More tumblr writing; a sort of continuation. Some time has passed since Sutton met Mafia!Steve.

[]

Someone was following her. Sutton only really noticed because she heard a man sneeze and looked back to absently wish him "bless you", and she saw his face. And then three blocks down she saw his face again in the crowd waiting at the crosswalk. And then he turned down the same side street she did; she saw him in the reflection of a store window.

Sutton's heart raced and she shoved her hands in her pockets to desperately grip her phone. Of course it was her luck that some creep would trail after her one of the few times she walked back home by herself. She quickened her pace and rushed down an alley. At least she knew the area enough to know how not to end up cornered, and she took advantage of her small stature to hide behind dumpsters and boxes as she wove around buildings.

Sutton emerged from the alleyway onto another street full of shops, and she pushed herself in the middle of a crowd meandering down the sidewalk. Her heart beat in her throat when she saw the same man emerge from the alleyway she just vacated.

He was determined. That was bad.

The man picked up his pace after they crossed another street over and Sutton broke away from the group, which clearly wasn't hiding her, and started to jog. Her hand shook as she pulled out her phone and struggled to find Steve's name in her contacts. An old dry cleaners shop neared on her left, and Sutton aimed for it to duck inside as she finally dialed Steve's number.

She shrieked as she was lifted from the ground and she thrashed as the man yanked her away from the shop and dragged her behind another building, out of sight. Her heart raced so quickly she felt faint and she kicked again in vain, only feeling a flash of hope when she heard Steve's voice distantly come from the phone.

"Sutton, how are you-"

"Steve, help me!" She managed to cry before the man covered her mouth with a fretful look in his eye.

She flailed and squirmed and tried to scream like a wild animal. Their feet scuffled against the concrete as the man fought to keep control of her.

"Miss, please-"

Sutton managed to dislodge her face from his hand for a moment and let out another panicked yell. Steve's voice rose in mirrored panic from her phone, but she couldn't make out what he was saying and couldn't respond.

The man managed to press her up against the side of the building and pin her limbs, then he pried the phone from her fingers.

Surprisingly he didn't throw her phone or crush it under his shoe. Instead, he held it up to his ear as Steve continued to yell.

"It's me! It's me!" He said. "She caught sight of me and tried to duck into Morozov territory, I had to do something."

Sutton stilled and stared at him, her eyes still wide and wild, as he… talked to Steve? Was he insane? Was she?

He had an Irish accent.

In a move that made her feel even more like she was in some strange dream, he gave her an apologetic look and loosened his hold on her, enough that it seemed like he was trying to present himself as not a real threat. Then he held the phone up to her ear for her.

"Sutton?" Steve said. "It's okay, he works for me, alright? Did 'e hurt you in any way?"

Sutton could only stare at the man in front of her.

"Sutton, sweetheart, I need you to answer me. Can you hear me?"

"I- I can hear you." Her voice was small. "I don't understand- what… what's going on?"

"I'm going to be there in ten, okay? We can talk. The guy with you won't hurt you. His name is Quinn. He's supposed to be protecting you."

"Protecting me?" Sutton parroted, her voice rising. "Steve, what are you talking about? What the heck is going on?"

"I'm on my way to pick you up. It's better to talk face-to-face, okay?"

She didn't know what to do. Sutton licked her lips and agreed, because, honestly, what else could she do.

As he lowered her phone, Quinn's hold loosened further and she pushed him away with a renewed anger.

"Don't touch me," she snapped. "What's wrong with you? Following me around like that? I've never even seen you in the restaurant."

Quinn held up his hands in supplication, but kept an eye on her as if to be ready in case she tried to bolt. She thought about it.

"I don't work in the restaurant," he said. "But it's not my place to explain anything to you."

"Then how can you work for Steve? None of this makes any sense!"

The man stared back at her in silence, then his face softened into something like pity. Or amusement.

"Ah, Mary bless ya," he said. "You're just a lamb."

"Don't even try that with me! I may not be Irish, but I can tell a patronizing tone when I hear one."

"I'm still speakin' English, aren't I? 'S not even one of the proper confusing phrases."

Sutton glared.

She glared until a car pulled up to their location and Steve rushed out. And despite whatever weird situation was going on, Sutton still hurried over toward him. Quinn was a strange stranger, and Steve was safe. He'd walked her home multiple times and never tried to kill her.

At least. He had been safe. He was still safer.

Steve was quick to pull her close and wrap his arms protectively around her. He looked at Quinn and gave the man a nod, though he did look a bit frustrated.

"I've got it from here," he told Quinn. "Head back to the shop. We'll discuss what happened later."

Quinn frowned but dipped his head in acknowledgement, passed Steve her phone, and slipped away.

Sutton pulled away as Quinn disappeared down the street, melting into the flow of foot traffic as if he'd never been there. Steve kept his fingers trailing down her arm even as she stepped to the side, unwilling to break contact with her. Sutton sucked in a steadying breath as she looked up at him.

"Steve, what in the world is going on? Why was he following me?"

"Come on," Steve deflected as he directed her to his car. "We can talk as I drive you home."

For the first time, Sutton wasn't sure that was a good idea. Sure, she'd grown to trust Steve enough that she let him walk her home. He'd never even made her wonder if he would hurt her. But clearly she'd missed something. She shifted from foot to foot as she thought and Steve's gaze flickered to check around them. A couple people briefly glanced at them as they passed. Someone in the dry cleaning shop watched them from the window. Steve didn't seem to like that.

"Please, Sutton. I promise I'll explain everything to you."

He wasn't trying to force her in the car and he looked nervous and uncertain; expressions she'd never seen on him. Besides that, he already knew where she lived anyway. He could easily beat her home and be waiting for her at the complex door to start this all over again.

"Fine," she said as she moved toward the passenger side door. "But it better be an amazing explanation, Steve."

He kept a poker face, which Sutton didn't take as a good sign.

She climbed into the car before he could try to open the door for her, and Steve slid into the driver's seat. He reached over as she buckled and opened the glove box to throw both their phones inside and shut it. Sutton balked.

"Hey! I wanted that back."

She reached for the glove box and he blocked her hands.

"Not while we talk. Please."

Sutton sat back and stared at him. She'd missed something big.

"Then talk."

Steve worked his jaw and stalled by focusing on joining the flow of traffic. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly until he forced himself to relax his hold.

"Quinn was supposed to ensure you got home safely," he said. He paused. "He has been."

The idea that she'd been followed more times then she knew about was a frightening shock. She rolled her lips and tried to figure out how to even respond to that.

"Why would you think you could assign one of your employees to do that? Without even asking me?" She remembered Quinn's claim and smacked her thighs in frustration. "And Quinn said he doesn't work at the restaurant. What the heck, Steve? Do you- do you have another-?"

Steve cut his eyes at her as he stopped at a light.

"As we got closer, I decided you needed it. I didn't want certain people getting ideas, and you've proven you 'ave a penchant for finding trouble."

"You- that's not- You're dancing around telling me the truth! Assigning a random, I don't know, bodyguard, to someone you know isn't a normal person thing to do, Steve."

"No," he agreed. "I 'spose it isn't. But then, my restaurant isn't exactly normal either, is it?"

Sutton continued to stare at him. A dread started to really boil in her stomach as he looped around another building to pull into her complex's parking lot. It was silent as he put the car in park and turned off the engine.

"You can't tell me you didn't notice things were sometimes strange, sweetheart."

He said it quietly, almost like an admonishment, and Sutton bristled. Of course it was a bit unusual that he refused to advertise, and that's why he barely ever had customers. And sure he practically gave her the food every time she came by for lunch or dinner. It wasn't a good business practice, but she assumed he was surviving off whatever initial loan he received.

…With no plans to start making money?

There was also his dislike for social media, having her followed, and their phones were still in his glove box.

"What's your shop sell?"

"You don't need to worry about the shop."

Her gut plummeted. Sutton gripped her blouse over her stomach and she felt sick as she actually thought about everything. She couldn't stop her breathing from picking up and Steve rubbed a hand down his face.

"The restaurant isn't real, is it?"

"It's real enough," he said. "It just… doesn't make the money we say it does."

"Oh my gosh. No. Oh my gosh."

Steve sighed and reached for her, his expression dropping as she brushed his hand away.

"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was lying to you. I assumed you'd figure it out after a week or two."

"Was this- was this all just a game to you?" She snapped harshly. Her face grew instantly hot and her eyes burned. "Was it just a funny way to pass the time, to see how stupid I was? To see how long it'd take for me to- to assume the worst of you?"

"What? No, Sutton, no. It wasn't a game. You grew on me faster than I'd like to admit and I didn't want to-"

"Didn't want to tell me you're involved in organized crime?"

He winced at that and Sutton covered her mouth with her hand, like saying the word was enough to get her killed. Steve sat back against his seat and sighed again as he stared out over the parking lot.

"I suppose I didn't. You're too good. I guess I knew you'd look at me different. I tried to tell myself you must already know, and you still came 'round. Told myself it didn't bother ya."

Sutton swiped at her eyes and swallowed. She fumbled with the glove box in a bid to open it and grab her phone.

"I'm leaving."

Steve grabbed her hands to stop her and laced their fingers as he shifted to face her again. Sutton turned face away to avoid looking at him and pulled, but he didn't release her.

"Please, Sutton. We can talk about this-"

"Talk about what? How- how you have people whacked? Are you going to have me killed now that I know? Huh? Drop me off in a river with some concrete? Or-or ship me off to some other country for- for-"

She couldn't get the words out and she couldn't stop herself from crying. Steve still held onto her hands to keep her in the car and it stopped her from hiding her face.

"How could you think that of me?" His voice truly did sound broken at the idea. He pulled her hands closer to himself and pressed her palms against his chest.

"I would never hurt you, Sutton. And may the Lord have mercy on any man that ever tried, because I wouldn't. I won't say we don't do anything you wouldn't like, but the one thing we certainly don't do is deal in people, you understand me?"

Sutton scoffed.

"Oh, so you're mobsters with a code."

"Yes," he insisted without a hint of irony.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Is it supposed to make me okay with whatever the heck it is that you actually do?"

"No, we're not golden boys," he agreed, "but we're a necessary evil around here. We keep the worse men in check."

She shoved his chest angrily and it hardly moved him. It made her even angrier.

"There is no such thing as necessary evil. And don't even try to sell me on the idea that you got into organized crime with noble intentions. I'm not that stupid."

"You're not stupid. You're good. And this world, this city, is all sort o' messed up. You think my family is the only one the law isn't able to touch? There are others out there who 're just as out of reach, and they do dabble in the worst sorts of business. You think you've made it home safe every time you left my sight because no one had bad intentions? You think little Mrs. Carter next door got her heating fixed so quick because the landlord cared?"

He lifted her hands and watched her face as he dared to press a kiss to her palm. It was the most forward affection he'd shown since their brief kiss goodbye two weeks ago and Sutton bit the inside of her cheek. She was stupid, because she didn't slap him.

"This is my community, and I take care of what's mine," he finished.

It was too much for her to process at once. It was already hard enough to reconcile kind, generous, attentive Steve with someone who had the potential for violence. Who broke the law on the daily as part of his "job". She'd been giving pennies to a mob front for months. Did that make her complicit?

"I need to go." She told him, pulling her hands back again. He released his hold this time. "I- I need to think about this."

"Please just-"

"Don't tell the cops? Yeah, I got it."

"Don't think I lied to you about who I am," Steve corrected. "All the time we've spent together, that's real."

Sutton grabbed her phone and threw the car door open.

"I don't know if I can trust what I think. Clearly." The words were bitter, embarrassed. "And stop having me followed."

Steve's car didn't move as she rushed into her apartment complex; she didn't look back.

The next day she recognized Quinn following her as she ran errands. He had the audacity to wave.