Still Life With Taylor
folder
Individual Celebrities › Vin Diesel
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
1,811
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Individual Celebrities › Vin Diesel
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
1,811
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know Vin Diesel. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
2
::TWO::
We'd been watching the bar for a while. It ran clean, not great business, but steady business. Legitimate business. One of the very few in the neighbourhood that was. The name Matty Demaret was enough to ensure the owner sold, with no hassles.
Matty didn't want to use his old man's name, but I don't think the guy would have sold otherwise, and it's not like we just had money to burn. It was this, or nothing, the money would be gone, eventually, with nothing left but the old life to fall back on.
There's only so long you can beat on people for a living before you end up dead. The shoulder's still stiff, a month after getting shot over a bag of cash in Montana. Time to get out before I get put out. End up like my old man, shot in an alley somewhere. Comes a time to wise up. To grow up. Fuck, we're not kids from the neighbourhood any more.
The place was legitimate. Matty wanted it kept that way. The original accountants would stay. The owner suggested keeping the bartender. Said she kept the regulars, didn't skim, could be relied upon. Matty wanted to meet her, size her up, and see just who we would have to get rid of. The old life wasn't to touch this place.
Matty doesn't bother to introduce me by name, a point this woman doesn't miss at all. I don't think he even realizes he's forgotten. It's just Matty. I've been his shadow since grade school.
When people get used to you being quiet, it's easy to sit back and watch them. It's like you disappear.
So I nurse my beer, and I watch Christine. She's not nervous around Matty, or me, for that matter. Matty tends to make girls a little ditzy. I scare them, or they want to go to bed with me. Or some combination of the two. Most women get flustered when Matty does that handshake thing. They don't know what to do with their hands, or they won't let go afterwards. She doesn't. She expects to be treated politely.
Dark red hair. Natural. Can't tell how long it is, she's got it tied in some sort of knot at the back. Almost no makeup. Pale skin. Green eyes. Her voice is deeper than you'd think, by looking at her. A woman's voice. A little on the skinny side, hard to tell for sure. Black skirt to her ankles. Combat boots, and a hoodie. She sure doesn't dress like a cocktail waitress. Looks you right in the eyes when she's talking to you, expects you to do the same. I don't think she's what Matty expected either. She's not exactly pretty. Don't know what it is about her. Just something real, I guess.
She's sizing Matty up too. Don't know if he noticed it, but I did. Wants to know where she stands. Can't say I blame her. She was asking something more when she mentioned the drop. This woman isn't dumb, wants to know whether things will continue running clean here. Or what, she'll leave? I get the feeling she would.
Matty doesn't notice if I'm done. Doesn't ask beforehand if I'll walk her. Just assumes I will. That's no problem. We're staying in the hotel across the street until we get stuff sorted out, and Matty heads back.
Most women start in with the talk right away. It gets to the point you don't hear them, just shut them out. Hanging off your arm. Christine stays quiet. Then again, I haven't said a single word to her yet. She's prettier outside. It's raining a little. She doesn't make a fuss about her hair. Puts her face up, when she figures no one's watching. She's actually smiling, a little.
The drop's complete. She looks at it for a second, before giving the receipt to me. Probably would have just taken it home with her, and handed it over in the morning. Hadn't even thought about how she was going to get home. The previous owner said she lived close. Thanked me for walking her. Starts to walk off. There's no way I'm letting her walk home alone.
It wasn't a question when I said it. You don't let a woman walk home alone at that time of night. Made me smile a little, when she asked for a name. She has a sense of humour. A laugh in her voice, even when she's not laughing. Her smile makes the bridge of her nose wrinkle, her head drops a little. Cute.
We'd been watching the bar for a while. It ran clean, not great business, but steady business. Legitimate business. One of the very few in the neighbourhood that was. The name Matty Demaret was enough to ensure the owner sold, with no hassles.
Matty didn't want to use his old man's name, but I don't think the guy would have sold otherwise, and it's not like we just had money to burn. It was this, or nothing, the money would be gone, eventually, with nothing left but the old life to fall back on.
There's only so long you can beat on people for a living before you end up dead. The shoulder's still stiff, a month after getting shot over a bag of cash in Montana. Time to get out before I get put out. End up like my old man, shot in an alley somewhere. Comes a time to wise up. To grow up. Fuck, we're not kids from the neighbourhood any more.
The place was legitimate. Matty wanted it kept that way. The original accountants would stay. The owner suggested keeping the bartender. Said she kept the regulars, didn't skim, could be relied upon. Matty wanted to meet her, size her up, and see just who we would have to get rid of. The old life wasn't to touch this place.
Matty doesn't bother to introduce me by name, a point this woman doesn't miss at all. I don't think he even realizes he's forgotten. It's just Matty. I've been his shadow since grade school.
When people get used to you being quiet, it's easy to sit back and watch them. It's like you disappear.
So I nurse my beer, and I watch Christine. She's not nervous around Matty, or me, for that matter. Matty tends to make girls a little ditzy. I scare them, or they want to go to bed with me. Or some combination of the two. Most women get flustered when Matty does that handshake thing. They don't know what to do with their hands, or they won't let go afterwards. She doesn't. She expects to be treated politely.
Dark red hair. Natural. Can't tell how long it is, she's got it tied in some sort of knot at the back. Almost no makeup. Pale skin. Green eyes. Her voice is deeper than you'd think, by looking at her. A woman's voice. A little on the skinny side, hard to tell for sure. Black skirt to her ankles. Combat boots, and a hoodie. She sure doesn't dress like a cocktail waitress. Looks you right in the eyes when she's talking to you, expects you to do the same. I don't think she's what Matty expected either. She's not exactly pretty. Don't know what it is about her. Just something real, I guess.
She's sizing Matty up too. Don't know if he noticed it, but I did. Wants to know where she stands. Can't say I blame her. She was asking something more when she mentioned the drop. This woman isn't dumb, wants to know whether things will continue running clean here. Or what, she'll leave? I get the feeling she would.
Matty doesn't notice if I'm done. Doesn't ask beforehand if I'll walk her. Just assumes I will. That's no problem. We're staying in the hotel across the street until we get stuff sorted out, and Matty heads back.
Most women start in with the talk right away. It gets to the point you don't hear them, just shut them out. Hanging off your arm. Christine stays quiet. Then again, I haven't said a single word to her yet. She's prettier outside. It's raining a little. She doesn't make a fuss about her hair. Puts her face up, when she figures no one's watching. She's actually smiling, a little.
The drop's complete. She looks at it for a second, before giving the receipt to me. Probably would have just taken it home with her, and handed it over in the morning. Hadn't even thought about how she was going to get home. The previous owner said she lived close. Thanked me for walking her. Starts to walk off. There's no way I'm letting her walk home alone.
It wasn't a question when I said it. You don't let a woman walk home alone at that time of night. Made me smile a little, when she asked for a name. She has a sense of humour. A laugh in her voice, even when she's not laughing. Her smile makes the bridge of her nose wrinkle, her head drops a little. Cute.