Pain
~ The Knife that Cuts Deepest ~
“I suppose you could say that I’m his problem.” Vera grumbled, sticking her hands under the pits of her arms. Her mood towards Shay had soured exceptionally, especially at his recent behaviour. So what? Was he angry with her for trying to justify the situation? While she couldn’t fully comprehend what was going on in that mind of his, she could tell something bothered him deep down.
“What does that mean? You two have a lover’s quarrel or something like that?” Sam asked, popping a cigarette in his mouth, and held out one to Vera, to which she readily accepted, though her brows were raised up in surprise. “C’mon V, don’t play dumb with me. Everyone has been talking about you.” He nodded at the Tawdry to indicate those within had been aware of the growing relationship between Shay and her.
With a hand rubbing her brow, she swiped the book of matches away from her brother, lit the end of her cigarette and then crushed matchstick beneath the toe of her shoe. “It’s because… of me. You know… what got us into this problem in the first place, eh?”
“You mean your problem?”
“It’s not a
problem,” Vera growled, giving her brother a deathly glare full of hate, “I have it all under control.”
“Mmm. I beg to differ on that.” Sam interjected. “You were running through a daze, another binge again. Don’t act like I haven’t noticed before, or Frankie, or Mr. Harrison. I tried to call you two days ago, and you wouldn’t wake up. Imagine what that does to Shay.”
“What about it, Sam? Get to the point and quit trying to pussyfoot around whatever it is you’re trying to say.”
“Let me put it like this… When a man expresses interest in a woman, and she returns it, but then she flies into a rage, kicks the man she supposedly loves out of her apartment, even though he didn’t do anything to be kicked out in the first place, he’s going to feel rejected. Spiteful, even. Think about it. That fight that you and I had, that was just between us. Shay had nothing to do with it, yet you punished him like he had done something wrong. Christ. Vera, he took a bloody bullet for you.”
“Yea, and I bloody well saved his life!” She interrupted, throwing her cigarette down in disgust. Hot tears stung her eyes as she gritted her teeth in anger, and began pacing in a small circle beside the Peugeot. “Y-you’d think, th-that he’d at least thank me for th-that!” She stuttered as a wave of tears rocked her body, she doubled over in inner anguish and wrapped her arms around herself.
With a heavy-hearted sigh, Sam flicked away the remains of his own cigarette, and pulled Vera into him. On instinct, she buried her face into his jacket, and let out a roll strangled sobs. Cries that she tried to stop, but the emotional release felt too good to fight it back anymore. Ever since the morning’s drive out to the Goethe’s, she had been waiting for a moment like this, to let it all out, to grieve for her mistakes. While one arm held her tight, the other stroked her back in a comforting manner as Sam rested his chin on her shoulder. He could smell the faint lavender perfume that she wore, and felt vaguely reminded of their deceased mother. When she seemed to have cried herself out of it, Sam pulled back, and grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Her eyes were red and puffy, as was her nose. A half-smile crossed his lips as he was reminded of their yester years, of the day Vera had fallen and scraped her knees when playing chase with the boys. She looked the same as she did then. Frustrated, hurt, and angry at herself.
“There. Do you feel better now?” He asked, fishing out his handkerchief from his coat pocket, and used a fresh corner to wipe away her tears, doing his best to erase all evidence of her pain. She didn’t have the courage to speak, so she simply nodded her head yes in response. “Vera… I love you. You’re the only family we have, and I don’t like to see you upset. But sometimes, you bring this upon yourself. As a person, let alone a woman, you have a self-destructing nature. You never let anyone love you, because you always end up pushing people away that care about you the most. Shay is a good man. I like him just as much as you do, but I would hate to see either one of you upset. There’s only one way you can fix this. You have to apologize to him. If he loves you, and his pride isn’t too injured, he’ll forgive you.”
Her light blue eyes had drifted to the pavement underfoot. Her mind was awhirl with an endless train of thoughts. There was so much she wanted to say, to Sam, to Shay, but nothing would come out. With a spring, she tossed her arms about her brother’s neck, whispered in his ear. “Thank you Sam.” He hugged her with one arm, and let go when she pulled away.
“C’mon, let’s get you inside. A nice drink will warm you right up.” Sam said as he held the door open to the Tawdry, waiting for his sister to pass through.
❖❖❖
“Lady Vera, a pleasure as always. What can I get for you?” Frankie asked as she came to stand at the bar. At first she had taken a distant stance from Shay, one that came across as standoffish, or perhaps aloof, but Sam was quick to remedy that as he stood on the outside of Vera, and pushed her nonchalantly towards Shay.
“Where do I start?” Vera sighed, and then remembered Sam’s words. Her attitude wouldn’t help the situation with Shay. Putting a hand to her forehead, she inhaled slowly to calm her frayed nerves. When she lifted her head, she cast a quick glance at Shay before putting on a false smile for Frankie. “How about a Bee’s Knees?”
“Right you are.” Frankie said as he slapped the countertop of the bar, and set a tumbler on the counter. With a bottle of gin in one hand, and a jar of honey in the other, he measured out the gin, stirred some honey into mix, and then squeezed fresh lemon into tumbler. He pushed it towards Vera, and watched her closely.
“Here Frankie.” She said, as she reached into her coat pocket to pay him.
“Ah ah, Tommy’s orders. Tips only for those on a job. Free drinks for the lot of you.” The older man said. He had a long face with thin lips that were always ready to smile, his thinning hair gave him the appearance that his head was larger that it actually was.
“Oh… well, thank you.” She smiled, feeling a bit ashamed at the sudden charity.
“Sure thing. Say, they haven’t arrived yet, but Grant and Jonny want to speak with the three of you when they get here.” Frankie said as he sidled on down the bar to another customer, someone from the local area.
Now, the three of them were sitting together in an awkward silence. Vera sipped heavily on her cocktail, wishing all the while that she hadn’t acted the way she did, that she could rest her head on Shay’s shoulder, breathe in the scent of his cologne, and feel safe all over again. It was like they had never gone to see the von Goethe’s at all, like Vera had shared intimacy with Shay. Turning in her seat, her eyes swept across the Tawdry, searching for no one in particular. With Sam seated next to her, he drummed his fingers on the counter, pretending as if nothing was amiss. She spotted Eris Hawkins, Miriam Dorsey, Elouise, Silas, Matthew, and the Lindsey brother’s. Feeling defeated in her attempt to make douse the fire of her emotions towards Shay, she turned back around in her chair and turned to face, though she gazed not at his face, but at the tumbler in his hands.
“Shay-” Before she had a chance to begin, the door to the Tawdry flew open, and in strode John Kirby, and Grant Wallis. The pair spotted the trio seated at the counter, but Grant departed to the private office that Tommy often used, and Jonny approached them at the bar.
“Hello boys, miss Vera, I’m glad to see that you had a safe trip. Come, Grant and I have some things to discuss with you lot in the office.” With that, he clapped Sam and Shay on the shoulders, for he was a tall man, standing in at 6’5, so his arms spread out were of an equal length.
❖❖❖
When they were all seated inside the office, Grant sat behind the desk that Tommy had sat less than a week prior, addressing Vera on the matters of becoming an active member of the Roughers, while Jonny leaned against the wall, cradling a glass full of whisky.
“Did you locate the painting?” Grant asked, using his one good eye to look between Shay and Vera. He lost the use of his left eye in the war, a shard of shrapnel from a mine flew up, and destroyed the cornea. Now, a modest, black eye-patch covered the blind eye. From time to time, he still suffered the loss of his other eye. He had a hard time perceiving depth perception, and often ended up dropping glasses where he presumed the edge of a table would be. Now, his brothers preferred for him not to drive, or wield a gun, in case he did more harm than necessary.
“Yes.”
“Was it the original, like our proprietor mentioned?”
“Yes, it was.”
“And Sam, did you have a chance to survey the property?” Grant asked, shifting his eye over to him.
“Yessir. The only problems that could arise, are the gatekeeper, and the wrought iron fence they have surrounding the property.”
“Does this fence encompass the entirety of the property on their estate?”
“From what I can tell. They have over twenty acres of land, though I’m not sure if it runs the entire length. I didn’t have the chance to ask the gatekeeper, as he was interested in the Peugeot. The poor bloke had never seen a car so fine, so I let him drive it up and down the road with me in it.”
“...you let him drive the car?” Grant asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Yes. I wanted him to like me, and by doing so I gained some valuable information. Such as, the von Goethe’s keep no dogs on the property because Herr Goethe is allergic. You would be pleased to know that their entire wait-staff totals sixteen employees. A cook, ten maids and one butler, the gatekeeper, and three groundskeepers that rotate throughout the year depending on the season.”
“Impressive.” Grant mused, his eye shifted to Shay, where it lingered. Vera wasn’t certain if he was sizing him up, or trying to formulate a question.
“What of you, Shay? Anything of significant importance that you can share with us?”
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