Romeo's Right Hand Man

@redsoconnor

13 posts

blueknivesandyounglives

redsoconnor:

“I thought you would…” Reds said with a fake tremble on his lips.

Reds kept a steady flow of cigarettes to his lips on the walk to Little John’s. He was worried about his family. The safe house would be the best place for them, but that would involve pulling the little ones out of school. Moira could teach them at home, but they were a rambunctious bunch. Little Clara especially. It wouldn’t surprise him if Clara grew up to be just like “Aunt Timber.”

Before he could speak, Reds ducking behind a cart. He didn’t even realize that Timber had been shot. “Where the fuck did these fuckers come from?” He screamed as he took his gun out and shot blindly into the alley.”

“God dammit!” She seethed as she changed the gun into her other hand, her wounded arm loose at her side. She fired in tandem with Reds, ignoring the screams and mayhem it caused in the streets. Timber saw one of their would-be assassins cry out and fall, and took aim at another.

“They were fucking waiting for us! How the fuck did they know we’d be coming, Reds?!” Wood splintered over their heads, bullets pinging off the street around them.

“We gotta go–we gotta get better cover. On the count of three, we gotta book it inside. You with me??”

“Fuckers...” He said as he shot some more. He glanced back at Timber and pushed her down a little bit more to keep her from getting hit. “I would normally say ‘ladies first,’ but you gotta run beside me and close. The last thing I need is you getting shot.” He touched her arm but recoiled back. “Guess it’s too late for that.” He muttered. It didn’t look life threatening, at least from this angle. He’ll take a look at it when they’re safe.

“Three!” He was going to be her human shield. There was no hesitation that he would let the bullets rain down on him. If he didn’t, Romeo would kill him. He was dead either way.

blueknivesandyounglives

romeofoley:

Romeo nodded his head slowly. This woman could handle herself, and for that he was grateful, but it wasn’t as though it was one less thing to worry about. She was family. More than family, but he didn’t want to think about that. It was easy to replace those feelings with work. Priorities were simple. These feelings he had were not.

There was no such thing as resting in her flat. Perhaps some tension relief, which he needed. But having her by his side offered some peace. Sometimes he would lay beside her, thinking of what life would be like if he wasn’t in this business. Maybe he’d live in a secluded area by the beach where he didn’t have to watch his back. Maybe he could go fishing. He’s never been fishing before. In all of his scenarios, Timber and Reds were at his side. However, it was Timber whom he would take his morning coffee with and discuss the news. He’d skip over the obituaries.

“I’ll be over later tonight.” He said before going back to his messed up desk.

However many years they’d known one another, Timber still had a difficult time reading Romeo. That was by design, she figured–if he wanted her to, she would. Problem was, he never wanted her to. Didn’t mean she didn’t still catch a peak now and again. Probably irritated the shit out of him. With luck, she would continue to do so, and likely longer than he’d like.

She watched him return to business as usual–as well as he could with what he’d done to the place. Assured that they would both be fine, she stepped back. “C’mon, there’s work to do.” She grabbed at Red’s shoulder and tugged. “I gotta grab Little John and you gotta scoot home to the family.”

Reds gave Romeo a firm nod. “I’ll make sure that Moira makes some extra food for you both.” He wasn’t going to stay with them to dinner. A quick delivery before heading back to his house. Moira would surely want to come along to check up on Romeo and Timber, but Moira would start tidying up Romeo’s place, and taking Timber aside to ask her how she’s doing and tell her about all of the kids and how they miss her while begging her to stop by.

Reds knew that they needed alone time.

“I’ll walk you to Little John’s.” He said putting his cap on. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

blueknivesandyounglives

“No, guess you wouldn’t. But who’s gonna hold your hand going home, big guy?” Timber shrugged into her jacket. It wasn’t the time to joke, but with this…well, she had to do what she had to do to cope.

The walk to Little John’s was fairly quiet, both with the world on their minds and on their shoulders. It wouldn’t take long for them to arrive on the street, and for the moment, Timber let her mind relax. All she needed was to get changed, handle a little business, and then–

Timber hadn’t processed the fact that the sound she’d heard was a gunshot until she’d felt the searing pain in her arm. The bullet had only grazed her flesh, but the ones following after intended further harm and worse damage.

“Fuck!” She grabbed Reds’ arm and jerked him back behind a cart. She struggled to pull out her own gun.

“I thought you would...” Reds said with a fake tremble on his lips.

Reds kept a steady flow of cigarettes to his lips on the walk to Little John’s. He was worried about his family. The safe house would be the best place for them, but that would involve pulling the little ones out of school. Moira could teach them at home, but they were a rambunctious bunch. Little Clara especially. It wouldn’t surprise him if Clara grew up to be just like “Aunt Timber.”

Before he could speak, Reds ducking behind a cart. He didn’t even realize that Timber had been shot. “Where the fuck did these fuckers come from?” He screamed as he took his gun out and shot blindly into the alley.”

blueknivesandyounglives

romeofoley:

Romeo nodded his head slowly. This woman could handle herself, and for that he was grateful, but it wasn’t as though it was one less thing to worry about. She was family. More than family, but he didn’t want to think about that. It was easy to replace those feelings with work. Priorities were simple. These feelings he had were not.

There was no such thing as resting in her flat. Perhaps some tension relief, which he needed. But having her by his side offered some peace. Sometimes he would lay beside her, thinking of what life would be like if he wasn’t in this business. Maybe he’d live in a secluded area by the beach where he didn’t have to watch his back. Maybe he could go fishing. He’s never been fishing before. In all of his scenarios, Timber and Reds were at his side. However, it was Timber whom he would take his morning coffee with and discuss the news. He’d skip over the obituaries.

“I’ll be over later tonight.” He said before going back to his messed up desk.

However many years they’d known one another, Timber still had a difficult time reading Romeo. That was by design, she figured–if he wanted her to, she would. Problem was, he never wanted her to. Didn’t mean she didn’t still catch a peak now and again. Probably irritated the shit out of him. With luck, she would continue to do so, and likely longer than he’d like.

She watched him return to business as usual–as well as he could with what he’d done to the place. Assured that they would both be fine, she stepped back. “C’mon, there’s work to do.” She grabbed at Red’s shoulder and tugged. “I gotta grab Little John and you gotta scoot home to the family.”

Reds gave Romeo a firm nod. “I’ll make sure that Moira makes some extra food for you both.” He wasn’t going to stay with them to dinner. A quick delivery before heading back to his house. Moira would surely want to come along to check up on Romeo and Timber, but Moira would start tidying up Romeo’s place, and taking Timber aside to ask her how she’s doing and tell her about all of the kids and how they miss her while begging her to stop by.

Reds knew that they needed alone time.

“I’ll walk you to Little John’s.” He said putting his cap on. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

romeofoley:

sweetjillianryan:

He wasn’t merely being placating–Romeo didn’t have the time for that, nor did he care about something so silly. If it wasn’t the truth, he didn’t say it. That didn’t mean Timber had to like it. Still in her temper, she refused to face him just yet. She needed to keep herself from throwing whatever shard she could find at him.

Ultimately, Timber finally took a few deep breaths, and glanced back to him. “You’re the boss.” She finally managed, though it was practically through gritted teeth. “I’ll strap on the pair of tits too, shall I?”

Another beat, then, “Mis has the right stuff to wear. I’ll borrow hers. At least she can tie it properly.”

“The tits you have are just fine.” Romeo said as he tapped some ash into his ashtray. He stood up and put on his jacket, shrugging it over his shoulders. He stood in front of Timber and looked down at her. There may have been a flicker of admiration in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to, Timber.” It was the safest for her. Their allies wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her, not if Little John went with her and there was no way in hell that Little John wasn’t going with her. “I’ll keep you informed on any news from the Professor and Cobb.”

She wanted to be irritated with him, even lifting her chin as if ready for the fight. It was difficult to keep it up when he looked at her like that. Timber had been exposed to him long enough to see the almost imperceptible shifts in his expression, and when he looked at her this way…

The sigh escaped through her nose, and she finally nodded. She couldn’t have it both ways. Not always.

“You’d better.” She finally replied, more quietly than she had before. “I want a piece of him when you find the fucker.” She glanced toward Reds, then behind her, before meeting his gaze again. “You’d better be careful, too. I’m serious. Be careful, or I’ll beat you up.”

Romeo gave a nod. He didn’t put it pass her to try and swing at him. In fact, the thought of it almost made him chuckle. There were times where he would think back at conversations with Timber and he would laugh. Although this was in the privacy of his own home. However, there was nothing he could say to appease her. He could not promise he would be careful. Sometimes he had to be exposed to learn more about rival gangs.

“Moira took the kids to the country for a while.” Reds reported back. “And I’d like to accompany Timber and Little John. Three heads are better than--”

“No body was discovered.” The man said, not giving a chance for any one to question him. “Nothing from any morgues or hospitals. There was talk about loud noises and gunshots near the bakery. I did find one of Cobb’s rolled cigarettes. He’s not dead yet. Hurt, yes, but there wasn’t enough blood at the scene.” The Professor said, setting a cigarette with a chewed up end. Cobb always chewed the end of his hand rolled cigarettes.

redsoconnor:

“He’s in, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in right now.” Reds said. He leaned back in his seat and looked at his shirt and back up at Timber. “When did you care about what I wear? I’m not lookin’ to impress you! Just my wife and Edith.” He grinned lazily at Edith before glancing at Timber. “Though I think my wife would like it better on the floor, if you know what I mean.”

There was a slight sigh as he glanced at his pocket watch to check out the time. “He’s got an appointment in about two hours and he’s tryin’ to cross his t’s and dot his i’s. You know how he gets. Gotta have a plan B…C…all the way to Z and then some.”

“Boy, nobody wants to hear about your wife’s poor taste in men.” Timber replied immediately, rolling her eyes, though her lip quirked affectionately. While Moira’s taste was questionable, Timber couldn’t think of another couple that seemed to match so perfectly as she and Reds did. They were a unit, and if she had been the romantic sort, she might’ve envied them for it.

Glancing toward the office doors, she pursed her lips, mentally weighing her options. Just how much of Romeo’s wrath did she want to risk incurring? While it likely wouldn’t be as severe as if one of the soldiers had burst in on him, his temper was something to be wary of and rivaled her own.

Pouring herself a cup, her other hand dug into her pocket for her cigarettes. “I’ve never been much for good ideas.” She decided, extending the pack to him. “You know where to bury me if I don’t make it out.”

Another crash came from the office and the obvious sound of glass shattering. A booming “GOD DAMMIT,” echoed throughout the room, almost loud enough to make it seem that Romeo was in the same room as his three employees. Reds jumped just a bit at the sound but glanced over at Timber.

“You want roses or tulips on your grave?” Reds asked as he directed his attention back to the office door. “Last time I saw him like this, Pugsly was killed. I’d honestly wait for him to come to us, or else I won’t be around to put flowers on your grave.” He got a bad feeling about this outburst. He just hoped neither him nor Timber were going to be at the other end of it.

@redsoconnor

“Is he in?” She asked, all but sweeping into the room toward Romeo’s office without much pause. Maybe she already knew he was there–maybe she didn’t care, and planned to wait.

Glancing back to Reds, she arched a brow. “That’s a terrible color on you, buddy. Did the missus pick that out?”

“I picked it out, thank ye.” Edith replied, sharp but not unkind. She brought up the tray of tea balanced on her hip, and placed it down on the desk. “I think he looks handsome in it, an’ I’ll wager so does the missus.”

“That explains it–you picked it out.” Timber couldn’t help but smirked. They snapped and snarked at one another, but the bond she and Edith shared was special. It was as though Edith knew immediately how Timber chose her friends, and acted accordingly.

“He’s in, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in right now.” Reds said. He leaned back in his seat and looked at his shirt and back up at Timber. “When did you care about what I wear? I’m not lookin’ to impress you! Just my wife and Edith.” He grinned lazily at Edith before glancing at Timber. “Though I think my wife would like it better on the floor, if you know what I mean.”

There was a slight sigh as he glanced at his pocket watch to check out the time. “He’s got an appointment in about two hours and he’s tryin’ to cross his t’s and dot his i’s. You know how he gets. Gotta have a plan B...C...all the way to Z and then some.”

There wasn’t much that was constant in Rat’s life of late. Well, that wasn’t true; everything felt like routine…and he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, when the universe handed you something on a silver platter, it wasn’t likely to let you keep it for long. Nothing was gained easily.

It was why he wasn’t entirely shocked when the first fist collided with his face, mashing the cigarette he’d just put to his lips and knocking him on his ass.

No, he didn’t remember these men–maybe they were friends of the last guy that had stirred up trouble with him? All Rat knew was that he was tired. Tired of not being able to fight back. So, he tried.

“You didn’t read the whole thing, did you? Look, it sounds scary, but the Blue Knife Gang is family. We look out for each other. Sometimes that means doing jobs that aren’t normally in our job description. The benefits outweigh the cons, brother. No matter what happens, you and your family will be taken care of. Nobody will mess with them.” Reds replied seriously. “Which reminds me, we’re gonna need a list of kin. They don’t have to be blood related or anything, but we gotta know our extended family.” Reds didn’t mention that it wasn’t only for protection, but to let the know if Rat did die in the ring or otherwise that they knew who to tell.

“We’ll go through more tomorrow, yeah? You remember how to get to the laundry, right?”

“Mate, does it look like I read the whole thing?” Rat gestured to his swollen eye. “Lucky I see at all, let alone read the fine print, eh?” Of course, that wasn’t an excuse that would hold any water, especially with his friends.

He gave a small nod, not yet wanting to even try to think of anyone he’d want the gang to know of. Who knew what they would actually do to them? It all sounded great…a perfect sales pitch from Reds, but who was to say what would actually happen the following day, or the days even after?

What if they got a hold of Biddy?

“I remember.” He finally replied, heaving a tired sigh. “S’pose I should give notice at the docks, eh?”

“You work at the docks? That could work in our favor. Are you in good standing with your boss or does he want an accident to happen to ya?” Reds asked. “Give your notice, but make sure you’re on his good side if you can.”

There wasn’t much that was constant in Rat’s life of late. Well, that wasn’t true; everything felt like routine...and he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, when the universe handed you something on a silver platter, it wasn’t likely to let you keep it for long. Nothing was gained easily.

It was why he wasn’t entirely shocked when the first fist collided with his face, mashing the cigarette he’d just put to his lips and knocking him on his ass.

No, he didn’t remember these men--maybe they were friends of the last guy that had stirred up trouble with him? All Rat knew was that he was tired. Tired of not being able to fight back. So, he tried.

“You didn’t read the whole thing, did you? Look, it sounds scary, but the Blue Knife Gang is family. We look out for each other. Sometimes that means doing jobs that aren’t normally in our job description. The benefits outweigh the cons, brother. No matter what happens, you and your family will be taken care of. Nobody will mess with them.” Reds replied seriously. “Which reminds me, we’re gonna need a list of kin. They don’t have to be blood related or anything, but we gotta know our extended family.” Reds didn’t mention that it wasn’t only for protection, but to let the know if Rat did die in the ring or otherwise that they knew who to tell.

“We’ll go through more tomorrow, yeah? You remember how to get to the laundry, right?”

redsoconnor:

“I think I’ve done pretty well. I’m not livin’ in the lap of luxury, but I have a better life here than I had in Ireland.” He turned the corner. “Don’t wanna go down that street in your state. That’s the Forty Thieves gang territory. At least, they’re trying to build up their numbers. They aren’t dangerous, and I don’t think they’re going to be. Just a bunch of kids thinkin’ they’re tough.”

He grinned. “The best thing that ever happened to me. What about you? Life get any better?”

“Instead of forty of ‘em, there’s probably about twelve, eh?” Rat attempted to joke, the idea laughable–but then again, he’d just seen what those kids could grow up to be. Nobody was laughing at that.

Rat considered the question, thinking back on what life had been like in Bolton and the Jones Zoo, as his mum liked to called it. It had been easier there; growing up in a place always makes it easier, but it hadn’t been what he needed. He’d needed to go out, explore, grow with his friends, and if his mum had anything to say about it, he’d settle down, too.

That thought felt like another sucker punch to his stomach. If he thought about it too much, it would only put him in a blacker mood than he’d started out with, and Reds–someone who likely could be a friend–didn’t need to hear his woes. It would make a better song than a story, at any rate.

“It has it’s ups and downs.” He finally replied noncommittally. “I think you stole all the luck, mate. Next bit’s mine, eh? Pinky swear.”

“More like 25.” Reds said with a small shrug. They didn’t have many weapons at their disposal, but they did have some rowdy angry members. It was their anger that made them make mistakes and become reckless. On top of their disorganization, they had no distinct leader. They had a man who said he was in charge, but he was more like a puppet to a few of the boys. “Dangerous if you can’t fight back.”

He gave a small shrug. “It’s not all the luck of the Irish. I got more than my share of woes. Still do.” He cleared his throat. Reds did have an anger issue, but not as bad as Romeo. His wife had to sew him up many times and he would go a long time without seeing his children if he was banged up a lot or out of town collecting contacts. He never wanted to scare his children. “You should know that this job isn’t sunshine and roses. Once you’re in, you’re in.” He said seriously. “The only way you’re leaving is in a body bag.”

There wasn’t much that was constant in Rat’s life of late. Well, that wasn’t true; everything felt like routine...and he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, when the universe handed you something on a silver platter, it wasn’t likely to let you keep it for long. Nothing was gained easily.

It was why he wasn’t entirely shocked when the first fist collided with his face, mashing the cigarette he’d just put to his lips and knocking him on his ass.

No, he didn’t remember these men--maybe they were friends of the last guy that had stirred up trouble with him? All Rat knew was that he was tired. Tired of not being able to fight back. So, he tried.

“I think I’ve done pretty well. I’m not livin’ in the lap of luxury, but I have a better life here than I had in Ireland.” He turned the corner. “Don’t wanna go down that street in your state. That’s the Forty Thieves gang territory. At least, they’re trying to build up their numbers. They aren’t dangerous, and I don’t think they’re going to be. Just a bunch of kids thinkin’ they’re tough.”

He grinned. “The best thing that ever happened to me. What about you? Life get any better?”

Reds stood up along with Romeo but didn’t say a thing. “So, I take it you’ll need an escort home or perhaps you’d be willing to stay here. You’re always welcome to get mended up at my house. My wife has seen her fair share of injuries. Unfortunately I can’t guarantee the kids won’t jump on you. They should be asleep though.” Reds fixed his vest and glanced at his pocket watch. “It’s your choice, mate!”

“Ah, right, ya have kids!” It wasn’t that Rat had truly forgotten; Reds had mentioned his family as a selling point. It appeared that family was a common theme among this…group, whoever they were. He wondered idly if Reds’ family knew what he did? Hell, he didn’t know what Reds did, but he got the gist.

“I love kids–I have a little sister back in England, yeah? She had me niece before I came over, and I guess a few more boys after.” He glanced at his bandaged hands, as if he suddenly remembered that he’d been in a scrap. “…maybe after I don’t look like the dead, yeah? Best be off home. Me mates would worry.”

“I’ve got two! A boy and a girl. Hellions, me wife calls them, but I like to say that they’re just expressing themselves.” He said as he opened the door for him. “It’s best you try walking on your own, yeah? Get the muscles used to workin’ and healin’. A hot bath oughta help as well. You’re gonna need it for tomorrow.” He took out a cigarette and brought it to his lips. He took a deep inhale before exhaling smoke rings slowly.

“England? Why did you come here? Opportunity? To get mistaken for an Irish lad when clearly…” He finished his sentence with a laugh.

“Aye, what the hell is that?” Rat agreed, his voice hitching an octave in his happiness that someone apparently understood. “Just because we sound a little alike don’t mean that we’re the same. I’m from fuckin’ Bolton.” He frowned a little to himself–but really, he was pouting.

He kicked at a pebble in the street, and almost immediately regretted it as something pulled in his leg. Still, he did his best on his own, not wanting to appear weak in front of someone who was…clearly not in the same field as he was. “Opportunity.” He nodded. “Came with me lads to see what America had to offer. Everyone talks about New York, whether they love it or hate it. We came to play our music, yeah? And we do, sometimes. Not as much these days…”

He sniffed to bring himself back to the present. “What about you, then? Come with the wife, or for her?”

“It’s these goddamn Americans. They can’t tell a Irish lad from an English lad or a Scottish lad from a French lad.” He shook his head before steadying Rat. “Whoa there, Rat. We need you in tip top shape, especially for trainin’.” He kept his arm around him until he was able to balance himself.

“It’s like the news got all mangled by the time it went overseas. Land of opportunity my ass. Not hirin’ Irish or blacks for anythin’, no matter how hard we work.” He growled. It was the first time since he met Rat that he showed a side of him that wasn’t as pleasant and welcoming. His green eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. “Fuckin’ idiots.”

He cleared his throat at the thought of his wife. She was always able to calm him down. “I met me wife on the ship to America. It was love at first sight, it was. I came over with Romeo. We were childhood mates when we were growin’ up.” He didn’t say why. It wasn’t his story to tell. “Couldn’t let him go to America by himself.”

Reds stood up along with Romeo but didn’t say a thing. “So, I take it you’ll need an escort home or perhaps you’d be willing to stay here. You’re always welcome to get mended up at my house. My wife has seen her fair share of injuries. Unfortunately I can’t guarantee the kids won’t jump on you. They should be asleep though.” Reds fixed his vest and glanced at his pocket watch. “It’s your choice, mate!”

“Ah, right, ya have kids!” It wasn’t that Rat had truly forgotten; Reds had mentioned his family as a selling point. It appeared that family was a common theme among this…group, whoever they were. He wondered idly if Reds’ family knew what he did? Hell, he didn’t know what Reds did, but he got the gist.

“I love kids–I have a little sister back in England, yeah? She had me niece before I came over, and I guess a few more boys after.” He glanced at his bandaged hands, as if he suddenly remembered that he’d been in a scrap. “…maybe after I don’t look like the dead, yeah? Best be off home. Me mates would worry.”

“I’ve got two! A boy and a girl. Hellions, me wife calls them, but I like to say that they’re just expressing themselves.” He said as he opened the door for him. “It’s best you try walking on your own, yeah? Get the muscles used to workin’ and healin’. A hot bath oughta help as well. You’re gonna need it for tomorrow.” He took out a cigarette and brought it to his lips. He took a deep inhale before exhaling smoke rings slowly.

“England? Why did you come here? Opportunity? To get mistaken for an Irish lad when clearly...” He finished his sentence with a laugh.

Reds stood up along with Romeo but didn’t say a thing. “So, I take it you’ll need an escort home or perhaps you’d be willing to stay here. You’re always welcome to get mended up at my house. My wife has seen her fair share of injuries. Unfortunately I can’t guarantee the kids won’t jump on you. They should be asleep though.” Reds fixed his vest and glanced at his pocket watch. “It’s your choice, mate!”

Romeo's Right Hand Man @redsoconnor - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag