Still Life With Taylor
folder
Individual Celebrities › Vin Diesel
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
1,828
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Individual Celebrities › Vin Diesel
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
1,828
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.
9
::NINE::
Tension pours back into him, as we near the back of the bar. A dark town car squats low, lurking, behind the dumpster. Two heads within. His hand on my hip. I'm no longer a thing held but a thing owned, his easy stride grown cautious and purposeful. An air of violence that eases, only slightly, when Matty opens the passenger side door, holding it open. He has put himself between me and the car, something I'm not sure even he realizes he's done.
"Good morning, Christine." Matty's reaching for my elbow. I look to Taylor, his eyes flash blackly at Matty, for a moment.
"It's all right. This won't be long."
This last said to Matty. An unspoken ending to that sentence thick in the air between the two men. The window is powered down, he leans in the window, absently stroking my neck with his knuckles, looking at the other man in the driver's seat. Benny's man, from the night before.
"I'll guard her with my life, Taylor, don't worry."
"Make sure that you do, Sal."
A whisper to me, before turning, "Don't worry, I said nothing would happen to you, Christine."
With that, both Taylor and Matty walk back to the trunk of the car.
"This shit has to end, Matty."
"We can't deal with this completely by ourselves, Taylor. It's too much for just the two of us. They'll be back."
"So let's get out. Go somewhere else. We don't need this."
"With what, Taylor? Everything I've got left is sunk into this bar. This bar is legit. The only goddamned legitimate thing I've ever done. If I lose this place, what the hell have I got left? Crawl back to my old man? Be 'Dimes' the gopher til I turn up dead somewhere? I can't get a job pumping gas without grief, with my name. I'm staying, Taylor. I don't have much of a choice. I have to stick this out. I have to try."
He's asking, doesn't want to ask. Fuck, doesn't need to ask. Look over the trunk, at Christine. If we left this bar, what would they do to her, if they found her? A question I don't even want to ask myself. Would she go with me?
"I won't let her get hurt, either, Taylor. I swear to you. But if we don't take care of this, they'll come after her too. She has more to lose than either of us, she lives here. She's as much a part of this now as we are. They're not going to just forget about her part in all this. She's safer if we take care of this. She's safer if she's here."
We've been friends since we were kids. I'm an open book to him. Don't even have to say it, he knows it already, just by looking at me.
We take the handguns from the trunk, making sure they're loaded. Let Matty carry the bag, I'll be going in first, make sure the place is clean, and that we don't have any surprises waiting for us. Matty opens the door, keeping to the side. A last look at Christine, before I drop low, sweeping the doorway at the back. We move through the bar, searching each room, making sure. We'll have to do this every time we come in now, at least for the next while. Leave Matty inside. Go back for Christine.
"Thank you, Sal."
Sal doesn't say anything to that, just taking her hands in his, patting her hands, like his own daughters'.
"You take care of this one, Taylor."
We lost the last of our bartenders. Slid a notice under the door. I guess it's just me now. Nothing is mentioned about what happened this morning. I knew, when this began, that there were connections involved. You can't swing a cat without hitting connections in this neighbourhood. I'm in the middle of it now. No way out but through.
There's a second shotgun under the bar now, right next to the first. I don't ask. I know that it came in with the rest. There's a part of me that wants to run. I'm not a brave person. I've never really had to be. But I remember Taylor's whispered words to me, twice, that nothing would happen to me. I remember Sal, in the car, telling me that if anyone could take care of the problem, take care of me, it would be Taylor, and that I could trust him with my life. I watch the two men now, the tension in the air something alive and feral. I will be what I have always been. Still. Quiet.
Run my hand down the bar. Turn off the bright lights overhead, leaving the small pots to reflect the gold glow from the varnished surface. Make coffee first.
Somewhere in there, the two men turn to me, as one, say nothing, but watch, as I let the routine wash over me. Shut my churning thoughts down, and surrender to the quiet inside. Put the pint glasses, filled with coffee on the bar, turn back to filling the well with ice. When I come back, they're sitting, with their coffee. I join them, with my own, sitting next to Taylor. We sit quietly, wondering if anyone else will show up for their shift, or if we're alone.
Tension pours back into him, as we near the back of the bar. A dark town car squats low, lurking, behind the dumpster. Two heads within. His hand on my hip. I'm no longer a thing held but a thing owned, his easy stride grown cautious and purposeful. An air of violence that eases, only slightly, when Matty opens the passenger side door, holding it open. He has put himself between me and the car, something I'm not sure even he realizes he's done.
"Good morning, Christine." Matty's reaching for my elbow. I look to Taylor, his eyes flash blackly at Matty, for a moment.
"It's all right. This won't be long."
This last said to Matty. An unspoken ending to that sentence thick in the air between the two men. The window is powered down, he leans in the window, absently stroking my neck with his knuckles, looking at the other man in the driver's seat. Benny's man, from the night before.
"I'll guard her with my life, Taylor, don't worry."
"Make sure that you do, Sal."
A whisper to me, before turning, "Don't worry, I said nothing would happen to you, Christine."
With that, both Taylor and Matty walk back to the trunk of the car.
"This shit has to end, Matty."
"We can't deal with this completely by ourselves, Taylor. It's too much for just the two of us. They'll be back."
"So let's get out. Go somewhere else. We don't need this."
"With what, Taylor? Everything I've got left is sunk into this bar. This bar is legit. The only goddamned legitimate thing I've ever done. If I lose this place, what the hell have I got left? Crawl back to my old man? Be 'Dimes' the gopher til I turn up dead somewhere? I can't get a job pumping gas without grief, with my name. I'm staying, Taylor. I don't have much of a choice. I have to stick this out. I have to try."
He's asking, doesn't want to ask. Fuck, doesn't need to ask. Look over the trunk, at Christine. If we left this bar, what would they do to her, if they found her? A question I don't even want to ask myself. Would she go with me?
"I won't let her get hurt, either, Taylor. I swear to you. But if we don't take care of this, they'll come after her too. She has more to lose than either of us, she lives here. She's as much a part of this now as we are. They're not going to just forget about her part in all this. She's safer if we take care of this. She's safer if she's here."
We've been friends since we were kids. I'm an open book to him. Don't even have to say it, he knows it already, just by looking at me.
We take the handguns from the trunk, making sure they're loaded. Let Matty carry the bag, I'll be going in first, make sure the place is clean, and that we don't have any surprises waiting for us. Matty opens the door, keeping to the side. A last look at Christine, before I drop low, sweeping the doorway at the back. We move through the bar, searching each room, making sure. We'll have to do this every time we come in now, at least for the next while. Leave Matty inside. Go back for Christine.
"Thank you, Sal."
Sal doesn't say anything to that, just taking her hands in his, patting her hands, like his own daughters'.
"You take care of this one, Taylor."
We lost the last of our bartenders. Slid a notice under the door. I guess it's just me now. Nothing is mentioned about what happened this morning. I knew, when this began, that there were connections involved. You can't swing a cat without hitting connections in this neighbourhood. I'm in the middle of it now. No way out but through.
There's a second shotgun under the bar now, right next to the first. I don't ask. I know that it came in with the rest. There's a part of me that wants to run. I'm not a brave person. I've never really had to be. But I remember Taylor's whispered words to me, twice, that nothing would happen to me. I remember Sal, in the car, telling me that if anyone could take care of the problem, take care of me, it would be Taylor, and that I could trust him with my life. I watch the two men now, the tension in the air something alive and feral. I will be what I have always been. Still. Quiet.
Run my hand down the bar. Turn off the bright lights overhead, leaving the small pots to reflect the gold glow from the varnished surface. Make coffee first.
Somewhere in there, the two men turn to me, as one, say nothing, but watch, as I let the routine wash over me. Shut my churning thoughts down, and surrender to the quiet inside. Put the pint glasses, filled with coffee on the bar, turn back to filling the well with ice. When I come back, they're sitting, with their coffee. I join them, with my own, sitting next to Taylor. We sit quietly, wondering if anyone else will show up for their shift, or if we're alone.