Paige Kennedy
The weekend following the Thirsty Thursday double-header was expectedly slow, even for the 501 Club. There were sparse few at the bar and even fewer at the tables. “Sol-Mates” may have been a distinctly uptown affair, but everyone liked a good excuse to party and the regular clientele had turned up to throw down and then call out the next day. Only the most devoted, alcoholic and utterly disconsolate populated the small club into the early morning hours. No ruckus filled the walls, only faint conversations and the distant sound of televisions repeatedly playing tired sports highlights alongside the unwavering lineup from the war beaten jukebox. The bartender, also the owner, poured another glass from tap for a customer while his only waitress played on her phone. He was on the verge of sending her home when the heavy front door opened.
Being the proprietor of a place like the 501 Club gave a man a certain access that couldn't be described. Whenever he felt like he’d truly seen everything, there was always a surprise around the corner. As insurance for just such an event, underneath the bar, hanging amongst the glasses, liquor bottles and rubber lines for the taps, was a sawed-off shotgun. When he saw the figure that came through his door, his face remained expressionless as he leaned on his elbow against the alcohol-weathered countertop looking her in the eye and, like he always did when he wasn’t quite sure which way things were going to go, felt for the reassuring steel of the barrel to be in its usual place. It was always loaded. He watched as she came through the doorway and turned to glance down the bar as if she knew exactly where to look. Even without her badge, he knew exactly who she was.
It wouldn’t have been quite as curious a situation if the man to whom he was considering selling the club wasn’t also present in a booth near the back wall along with his young bodyguard seated on the corner of the bar. The door closed with its signature heavy clamor that echoed across the whole floor and though it had banged open and shut all night, this time, everyone seemed to notice.
Yolo, who had nearly done a double take over his shoulder, got a wide grin and jumped from his stool, standing to face the woman down the line of tables and chairs. His right hand hovered over his hip where he kept a high-caliber revolver tucked old western style in its holster with the curved grip facing out, just out of reach of his slowly dancing fingers. Nikki Giancana, who had been enjoying a surprisingly decent cheeseburger happened to look up, mid-chew, when he sensed Yolo move from his seat. His mouth slowed on the bite as he looked past Yolo and made eye contact with her, the Marshal, Kennedy.
The door clamored again behind Paige as a few onlookers hastily bolted for the door while others slinked back away from the pair. Her hand rested firmly on the gun on her hip. The bartender motioned for his waitress to get out of sight, seeing her slightly spellbound by the scene in front of her. A blonde woman, not much different in age than herself, had a piercing aura about her like she’d never seen. It was nearly mesmerizing. Not like the wild brawls that typically erupted in the 501, it was measured and natural, like a predator. She could remember watching some nature documentary with her kids about wild cats in Africa or some place she’d never been, the look, it was like that, but human. She stepped back carefully behind the swinging door to the kitchen, still keeping it cracked to the outside so she could watch.
“I have to say, you really are exactly what i thought you’d be.” Yolo said finally. He kept his hand steady, but his eyes looked her up down. Black leather jacket, gray shirt, black jeans and the Converse sneakers she’d become known for wearing as the city’s most infamous law-woman. “When I first really saw you at the record store, I was only left... wanting.”
Paige huffed unimpressed. “How’s that bullet wound treating you?”
Yolo patted his side firmly with his other hand. “Good as new,” He said. “Your boyfriend can’t shoot for shit.” The playful reverence in his voice fell when he mentioned Milo.
“He still found his mark I think,” Paige said cooly. “Now get out of my way, I didn’t come here to talk to you-” She began to advance but stopped as he took a step forward to block her path. Her fingers instinctively settled over the precise grip on her gun, the familiar points where she would draw the fastest and the flow of a shot out of her hand would be near effortless. They looked at each other again for a moment as the song changed again and for a moment the machinations of the jukebox were the only sound in the building.
“This is the best part,” Yolo said. He was grinning wildly, eye settled on her. His hand hovered over the draw.
Paige exhaled almost without moving, her glance narrowed and her tilted forward only slightly. The song continued to play, but the whole floor of the 501 Club felt like it was stone silent. She exhaled slowly through her nose relaxing for the pull, if she was going to blast his bodyguard then the next stray bullet would catch Nikki right in the chest. She could make it look like an accident.
“That’s enough, Yolo.” Nikki interrupted. “As entertaining as this is, let’s see what the Marshal has to say.” He wiped his hands and tossed the napkin aside relaxing back in the booth.
Just like a switch had been pulled, the young man retracted completely as if his whole personality changed in an instant without protest or knowledge of what had even just occurred. “Yessir.” He said pushing his loosely rolled sleeves back up his arms and taking his seat back at the bar as if he were waiting for the next person that might come inside. Paige walked past him and he barely batted an eye as she sat down in the booth across from Nikki.
“Sorry about all that,” Nikki said dismissively. “I think he might be a little sweet on you, he gets that way when that happens.”
Paige ignored the comment completely, instead noticing a set of Cadillac keys on the table. “So where ya headed?”
“Oh? Why you need a lift?” Nikki replied.
“Where’d you think you were headed.” Paige replied. The momentary increase in adrenaline she felt from facing off with Yolo was wearing away quickly and she oddly felt relaxed, like he had actually helped her by being a brief distraction.
“Hmm, that sounds kinda ominous,” He said. “Getting right down to it, huh?” He was completely relaxed and crossed one leg broadly while resting one arm along the top of the booth.
“The sooner we get to it, the sooner we get it over with.” Paige said frankly. “No point in delaying the unpleasantness.”
“Oh are we headed for unpleasantness?”
“I’m going to offer you a deal,” She said. “But I’m not really confident you’re gonna take it.”
“Well, you know negative thinking yields negative results.”
Paige shrugged. “Well, it’s been an interesting last few weeks and months.”
“Well at least give me the chance to surprise you,” Nikki said. He had a certain undignified charm in his tone, that if he weren’t a murdering thug that had tried to kill her twice, he would almost be likeable. “No point starting a relationship just assuming people are going to disappoint you.”
“You’re right,” Paige said with a slight nod. “I want you to turn yourself in, confess to murder, racketeering, extortion and whatever other horrible things you’ve done.”
“Is that all?”
“You stay away from me and Milo for good, and anyone else we associate with.”
Nikki chuckled a little with a snort of amusement. “Or?”
“Or you’re gonna die in this city.” Paige said.
Nikki shifted slightly in his seat and smirked, glancing away briefly as if he were momentarily distracted in feigned consideration, “Well, you had it right not to be optimistic.”
“I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.” She could feel her heartbeat pick up again slightly.
“What kinda piece you carryin?” He asked.
“SiG 239”
“That the same one you used on my guys?” Nikki seemed at least somewhat interested in the answer.
“I killed the first one with my service Glock.” Paige couldn’t hide a tiny smirk at the answer.
“Pretty fancy kit for a Fed.”
“Well I know how to pick a winner.” She said, “What are you carrying?”
“Oh, I don’t carry a gun.” Nikki replied smoothly. He seemed slightly amused with her retort.
“Maybe you should start.”
“Why?” He snapped. “So you can have a reason?”
“Oh, I already have that.” Paige said darkly.
Nikki laughed and shook his head. “Cop threats…” He turned in his seat and rested his elbows on the table to face her directly, like he was speaking to a child. “I take one look at you and I know you’re not the type that’s just gonna execute me, it’s not who you are.” He said. “And don’t give me that bullshit story that got you transferred up here, I don’t have time for it, you roll up in here and that’s all you are, a bunch of stories and threats, knowing that if your bluff gets called you can still hide behind that badge.” He growled. “Well I don’t have a badge, all I got is my word so if I say I’m gonna kill you, your family, your boyfriend or that cunt sister-in-law of mine that you like to hang around, I’m gonna do it.” He tipped his head towards the window. “That’s all these animals out here understand and if I don’t do what I say then they’re gonna think they can come after me.” He pointed to the keys on the table. “You wanna know where I’m goin? I’m goin’ out that door and I’m gonna get on a plane to Florida and I’m gonna take care of Shannon first, but I’ll be back for you, so about the only chance you have at this point is if you take that gun outta your holster and end this, otherwise get the fuck out of my sight.”
“Well now we know each other.” Paige replied calmly.
“Threats…” Nikki again shook his head with disgust in the word.
“Relax, you’re still alive.”
-----------------------
The gravel lot of the 501 Club crunched under her sneakers as she walked away through the quiet dark. Her breath fogged as she exhaled and glanced up watching the landing strobes of an aircraft on approach to Old Sol as it passed high overhead. The lights flickered and the alarm chirped on her little M3 Sedan and she glanced over her shoulder briefly before stepping inside.
“Well what’d he say?” A dark figure in the passenger seat said.
Paige exhaled for a moment glancing over the hood into the night before turning the key to start the car. “He said he’s gonna kill me and Milo and probably my whole family.”
“Well, I pretty much figured that,” The woman said. “What’d he say about me?”
“He said you were a cunt and he’s gonna kill you first.” Paige replied. “But he thinks you’re in Florida.”
Shannon looked briefly at her own reflection in the passenger window, the curved features of her face and loose hair partially illuminated in the interior lights of the gauges as she thought. “That gives us some time then.”
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