Fallen Hunters-Bacchus

by Monica Owens

  I pulled out my cigarettes and put one to my lips. “How’s that not like Dottie and Fern?”

  “Well….” Marty trailed off. “Maybe it is.”

  I struck a match. “So this favor?”

  Marty nodded at me, then glanced at Joe and Mick. “Yeah. She doesn’t work with my girl. She works at Ebby’s.”

  I lowered the match, my cigarette barely touched. I stared at Marty as he fiddled with a pencil now, not meeting my eyes. “Ebby’s?” I asked.

  “Well, shit,” Joe responded.

  I looked at my guys. “Who wants to come?”

  “I do,” all three said.

  I slapped Marty on the back. “We’ll go tonight.”

  Chapter Three

  Ebby’s was a speakeasy that catered to some of the worst of Chicago’s underbelly. The liquor was cheap and so were the women. Fights broke out nightly, and a week couldn’t go by without a raid from the cops. It was no secret that Ebby’s was controlled by Al Capone.

  I’d never met the so-called crime kingpin. His men tried to steal shipments off us sometimes, but they never got the good liquor. How could they when it didn’t really exist? My corner of the world had never been darkened by Al Capone’s shadow.

  Me walking into one of his establishments might change that.

  But I sure as hell couldn’t walk away from a woman that might need our help. We’d dragged Fern out of a similar situation, except Fern had come asking for help. This time, all we had to go on was info from Marty’s girl, and I wasn’t even sure of her name.

  Only Mick came with me. We decided to pare down our operation so we wouldn’t call attention to ourselves. Just because I didn’t know Capone by sight didn’t mean that he didn’t know me. I sure didn’t want this to look like I was moving in on his turf.

  Ebby’s was loud and raucous. Which was part of its problem. Most speakeasies were hidden, you know, since selling alcohol was illegal. But Ebby’s wildness spilled out into the streets. It was a calculated move on Capone’s part. You throw a couple of drinking establishments out in the open and the police know where to look. Easier to keep the hidden ones hidden.

  We weren’t stopped from entering. We weren’t stopped from ordering drinks. The music, the loud laughter, the tinkling of glass, almost put my teeth on edge.

  “You all right, Angelo?” Mick asked me.

  “Yeah. Let’s find this bird.”

  We wandered through the crowd, me in front of Mick. Mick’s no slouch, that’s for sure. He’s over six feet and used to fight on the underground circuit. So his fists are meaty and his chest broad. But I had a few inches on him and a few more pounds.

  And I’m the boss.

  So I moved through the crowd, attempting to find a seat. Nothing. We ended up leaning against a wall at the back of the establishment.

  “See her?” Mick asked.

  Marty had gotten a written description from his girl. We were looking for a blonde, curly hair, blue eyes, short, with a “frightened look about her.” While most would consider that vague, the thing that would help us would be the frightened look.

  “Nope.”

  “Me either. Marty’s girl said she’s working tonight.”

  “Yeah.” I pulled out a cigarette and my matchbook. Just as I struck the match, I heard a scuffle to my right.

  Both Mick and I turned to see a short blonde with curly hair struggling against the hold of a man who towered over her. She struggled, but he pulled her forward, her shoes sliding along the floor. We both heard her desperate pleas of help and her strong, “No!”

  I shook the match out. “Think we found her.”

  “Yeah.”

  We left our drinks on a table and skirted through the crowd. The big guy had taken our blonde down a hallway behind the bar. It was so busy that no one noticed us stealing back where we didn’t belong.

  There were two doors along the hallway and one was open. Mick looked in on an office and glanced back at me to shake his head. Down to one door.

  “I’ll bust in,” I told him, pulling out my piece. “You watch the bar.”

  “Got it.”

  As Mick walked the few steps away, I heard a stifled feminine scream from behind the warped wooden door. Then a crack of flesh against flesh. Hell no. He did not just hit her.

  I cracked my patent leather shoe right under the door knob, the scarred wood buckling and splintering around my foot. I heard another shriek and I jammed my foot against the door again. This time, the door knob jolted away from the lock and the door flew open and back against a wall.

  The scene inside made my blood run cold.

  I held my piece up, aiming it at the man with his pants undone and his arm around the blonde’s throat.

  “Let her go.”

  “Fuck you,” he returned. “This one’s mine.”

  “Yeah, well, we got a problem then.”

  “Doc said I could have her.”

  “I don’t know who the fuck Doc is, but she isn’t his to give.” I couldn’t look at her, not directly, but I did see her frightened face out of the corner of my eye. Her nose was bloodied and her hair a mess.

  “Yeah, and who the fuck are you?”

  I cocked my gun. “I’m the fucker who’s gonna shoot you if you don’t let her the fuck go.”

  He hesitated and I saw the wheels turn in his tiny brain. He squeezed her tightly for a moment, then let her go with a shove. She stumbled out of his grasp, hit a shelf, and barely stopped her body from falling. She didn’t look up, just clung to the wood.

  The bastard who had her took his time doing up his pants, all under my glare. When he passed her, she flinched and he noticed the movement.

  “Next time I get my hands on you—”

  “Don’t speak to her,” I interrupted.

  He bared his teeth at her, but she didn’t look at him. He walked on and stopped next to me. “Know who you’re fucking with?” he asked.

  I didn’t take my eyes off him. I had a good five inches on him, and I sure as fuck wasn’t worried about him. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  He grinned at me, his teeth black in his gums. “You will.” He lurched off down the hall, even banging his shoulder into Mick.

  Mick looked over at me. “Want me to watch the door?”

  I holstered my gun. “Yeah. Would you?”

  I went inside and shut the door quietly. Through the splintered hole in the door, I saw Mick take up residence outside. Only then did I look over at the girl in this filthy closet.

  “You all right?”

  She still hadn’t lifted her head, so I couldn’t see her face. But she nodded. I walked closer and she flinched away from me.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She shook her head.

  Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either.

  “Is your name Charlotte?”

  Even if it wasn’t, this bird was going home with me and Mick. Taking that last apartment on the third floor.

  But she looked up when I said her name, her luminous blue eyes drifting up over my shoes, pants, jacket, all the way to my face. A dark bruise blossomed on her cheekbone and blood still trickled out of her nose.

  She was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen outside of Heaven.

  Chapter Four

  I waited a heartbeat, then two, for her to answer. “How do you know my name?”

  “Your roommate. Said you were in over your head.”

  Tears crested in her eyes, but she said nothing.

  “Lots of young girls come out to the big city expecting to wait tables or clean houses and end up in your situation. Want to tell me about it?”

  She pulled at her dirty apron and wiped her nose, wincing. “No.”

  “Here.” I pulled out a clean handkerchief and gave it to her. “Take that apron off. You won’t need it.”

  Here she put up a small fight. “This is my job.”

  “That fucker was going to rape you, Charlotte,” I said harshly. “Still w
ant this job?”

  Now a tear coasted down her unblemished cheek. She quickly took the apron off and tossed it onto a shelf. My handkerchief took care of smudges of dirt and some blood, but her nose still trickled.

  I stepped forward and took the cloth. “Hold still.”

  I threaded my hand through her silky hair and tilted her head back. Her big blue eyes wandered over my face as I squeezed the bridge of her nose lightly. One delicate hand held my wrist, giving her some semblance of power.

  I met her eyes. “In too deep, baby-doll?”

  More luscious tears formed. All I could see of her face was her eyes and they spoke volumes even though she didn’t answer.

  Mick knocked on the door. “Big guy’s coming back this way.”

  Charlotte jostled me, the handkerchief falling out of my hand, clinging tight to my chest. “Please don’t let him take me.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen. Just trust me.”

  She swallowed. She nodded once.

  I wrapped an arm around her and swung the door open. Mick glanced back, then did a double take on the bird. “She all right?”

  “Nope,” I answered. “Let’s go.”

  I took the lead again, heading straight for the big guy. Charlotte clung to me, her nails digging into the material of my suit. As we approached the big guy, he stopped walking, his brows drawn together in anger.

  “She’s mine,” he hissed when we reached him.

  “Funny, that’s not what she said.”

  “So you believe a whore over the man who paid for her?”

  I narrowed my eyes but didn’t let my gaze wander from his. “Did he give you money, Charlotte?”

  She moved closer, if at all possible. “No.”

  I shrugged, then shoved past him.

  “I know who you are!” he shouted.

  I shrugged again, kept walking, and hoped Mick had my back. Which he did, of course. I didn’t deign to answer the meathead behind me.

  “Look out, de Bacchio! Hope no one burns down your shit!”

  I stopped. Mick almost collided with me. I turned my head slowly. “Mick, did I just hear that fucker threaten me?”

  The smile spread through Mick’s voice. “Yeah, you did.”

  I pulled out my matches and used my thumbnail to rub along the heads. “Thought so.” I raked harder and all the matches combusted. Neat trick. Learned it in Hell off a fire demon. I tossed the lit packet onto the nearest table and moved quicker to the door. Mick raced in front of us and opened the door while bouncers, patrons, and working girls all battled to put out the fire.

  We moved out into the cool March air and I wrapped my arms around Charlotte. “Gotta move quick, baby-doll.” I heaved her over my shoulder and she let out a squeak, then we sprinted down the street where Mick and I left our car. Mick chased after me, his spats slapping along the pavement in a steady rhythm.

  I wasn’t even winded when I made it to the car. I pulled Charlotte off my shoulder and set her on the ground. She almost fell to the sidewalk.

  “No time for falling, baby-doll,” I told her. I wrenched open the car door and pushed her inside. I followed her in just as Mick made it to the car and started it up. I heard a bullet wing the side of the car and I pulled my piece. I didn’t even aim when I shot behind us. If that no-good meathead wanted to hit us, he would’ve. No, he was gonna take this to his boss.

  Mick pulled out into the street and stepped on the gas. He grinned over Charlotte’s head at me. “That was fun.”

  Fun, yeah.

  I glanced down at Charlotte as she huddled on the seat between us. But what the hell had I gotten us into?

  Chapter Five

  I studied Charlotte as she sat on the leather couch in the bookstore office. I was behind the desk, my leg jumping with adrenaline. She was fucking beautiful. Even with the blood spattering her dress and neck and the biggest bruise blossoming on her cheek. I needed to get laid if a beat up bird like this could get me hard. And I was a rock.

  “You got a story?”

  “No.”

  “Everyone’s got a story.”

  “Oh, yeah?” she asked softly. “What’s yours?”

  Using every ounce of sarcasm in my body, I shrugged. “I’m a fucking fallen angel. Used to be a Roman god, or so I tricked people into believing. Now I’m just a lowly criminal.”

  She jerked her head up. “Liar. Don’t make fun.”

  I spread my hands. “Just a gangster, baby-doll.”

  She swallowed. “I’m from a farm in Nebraska.”

  “Why’d you come here?” I asked when she said nothing else.

  “My father’s sick….” she trailed off and shook her head. “There was no other choice.”

  “You didn’t come here to get raped,” I told her. She blushed and felt her nose, which had started purpling. “You didn’t even come here to waitress. So why Chicago? You think you could make it big here? You an actress or something?”

  “No.”

  “Why not stay in your town then?”

  She kept staring at her dress, the green spangles contrasting perfectly with her hair. Wait, when did I get to be interested in women’s fashion? Fuck, the rag hung on her and half the spangles were gone. The feather in her hair was limp and stringy. If she’d worn any makeup, it was long gone.

  “My father mortgaged the farm,” she whispered. “There was a banker….”

  Didn’t need to say more. “I’m sure that banker was more than happy to rip up that note if you’d marry him or at least be his main squeeze.”

  “Something like that,” she answered, her cheeks stained bright red.

  “How much do you need?”

  Her head jerked up. “What?”

  I took a key from my pocket and unlocked the middle drawer. I pulled it open while repeating my question. “How much do you need?”

  “A lot,” she said with narrowed eyes.

  There was a pile of bank notes in the drawer and I flicked through them with my thumb. A quick guess was five thousand dollars in that drawer. How much did you mortgage a farm for?

  She was up and off the couch and slapping her hand on the desk. “Look, I’m not here to be your whore, even if you did save me from that lout.” She looked down and saw the pile of money. “Where did you get that?”

  “Gangster, remember?”

  “You can’t throw money at this and make it better.”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t know me,” she said exasperated.

  “So?”

  “So you can’t give me money to save my family’s farm. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “You got a younger sister?” I asked suddenly.

  She paled and took a step back.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. How much time did that banker give you out here before he takes your sister instead of you?” I yanked the notes out and slammed the drawer. “Ask any of my guys, Charlotte, we use our money to help people who need it. You can keep working here and pay off the debt. I promise I’m a helluva better person to owe money to than some crooked banker.”

  “I-I….”

  “Yeah, don’t know what to say, do you?” I leaned over the desk and thrust my face at her. “Your idea to come to the big city and make money just changed. You got your money, however much it is, all you gotta do is work until I say you’ve paid it back.”

  She gulped. “How-how long…?”

  “However long I say.”

  She stepped back again and finally dropped back onto the couch.

  “Plus, this shit started something with your boss, you know that, right?”

  Now the blush that had been so fucking sexy turned her cheeks as bright as a tomato. She nodded.

  “Want to tell me what’s going on there?”

  She shook her head, not denying an answer, just in confusion. “I’m not sure. He said to get some men under my belt.”

  “Yeah, makes sense for a gem like Capone.” I softened my voice and sighed. �
�How much, Charlotte?”

  Her blue eyes were glassy, dazed. “Three thousand.”

  “There’s no way you were gonna make that kinda bread here.”

  “I had to try.”

  Her broken answer twisted in my gut. I could see the love in her eyes for her family. The fight in her to make all this better for them. But shit wasn’t going to go down like she thought it would.

  “We’ll wire the money in the morning.”

  She looked at me. “I won’t have sex with you.”

  “Glad you’re honest about that. But give me a chance, would you? I clean up nice.”

  I could smell the anxiety she exuded.

  I decided to take pity on her. I quelled a sigh and got up. I sat next to her on the couch and touched a finger to her damaged cheek. “Baby-doll, if you want to have sex with me, it’ll be because you want it, not because I’m giving you three thousand dollars. I’ll try to turn on the charm—”

  She rolled her eyes. I didn’t think she could help it. Her body was wounded but not her spirit. Thank God.

  “But I gotta say, I’ve got a lot going for me. Look at this mug,” I continued, pointing to my face. “How can you say no to this?”

  “Easy,” she teased back and I saw a flash of the young girl she used to be. Before she came East. A smile flirted across her face, then faded. “You’re sure about the money?”

  “Sure as shit.”

  “No, seriously, because I—”

  “I make money hand over fist, baby-doll. I couldn’t spend it all if I tried. We’ll wire it in the morning. All right?”

  One second she was sitting there, huddled in on herself. The next she’d flung herself at me, her arms encircling my neck and her body plastered to mine. She smelled like lemon and cake. Her skin was soft on my cheek and her breasts pressed against my chest.

  My bastard cock ached at the feel of her. Sure she was pretty, maybe even beautiful once the swelling and bruising went away. But I couldn’t afford to take this little virgin. My sins were many and damning. No need to damn her, too.

  But she squeezed me close until my arms went around her and I found myself hugging her back. Just a quick turn and my nose nuzzled her cheek. She didn’t notice. So I inhaled sharply, the scent of this woman. This girl, really. Inhaled her and held her scent in.