mike, Daniel and Chozen decided it acceptable to do that to him, just because he lived on his own and had no family? Silver suddenly threw his glass across the room, smashing it against the wall. He hated feeling like this, this was not the first evening out of jail that he had envisioned. All he'd wanted was a nice peaceful evening, a few drinks and a couple of smokes. If he'd felt like it he might've even gone to a bar and pulled a girl to bring home. But no Daniel had ruined it, just like he had ruined everything else.
With a sigh of defeat, Silver stubbed out his cigar and stood up. With his ideal evening ruined by his forever brooding brain he decided the only best thing would be to retire to bed. Maybe things would look better in the morning after a good night's sleep, now that his slumber wouldn't be disturbed by all the racket of a prison wing at night.
After checking all his doors and windows in his entire house for the third time that evening, Silver finally sunk into the satin sheets of his four poster and closed his eyes. A tapping on the window caused his eyes to fly open, they shot across to the window, his heart racing, only to breathe a sigh of relief to find it was just a tree branch tapping on the window.
Terry's eyes scanned the room bony, skeletal shadowy fingers waved across the bedroom walls from the tree branches at his window. Suddenly he gasped with shock, there was someone stood in his room, right Infront of his bedroom door. No escape! It was them, it must be "Fuck not even twenty four hours and they were already onto him" Terry quickly reached over to his bedside table and switched on his bedside light and shot his head round back to his bedroom door to see who the intruder was.
"Fuck sake, pull yourself together" Silver cursed loudly to himself, feeling stupid and foolish as he sat there face to face with... his bathrobe.
It was then that he realised he needed to get himself armed!
Silver wasn't unaccustomed to guns, it's just that they wasn't his Forte, they weren't his style. Silver was abit more stylish and subtle than that. His service in the army in Vietnam had made him more than capable and trained to use them, he just didn't trust them. Too many accidents and mistakes happened from guns either not being handled correctly or getting into the wrong hands. But he desperately needed something to protect him if they ever came after him again. He needed something to make himself feel safe.