Hi! Let's see how King is doing in the wake of her skirmish with Jack, shall we?

"Cécile!"

King let out a low groan as her aunt's impatient voice jarred her slightly awake. She gripped her blanket tight and turned away from the open bedroom door and the cantankerous woman standing just inside it, her head pounding and muscles aching from the fight she had been in the night before.

"Cécile!" Maddy said, much louder this time.
"Laisse-moi tranquille," King mumbled into her pillow with no intention of getting up.

Out of nowhere, the bartender's blanket was forcefully pulled from her curled-up form, eliciting a startled — and very angry — noise as she was snapped into near-full wakefulness.

"What the hell?!" She groggily exclaimed while bounding upright.
"You are going to be — what is this?!" Maddy suddenly yelled while gesturing toward King's bare legs. "What did you do?!"
"De quoi tu parles putain…?" The young woman grumbled, though she already knew Maddy was referring to the dark bruises all over her.
"Ne fais pas l'idiot avec moi Cécile!"

King pushed some hair out of her eyes — a task that shouldn't have hurt at all but did thanks to her various injuries — and squinted at her aunt, who was fuming.

"What. Happened. To you?" Maddy asked very deliberately, her tone brusque and lacking any sort of genuine concern.
"I fell," King sarcastically answered with a yawn that partially opened the gash on her lip. The taste of blood helped wake her up some more.

"You were fighting! Weren't you?!"
"Still fell though."

There was a tense silence as the two women glared at each other. Finally, King reached for her phone to check the time: 11:57 AM. Surprised that she had been allowed to sleep in (and on a weekday at that), the bartender furrowed her brow.

"What do you even want?" She asked her aunt while gently scratching an itch near a pretty sizable bruise under her right eye.
"You're supposed to meet with your probation officer — here! — at one! You need to get up — now!"

King blinked several times as the realization that a home visit had been scheduled a few weeks prior dawned on her. She let out a loud gasp and looked up at Maddy, horrified.

"Why did you let me sleep so long?!" She asked as she nimbly swung her long legs over the side of the bed.
"Being on time for your meetings and visits is your responsibility, Cécile!"
"But if it's here —!"

King hastily jumped to her feet, which she instantly regretted, as bearing weight on her bad leg caused a jolt of intense pain that was accompanied by a tortured shout. She immediately sat back down, her breathing ragged and tears stinging her eyes as she tried to recover from the sheer agony of standing up.

…Fucking Jack…!

"I don't know what you did," Maddy growled, "but I have a feeling that whatever it was was stupid and reckless — as usual!"
"You are correct."

At that, Maddy raised her eyebrows, and King sighed.

"I fully acknowledge that I did something dumb, but you know what? In the end I got the last laugh because I finally had the opportunity to set something right. Now, if you'll excuse me —" King reached up and snatched her blanket out of Maddy's hands — "I need to get ready!"

Maddy made a face at her niece, who pressed her lips in a thin line as she very slowly stood up. Her hurt knee, which was swollen and bruised, protested for her not to use it, so she hopped one-legged to the closet across the room, grabbed the bath towel hanging from the plastic hook adhered to it, and started to make her way past Maddy but instantly stopped when the older woman moved in front of her.

"Is there something I can help you with?" The young woman asked impatiently. Maddy narrowed her eyes as she carefully took the towel from King. She then wordlessly stuck her arm out.

"What are you doing?" King queried, perplexed by the strange action.
"Hold tight to my arm."

The bartender stared at her aunt in disbelief. There was a somewhat uncomfortable stillness before she hesitantly reached out, gripped Maddy's forearm, and allowed the older woman to escort her to the bathroom down the hall, all the while dumbfounded by the oddly civil gesture.

###

It was 1:12 when King sat on the floral printed loveseat in Maddy and Gary's bright living room, hands in her lap and posture completely rigid, her lips pressed in a thin line. Across from her, in the stiff armchair that Gary usually occupied when he was home, sat her probation officer, an older, heavy-set man called Walters, who clearly hated his job — and possibly even the young bartender.

The two sat in awkward silence as Walters scribbled something on some pages attached to an old clipboard. His eyes then flicked toward King, who flashed a somewhat forced grin that sent pain shooting through her lip and bruised cheek before returning to the paper in front of him.

"Miss Levasseur," Walters said in his low, monotone voice. "I know that honesty isn't exactly your forte, but you need to tell me what's going on or risk going in front of the judge."

At that, King grimaced.

"There's nothing really going on… anymore."
"Do I need to remind you of the conditions of your probation?" Walters asked impatiently.
"No."
"Then you better start explaining how it is that you came to look like you got run over by a truck."

King pressed her lips together again while Maddy emerged from the kitchen holding a small tray of drinks and Ritz crackers. She put it on the coffee table and wordlessly sat down on the nearby sofa.

"Mister Walters," she started, her tone clipped, "Cécile has always been a bit of a handful, but I would like to assure you that she is working hard to… somehow… better herself. Maybe not as hard as she should be, but she is making an effort to compensate for her mistakes and her transgressions under my roof."

Walters tilted his head.

"And what transgressions are those?" He asked carefully.
"She has a habit of talking back," Maddy answered.
"Indeed, she does."

King scowled.

"She is also very dramatic and has some rather… distasteful preferences."
"On est français," King mumbled. "Nous sommes dramatiques."

Maddy rolled her eyes as Walters turned his attention to the bartender, his gaze stony.

"Miss Levasseur, I'm going to need you to speak English for the rest of this meeting. Now, it's clear that something has gone very wrong since the last time we met, so you have five seconds to explain. Five."

The Frenchwoman stared at the officer for a moment and then let out a deep sigh as he said, "Four."

King grimaced as a slight tension headache began to set in. She took a very deep breath, and then:

"I started street fighting to make extra money on the side because I really want to help with my brother's medical bills, but I also want to get the hell out of this house and back on my own," she began. "I couldn't afford to do both, and when I found out about these weekly fights that were being held near where I work I thought that maybe doing something that comes naturally to me would be an easy way to earn more cash. Last night was my last night fighting — I swear I'm done! — but this guy I used to work with in the mafia showed up and challenged me, so I had to show him that I'm not the weakling I was when we first met, and that beating, blackmailing, and underestimating me were the biggest mistakes he has ever made in his terrible, rancid life, so I kicked his ass. But — as you can see — it wasn't exactly a flawless victory."

There was a stunned silence as King sank back against the cushions, and, with a frown, crossed her arms over her chest.

"Cécile," Maddy groaned while placing her fingers over her temples. "Tu es impossible…!"
"Quoi? Il a demandé la vérité," King responded.

Meanwhile, Walters wrote more notes, slammed his pen down, and took a deep breath before looking King in the face, his nostrils flared and demeanor much more abrupt than usual.

"Miss Levasseur, if you can't be honest about what you've been doing then I'm going to have to make a recommendation to the court that we extend your probation by another three months —"
"What?!"
" — if not more. Do you understand me?"
"But I just told you —!"
"What you told me sounds crazy."
"But it's the truth! I swear!"

Walters narrowed his eyes, then thoughtfully looked King over, scrutinizing her appearance.

"Even if it is, it still puts you in violation," he said while standing up.
"I work nights in Southtown! You know how it can be out there!" King protested.
"Would you rather have me recommend actual jail time? You're lucky I'm being this nice about it!"

King pressed her lips in a thin line as she began to feel a subtle pressure building up in her nose and eyes. She couldn't do this for another three months; not with Maddy and Gary, damn it…!

"Mr. Walters," Maddy said, "my niece said somebody… challenged her. Is she still in violation if she wasn't the aggressor but just… defended herself?"

The question seemed to give Walters pause. He looked from the older woman to King and made a vaguely disdainful face.

"That doesn't matter because she said she was fighting people before last night. Either way I'm going to speak with the judge, and a hearing will be scheduled. I'll be in touch when I have the details, and we'll go from there."

King watched as the officer took his leave, with Maddy following close behind. She covered her face with her hands (she winced when her fingers brushed the bruise near her eye) and, much to her chagrin, involuntarily let out a tiny whimper. She should have fucking listened when Mary told her to just stop fighting, but, as usual, her headstrong nature had pushed her in the wrong direction, and though she had been able to get revenge on that disgusting son of a bitch, Jack, she had to ask herself if it was even truly worth it. In a way, the bastard had put yet another blemish on her life.

However.

No one forced her to fight Jack — or anyone out there, for that matter. As was the case with joining up with Big, she had done it all of her own accord; she had no one to blame for this but herself. And that was why, instead of arguing with Maddy (who was livid), King gingerly limped to her quarters to be alone with her thoughts.

Welp. She was told to knock it off...

* Laisse-moi tranquille = Leave me alone
* De quoi tu parles putain…? = The fuck are you talking about?
* Ne fais pas l'idiot avec moi Cécile = Don't play dumb with me, Cécile
* Maddy showing some modicum of humanity? Is this the real life? She doesn't like her niece at all, but, at the end of the day, that is her late brother's daughter...
* Remember, King is on probation thanks to her actions in the Syndicate. She got off easy because she told the cops everything in exchange for a light sentence.
* On est français. Nous sommes dramatiques = We are French. We are dramatic.
* Tu es impossible = You're impossible
* Quoi? Il a demandé la vérité = What? He asked for the truth
* Probation officers themselves cannot extend probation periods, but they can make requests to the judge.

So! Will King have to deal with a longer sentence? Or will she get super lucky? And where the hell is Jean? After all, this was all for him (except Jack, of course). Find out next time!

Cheers~!