Of Love and Blood (LoveLossLearnxHoratio)
The building was dingy and cold. Moonlight streamed in the only non-boarded up window. On the floor illuminated in those beams was a man, clutching his leg. He looked up in a pain-induced haze at the man who had shot him. He was standing there, cigarette hanging from his lips, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding the gun. He was the picture of nonchalance and Zeke was almost in awe of how someone could be so calm when threatening a person.
"So Ezekiel, changed your mind yet?" a thumb pushed up the brim of that fedora so Zeke was looking into dark, haunting eyes.
"I don't have your money!" the man spoke vehemently and clutched tighter at his bleeding leg.
"Mal loaned you that money out of the goodness of his heart and you don't repay him?" the mobster asked in fake surprise.
"Just give me more time!" tears leaked from Zeke's eyes and the other male clucked his tongue.
"Desperation is so unmanly Ezekiel," he kneeled next to the injured man and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Last chance, come work for Mal and we'll forgive this minor inconvenience," Zeke blinked then scowled.
"I'd never work for that devil's spawn!"
He'd said the wrong thing. The man's calm broke and he glared as he shot Zeke right in the head. The mobster smiled at the shocked look on his victim's face as the blood pooled around his skull, ruining that nice blonde hair.
Mick wiped some blood from his lip and walked towards the door. He needed a drink.
The Bigg Easy was a club right in the heart of Manhattan. It was owned by Mal's greatest ally, the illustrious Mr. Biggs who owned stock in every kind of business you could imagine. He practically owned half the city. And Mal owned the cops. Together they were a perfect team.
Mick smiled as he entered the club, letting the smooth jazz music wash over him as red eyes took in the crowd milling about the speakeasy-style room. Mick swore he'd been born in the wrong decade, he didn't belong here in the modern, no he belonged in the 20's. As his 20's style custom tailored suit clearly suggested. Mick knew he looked good and that was the way he liked it.
He walked up to the bar, where the barman instantly gave him his usual glass of rum. Mick sat with his back to the bar and watched the crowd. It was mostly people who worked for Mal and Biggs but a few non-family had made their way in as well. The brunette smiled, life as a mobster was good.