Yep, so once again we've left you waiting for months. It wasn't intentional, but as per usual life has been rather hectic for the both of us. We do apologize, and thank you for all of your support and encouragement. Once again we just want to reassure you that, despite the delays, we won't abandon Fleshling or our other joint fics – we love them too much to do that. (Same goes for our solo fics too, by the way.)
And speaking of things we love, this chapter features a character that we've quickly grown to love – we really hope you will start to feel the same way about her, because she won't be going away anytime soon ;-)
Chapter 35
Social Networking on the Streets
The streets had barely changed over the last thirty years. People had grown older – and had grown in numbers too. The buildings had the same careless facades she remembered, the smell of cigarettes and failure was the same when it arrived at her nostrils; dollars and white powder were exchanged instead of handshakes… There was, too, the familiar symphony of gunfire, or the nocturnal sight of a trembling man with his hands dancing awkwardly with the knife stabbing his chest.
Those where the streets Johanna knew, ever since the time when she had been a 'he', when the hope of leaving the neighborhood was still that, hope, and not a stupid, impossible dream.
A little bit of love for a little bit of cash, she thought as her high heels competed with the others walking the streets. She shrugged her broad shoulders; it had been years since she had stopped selling her caresses for pennies. She had never been good enough for that; as much as men loved to test their manhood with exotic creatures like her, they hated to remember it the next morning.
She had lost count of how many times she had been punched for that same reason – and also of the times she had responded to those punches. That was one of the reasons why her strong biceps and long eyelashes mixed so well, because she could defend herself in times of need. That was also one of the reasons why she was so fond of Stella, the bravest and most beautiful woman she had ever met, one whose strength had nothing to do with muscles.
Johanna would have smiled, as she did almost every time she thought about her best friend, but there were moments in which a smile was impossible, and that was one of them. As her red heels entered the decayed building, she almost wished she believed in a god, so she could pray and find Stella home. But gods and heavens coming to the rescue were impossible things, just as the thought of Stella being away from the clutches of beasts was.
When she finished climbing the stairs, however, she wondered if she had found a god after all, or at least the next best thing. An Adonis in blue jeans… that was everything she wanted for Christmas.
Yet, like all the gods that had flirted with her morals for a just modicum of attention over the years, her new deity exposed himself as unworthy within moments of discovery.
Strong hands worked deftly at the lock on Stella's door as a well-defined shoulder and arm braced hard against the shabby barrier in an attempt to force it open.
"Did you lose your keys, honey, or are you simply picking the wrong lock?"
The young man startled, turning to her the most handsome face she had ever seen.
However, his frown was far from agreeable when he saw her. Johanna was perfectly okay with that; she was very used to assholes who judged her only by her appearance.
"What business is it of yours?"
Confirmed: he was an asshole. That didn't stop him from being gorgeous, though.
"Well, it happens to be my fucking business because the door you're picking is the door to my girl's apartment."
The young man continued to work the lock, turning his cocky green gaze back to the door.
"Your girl?" He snorted derisively. "I think you'll find she's mine. Pitiful as she is, I seriously doubt she'd be associated with a creature as pathetic as you."
Johanna rolled her eyes at the comment, immune to such a common sting. A pity, but she guessed it was to be expected of someone so utterly sexy. Good looks and courtesy just never seemed to go together; not on her side of the city, at least.
"That wasn't what I meant, asshole, but I'm sure you know that already. What the fuck do you think you're doing breaking into Stella's place?"
"If telling you is the only way for you to leave me the slag alone, then yes, I lost my slag- my fucking keys. Satisfied now, female?"
Johanna quirked a stylized eye brow. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to his rare word selection, but had he actually called her 'female'? Maybe he was being ironic, but he had sounded almost sincere. As much as she would have loved to be confused with a real woman, Johanna knew that her looks didn't fool anybody who could tell girl from boy.
Perhaps there was something wrong with him, aside from the bad attitude; was he drunk, or on drugs…surly he wasn't blind? Still, the young man's apparent ignorance didn't excuse the fact that he was trying to trespass on Stella's home, and what was his reason – he'd lost his keys?
Bullshit.
Johanna knew for a fact that Stella didn't trust anyone with keys to her apartment, no one except her good self. A life of suffering had taught her friend that nothing was more sacred than her own private space, the one place where she could seek sanctuary from the streets that hated her.
"Did you, really? Did you drop them in the same place you dropped your honesty, by any chance? Enough with the bullshit, honey, 'cause you're not fooling me."
He stopped struggling with the door and turned to her, his eyes as beautiful as they were threatening.
"And who in the Inferno would you be?"
Johanna opened her purse and showed him her keychain, featuring a small male figure with a huge cock. "I'm the one who happens to have the fucking keys, provided by the owner of this place herself."
He frowned, almost immediately reaching out to her in an attempt to take the keys, but she stepped back and took from her purse the other object she had in mind.
"Whoa… be careful with that" he said, stopping in his tracks and raising his hands in a pacifying gesture. Guns had that effect on jerks like him, and her 9 millimeters had never let Johanna down. It was a dangerous neighborhood, after all, and a girl had to take care of herself, especially one that had once been a guy.
"Oh, I wouldn't know. My finger slips so easily… In other words, you better start telling me who the fuck you are and what the fuck you are doing here. And remember, I want to see your hands up all the time." And your pants down… It was such a shame that she couldn't pronounce those last words, especially if the gorgeous asshole turned out to be who she had begun to suspect he was.
He rolled his eyes and featured an unfriendly grimace. "I'm Stella's… friend. I left my wallet inside last night and I need it. Is that enough for you?"
"Careful with the attitude, smart ass. I'm the one with the gun, remember that."
"Yes, but the question is, do you know how to use it? Somehow, I doubt it. But no matter, you got your answer, so get lost."
The scorn in his voice did little to convince Johanna of the truth behind his words, yet, the more she considered his athletic physique, the more certain she became of her suspicions. It was disappointing to find him such a prick – Stella deserved more than that – but once again, she shouldn't have been surprised. Good people and happy endings didn't belong in their world.
Frowning at the thought, she cocked the gun. "Honey, you're a fucking liar."
His arrogant façade faded a bit at the metallic sound of the gun being readied to fire. "Wait…" he said, lowering one of his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Don't shoot."
She wasn't going to shoot the object of Stella's adoration, of course, but she wasn't going to drop the advantage the gun gave her either. Ever since she had known of his existence, she had been very curious about the guy who had turned Stella's world upside down. There wouldn't be a better chance to get to know him.
"And why not? I find you trying to break into my best friend's place. What would you do in my place?"
He seemed to contemplate the question for a moment, the faintest hint of a smirk crossing his features. Johanna supposed that a guy like him would have many 'friends', or at least, people that craved his attention or affections or simply his power – but would he protect them like she did Stella?
Somehow, she doubted it.
"You don't want to know what I'd do, female," he finally replied.
She couldn't get enough of being called 'female'. Otherwise, she might have paid more attention to his sinister tone.
"Maybe, but I think you'd like to know what I plan to do if you don't start singing, honey," she said, tightening the hold on her gun. "Your name, for example. Spill it if you don't want me to open a third eye on your forehead."
He sneered, not looking impressed at all. "Would you shoot me in the head? I don't think so."
She smirked, lowering the gun and pointing it right at his crotch. "It's not that head I'm thinking of."
He didn't react immediately, a very strange thing considering how guys always had their cocks in mind.
"Another empty threat," the young man said after a moment, turning aside from the gun barrel despite his bravado. "But if you really must know, it's Sean."
Bingo. Johanna couldn't help but smirk slightly; it couldn't have been anyone else. The odds of finding a second stud of his standards on those streets were near impossible.
Asshole or not, she could certainly understand Stella's attraction. She couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to confirm the truth of those reports about his other head…
"So nice to meet you, Sean," the woman responded, her deep voice both smooth as honey and cutting as steel. "I've heard a lot about you."
The glare he shot her was anything but friendly.
"Didn't Stella tell you who I am?" she continued. "I'm Johanna."
"I couldn't care less about Stella's personal life," he said, lowering his arms. "Now that we've finished getting acquainted, would you mind opening the door for me? I really need to retrieve my wallet."
"You couldn't care less?" Johanna asked, quirking an eyebrow as she readjusted her aim. "Well now, honey, that wasn't the answer I was looking for."
"As if I give a fuck what you think," Sean laughed arrogantly.
"Wrong answer again, honey," Johanna said, raising the gun to his chest momentarily, before dropping the aim again. "Stella doesn't need assholes like you in her life, she has enough of them already."
Sean scoffed nastily. "I'm sure Stella doesn't need you making decisions for her, you pathetic creature. I'm sure she's quite capable of making them on her own. She's certainly capable of other things. Perhaps she likes the treatment assholes give her, have you ever thought about that?"
Johanna felt herself falter for a moment as anger welled up inside of her like hot wax in a beauty salon. That he would dare to say something like that to her, that he would dare degrade her best friend while she held a gun to him…
The woman didn't think as she took a step forward and raised her free hand, slapping that arrogant, smirking face with brutal force.
"Say something like that again and you'll be leaving this place with a second asshole, you hear me? You have my word on it!" The grip on her gun trembled, her finger close to pulling the trigger. "Ever since my friend met you, she has done nothing but please you, and you have no idea the kind of trouble she has gotten into because of that. The least you can do is treat her with some respec—"
Johanna had never seen anybody moving that fast. As a matter of fact, she didn't even see him; she just felt a claw-like grip on her wrist and a similar hold on her throat. In a moment she was turned around like a puppet, the back of her head hitting the nearby wall, leaving her vision temporary blurred.
"Strike me again and I'll tear your internals from your body. You have my word on it." There was something very dark in that voice, and in the eyes that were stabbing her. Johanna couldn't remember the last time she had felt genuine fear, but she was close to fainting when she saw a crimson glint within his eyes. It had to be her blurred vision playing tricks on her, there was no other explanation…
Still, she did her best to keep herself together. "Go ahead… If you're going to kill me, do it now, asshole. You Kane men are all the same, fucking cowardly pieces of shit…"
The grip on her wrist softened a bit. "I'm not one of Kane's lackeys. Don't insult me like that."
He released her, also releasing her from her 9 millimeters as he did so. She grasped her hurt wrist as he stepped back and scrutinized the gun – which she supposed had just changed owners.
"That's what Stella says… but still that hasn't stopped her getting in trouble with him because of you."
"And what in the Inferno had you thinking that her problems concern me?"
She frowned, quickly forgetting about her fear. "Nothing but my own stupid self. I can see now the kind of bullshit Stella got associated with, but I warn you asshole, gun or not, if you hurt her you'll have to answer to me."
Considering his cocky attitude, she was sure he would laugh in her face, but surprisingly, he didn't. He hid the gun beneath his jacket and fixed his intense eyes on her again, although this time they were more serious than threatening.
"If hurting your friend was my intention, female, I'd have done so the very first day I met her. So spare me your pathetic attitude. It's totally useless."
Johanna frowned as she scrutinized the look on the young man's face, uncertain of his sincerity. Indeed, he could have chosen to hurt Stella already, but then again, who was to say he hadn't. Love Stella as she did, Johanna knew her friend's habits when it came to accepting poor treatment from men.
Still, she took confidence from the thought that he had put the gun away, instead of turning it on her.
"Honey, I give as good as I get," she finally responded. "You treat me like shit – or Stella, for that matter – and I'll treat you like shit. Don't like my 'pathetic' attitude? Then spare me yours. Simple, really."
Johanna ignored the snarl on Sean's lips as he made to protest, pushing past him to place herself by Stella's door. "Now, you said you were here for your wallet, yes? Then hurry up and take it, and get the fuck out of here."
Sean scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you hadn't got in my way, female, I would have left long ago."
"So you say, honey," Johanna purred, unlocking the door and inhaling deeply as the young man stalked past her into Stella's apartment. Damn, he even smells delicious.
She remained silent as Sean rifled around between the couch cushions before bending down to search under the unmade bed, his perfect ass dancing before her provocatively. Asshole or not, she had to admit that Stella had made a fine choice based on looks alone…if only he had a taste for the things she herself had on offer.
If only Stella was willing to share so she could at least find out… She'd have to work on that one, if the prick was going to hang around.
But alas, the spectacle was over as quickly as it had begun, with Sean standing up triumphant, wallet in hand.
"Tell your friend to be home and clean tonight," he said with a sneer as he stopped under the doorframe and looked up into her eyes. "I have a lot to do today and I'll be in need of her services when I'm done. And make sure you're gone – had you been slightly attractive I may have kept you around, but I only have need for one ugly whore."
And with that, he walked away, tight jeans embracing his ass in a way she could only dream about.
"Prick," she called out as he disappeared from view.
To be continued.