Just once, I wished things would go back to fucking normal.
I chased away (or so I thought) Dolly's demons, we took care of Tom, and it seemed we took care of that ginger fuck that was following her. We had faced every problem life threw at us, we deserved a break. We deserved some God damned peace and quiet.
But things could never be normal, not in this city.
It was a few weeks ago when Dolly told me she thought she was being followed again. A few days after that, Zamara showed me an email from the ginger bastard, Chris Walsaw. He had tried to recruit her, persuade her into turning Dolly in. Apparently, being shot in the bloody hip wasn't enough of a hint to stay away.
The Dogs offered to help, coming up with some plan to have Navron blend in. As much as I appreciated it,I couldn't help but feel I needed to face this myself. I was Dolly's protector, not the Dogs. It was my job. But Del's words still loomed in the back of my mind. "You don't have to do this alone, pup. If you keep going on like this, you're going to get yourself killed."
And as I groaned, my stunned body against the floor, those words just wouldn't shut up.
******************
"Just stay in the apartment, and try to act normal." I made sure to sound confident over the phone as I exited the Bish, walking into the old, abandoned apartment complex across the street.
"Okay...Love you." Her voice was shaking. I knew she wouldn't feel safe unless I was there, but this was the only way to catch the bastard. Fell told me the day before that the Walsaw liked to watch us from an apartment building across the street; the very same one that I had just entered. "Love you too."
As I climbed the stairs to the sixth floor, I took in the building. Graffiti all over the walls, a constant smell of beer and piss, and the occasional homeless person taking advantage of the free rooms. It fit Mr. Walsaw: Filthy, smelly, and not worthy of a second glance. The stairs creaked all the way up to the sixth floor, and I set off the grimy hallway.
Room 601...602...603...and 604. Walsaw was in that room, if the Scott's facts were right. Now how to get in...The building was quiet, he would surely hear me open the door. I took out my phone, quickly texting Dolly. Hopefully the bastard had some sort of mic.
"Start playing music. Loud music. Wait a while after reading this."
I leaned against the door in silence, waiting for any sort of development. A few minutes later, I was surprised to hear a very loud baseline. She had put my Lil' Wayne CD in....Good choice.
I moved quickly, opening the door and slipping in, planting my back against the wall of the small hallway. I could hear Walsaw curse as the sudden loud noise erupted in his ears, his headset being thrown to the ground. I finally peaked around the corner, laying my eyes on the cunt. I tried my best to quell the rage building inside of me; I had to wait for the perfect moment.
Fuck it. It was time to rough him up.
I charged, his head turned in fear mixing delight with the previous rage. He reached for what looked like a CCG, but my shoulder connected with him first. He fell to the ground, grimacing as I loomed over him.
"You fucked up, mate."
A kick to the face. A bit cliche, but damn if it wasn't satisfying. He yelped in pain, his hands shooting to his face. I was able to make out a few expletives, but most of it was just garbled sounds of pain. I unholstered the Colby, giving him another kick to the stomach.
"Now, before I end your pathetic life, you're going to answer a few questions." Leaning my foot on his chest, I spoke down to him. "First off, why are you being a persistent cunt?"
He coughed, barking up at me. "She belongs in the hospital! It's what's best!" Wrong answer. I pushed down harder, his eyes showing a bit of panic.
"What's best for her is to stay with whom she loves. The man who protects her from sickos like you." I leveled the barrel at his face. "Why have you been after her for this long, anyway?"
"You weren't there!" Apparently, he wasn't going to answer any more questions. "You don't know a fucking thing, do you?" He looked up at me with anger burning in his eyes...Maybe even a bit of jealousy. I smirked, letting the pistol drop to my side, my foot letting off a bit.
"All right, mate. Why don't you fill me in on what I 'don't know.'"
His arm shot up, holding what I could only register was some kind of gun. Before I could dive out of the way, my whole body went numb.
"Son of a bitch..." Blackness.
*******************
I groaned as I started to come to, everything below my neck still being useless. A well armed clump on the floor. As every blur began to sharpen, I saw the ginger looming over me. I had underestimated him; let my guard down too easily.
"Tables have turned." He had an odd grin on his face. He was enjoying this, I could tell. He seemed like the kind of person that didn't come out on top much. His eyes burned again as he brought his fist back "You stupid fucking-AH!"
The fist connected with my face, causing my ears to ring. Luckily for me, the numbness and fact that he hit like a bitch made the blow that much easier to take. He was clutching his hand, trying his best to conceal the obvious pain he was in.
"Heh...You never punched someone before?" My voice was slow and heavy, but it still seemed to anger him.
"Shut up! You're going to answer MY questions!" He leaned in close; he smelled like cheap cologne and cheeseburgers. "What do you know about Peony Phorbes?"
"She died in fire, helping Dolly...Pris." He shook his head in a condescending fashion that made my insides burn.
"Priscella Phorbes died in that fire. Peony is the one that survived. Peony IS 'Dolly.' She was diagnosed with PTSD, Schizophrenia, and possible Multiple Personality Disorder. She was sent to a facility for treatment, and escaped. That's why I'm here."
"No, you dumb twat." I glared up at him. "Peony WAS her other personality. She was her guardian. But I sent her away." That only made Walsaw laugh in the same burn-inducing fashion. But there was some comfort: I was starting to feel my midsection.
"Sent her away? Christ, this isn't some fairy tale, Carlyle." My arms started to tingle. "She needs REAL medical attention, not some limey playing white knight."
"She just needs some ginger playing white knight, right?" I had got to him, I could see it in his face as my thighs started to come to life. "Be honest, this isn't really about helping her for you, it's about you trying to hook up with my fian-"
"Shut up!" He brought the stun pistol across my face, and now I could actually feel it. My head throbbed in pain, but my legs were coming to. His eyes burned into mine as he grabbed my shirt collar. "Shut the fuck up. You know nothing about me. You have no idea what she's been thr-"
That, honestly, was one of the most satisfying punches to the face in my life. He rolled off me, clutching his face as I slowly, unsteadily stood up. He quickly scrambled to his feet, sprinting out the door. I tried to give chase, but my recovering legs wouldn't let me, and I tumbled to the floor after the second stride.
And so I was left, staring at the ceiling, waiting to recover, and wishing Del's words would just give it a rest.
I chased away (or so I thought) Dolly's demons, we took care of Tom, and it seemed we took care of that ginger fuck that was following her. We had faced every problem life threw at us, we deserved a break. We deserved some God damned peace and quiet.
But things could never be normal, not in this city.
It was a few weeks ago when Dolly told me she thought she was being followed again. A few days after that, Zamara showed me an email from the ginger bastard, Chris Walsaw. He had tried to recruit her, persuade her into turning Dolly in. Apparently, being shot in the bloody hip wasn't enough of a hint to stay away.
The Dogs offered to help, coming up with some plan to have Navron blend in. As much as I appreciated it,I couldn't help but feel I needed to face this myself. I was Dolly's protector, not the Dogs. It was my job. But Del's words still loomed in the back of my mind. "You don't have to do this alone, pup. If you keep going on like this, you're going to get yourself killed."
And as I groaned, my stunned body against the floor, those words just wouldn't shut up.
******************
"Just stay in the apartment, and try to act normal." I made sure to sound confident over the phone as I exited the Bish, walking into the old, abandoned apartment complex across the street.
"Okay...Love you." Her voice was shaking. I knew she wouldn't feel safe unless I was there, but this was the only way to catch the bastard. Fell told me the day before that the Walsaw liked to watch us from an apartment building across the street; the very same one that I had just entered. "Love you too."
As I climbed the stairs to the sixth floor, I took in the building. Graffiti all over the walls, a constant smell of beer and piss, and the occasional homeless person taking advantage of the free rooms. It fit Mr. Walsaw: Filthy, smelly, and not worthy of a second glance. The stairs creaked all the way up to the sixth floor, and I set off the grimy hallway.
Room 601...602...603...and 604. Walsaw was in that room, if the Scott's facts were right. Now how to get in...The building was quiet, he would surely hear me open the door. I took out my phone, quickly texting Dolly. Hopefully the bastard had some sort of mic.
"Start playing music. Loud music. Wait a while after reading this."
I leaned against the door in silence, waiting for any sort of development. A few minutes later, I was surprised to hear a very loud baseline. She had put my Lil' Wayne CD in....Good choice.
I moved quickly, opening the door and slipping in, planting my back against the wall of the small hallway. I could hear Walsaw curse as the sudden loud noise erupted in his ears, his headset being thrown to the ground. I finally peaked around the corner, laying my eyes on the cunt. I tried my best to quell the rage building inside of me; I had to wait for the perfect moment.
Fuck it. It was time to rough him up.
I charged, his head turned in fear mixing delight with the previous rage. He reached for what looked like a CCG, but my shoulder connected with him first. He fell to the ground, grimacing as I loomed over him.
"You fucked up, mate."
A kick to the face. A bit cliche, but damn if it wasn't satisfying. He yelped in pain, his hands shooting to his face. I was able to make out a few expletives, but most of it was just garbled sounds of pain. I unholstered the Colby, giving him another kick to the stomach.
"Now, before I end your pathetic life, you're going to answer a few questions." Leaning my foot on his chest, I spoke down to him. "First off, why are you being a persistent cunt?"
He coughed, barking up at me. "She belongs in the hospital! It's what's best!" Wrong answer. I pushed down harder, his eyes showing a bit of panic.
"What's best for her is to stay with whom she loves. The man who protects her from sickos like you." I leveled the barrel at his face. "Why have you been after her for this long, anyway?"
"You weren't there!" Apparently, he wasn't going to answer any more questions. "You don't know a fucking thing, do you?" He looked up at me with anger burning in his eyes...Maybe even a bit of jealousy. I smirked, letting the pistol drop to my side, my foot letting off a bit.
"All right, mate. Why don't you fill me in on what I 'don't know.'"
His arm shot up, holding what I could only register was some kind of gun. Before I could dive out of the way, my whole body went numb.
"Son of a bitch..." Blackness.
*******************
I groaned as I started to come to, everything below my neck still being useless. A well armed clump on the floor. As every blur began to sharpen, I saw the ginger looming over me. I had underestimated him; let my guard down too easily.
"Tables have turned." He had an odd grin on his face. He was enjoying this, I could tell. He seemed like the kind of person that didn't come out on top much. His eyes burned again as he brought his fist back "You stupid fucking-AH!"
The fist connected with my face, causing my ears to ring. Luckily for me, the numbness and fact that he hit like a bitch made the blow that much easier to take. He was clutching his hand, trying his best to conceal the obvious pain he was in.
"Heh...You never punched someone before?" My voice was slow and heavy, but it still seemed to anger him.
"Shut up! You're going to answer MY questions!" He leaned in close; he smelled like cheap cologne and cheeseburgers. "What do you know about Peony Phorbes?"
"She died in fire, helping Dolly...Pris." He shook his head in a condescending fashion that made my insides burn.
"Priscella Phorbes died in that fire. Peony is the one that survived. Peony IS 'Dolly.' She was diagnosed with PTSD, Schizophrenia, and possible Multiple Personality Disorder. She was sent to a facility for treatment, and escaped. That's why I'm here."
"No, you dumb twat." I glared up at him. "Peony WAS her other personality. She was her guardian. But I sent her away." That only made Walsaw laugh in the same burn-inducing fashion. But there was some comfort: I was starting to feel my midsection.
"Sent her away? Christ, this isn't some fairy tale, Carlyle." My arms started to tingle. "She needs REAL medical attention, not some limey playing white knight."
"She just needs some ginger playing white knight, right?" I had got to him, I could see it in his face as my thighs started to come to life. "Be honest, this isn't really about helping her for you, it's about you trying to hook up with my fian-"
"Shut up!" He brought the stun pistol across my face, and now I could actually feel it. My head throbbed in pain, but my legs were coming to. His eyes burned into mine as he grabbed my shirt collar. "Shut the fuck up. You know nothing about me. You have no idea what she's been thr-"
That, honestly, was one of the most satisfying punches to the face in my life. He rolled off me, clutching his face as I slowly, unsteadily stood up. He quickly scrambled to his feet, sprinting out the door. I tried to give chase, but my recovering legs wouldn't let me, and I tumbled to the floor after the second stride.
And so I was left, staring at the ceiling, waiting to recover, and wishing Del's words would just give it a rest.
