Fired at the ones who run

Tyler Spade. 20. Black Spade. Hit man. Human cipher. Bulletproof.

[brooke-lawson]

So,

[brooke-lawson]

Emphasizing that I would enjoy sleeping with someone as good looking as you is no way near underrating myself. I’m sure we’d have a great time together, if only you’d let it happen but persuasion is not a game that I play. So let’s just look for my wallet, shall we?

[tylerofspades-blog]

Oh, that was the part I graciously accepted as a compliment. I meant the part about if I'd be stooping low enough to do that. But all right, we'll play Where's Waldo with the wallet. Is that what you were wearing when you lost it? Do you remember where you last used it?

[brooke-lawson]

So,

[brooke-lawson]

Actually, I don’t remember anything about last night but I do know you that you’re someone I’d go home with— in a heart beat. Although, I doubt you’d stoop so low.

[tylerofspades-blog]

Oh, self-deprecation. Nothing quite as sexy as a beautiful girl underrating herself.

[brooke-lawson]

So,

funny story. I think the jackass I spent the night with stole my fucking wallet.

[tylerofspades-blog]

Now, I know for a fact that you don't mean me.

[maliadavenport]

Some people are so handsy.

[tylerofspades-blog]

Oh, the utter nerve of them.

[aceregbo]

Now, who's going to take me on a game of pool?

[tylerofspades-blog]

I didn't know you played. The only billiards skills of yours that anyone seems to talk about is how you can break a cue over your knee.

[dee-fujioka-deactivated20140517]

"Oh, is that for me?"

[tylerofspades-blog]

It wasn't until two seconds ago, but since you asked so nicely...

[youralicekingsley]

[TEXT] If you weren't my sister, I'd suggest Jessica Rabbit. Alas, leggy blonde it will have to be.

[TEXT] The cruel realities of life. Is anyone else we know going?

[melissa-cortez]

"Well, if you’re so confident about it. How come smiles never work on me, hmm?”

[tylerofspades-blog]

Must be all the rumours about that extremely violent man of yours, Mrs. Cortez.

[edward-spade]

Betrayal | Tyler & Edward

[edward-spade]

A bitter taste filled his mouth, disdain lacing through each of his words. “You’ll be stepping down, laying low… for a while. I can’t have your,” he paused again, careful with his choice of wording, “…incompetence risking the safety of the Black Spades. The police will be keeping their eye on you for the next while and if you continue to work here, all the Black Spades will be watched.” The explanation wasn’t entirely needed—Tyler was competent enough to understand why his affiliation had become a danger. No, Edward’s intent was to remind his son that the outcome of his actions affected more than just the two of them. The Black Spades, the group crucial to Edward for a chance at winning this war, could easily by targeted by authorities thanks to Tyler’s carelessness. And while they all knew the risk of the job when they signed up, Edward would not exploit their trust in him by letting Tyler off easy.

"I’m sure you’re aware of how grim circumstances have been since your cousin died. We need every man on our side functioning and capable. By getting yourself caught, you have not only inhibited our most valuable hit man—you’ve put us all at risk. Your actions have put us in a place we can’t afford to be in, especially right now.” His paused his speech, if only to calm to severity at which his tone had reached. Anger flared through him like acid burning through his veins, settling beneath his skin. “If you were anyone else, Tyler…” He trailed off with a shake of his head. That was a dangerous thought didn’t need finishing, anyone with half a mind would know the threat in it. If Tyler were anyone else, he would have been killed for being an unnecessary liability.

"Give the files for your upcoming jobs to James. He’ll handle them." Another blow to his son’s hard-wrought ego, he knew, but that again was the intent. As unpleasant thirty-six hours in jail must have been, that was only the beginning of his consequences. As far as Edward was concerned, Tyler had set off a domino chain the moment he had become careless with the hit. "I suggest during your unemployment, you consider how serious your loyalty to the Black Spades is." Edward looked up at Tyler with expectance, this time with a calmness that spoke volumes to his seriousness. "If I can’t depend on you, your use to Black Spades—no matter how skilled you are—means nothing. Do you understand?"

[tylerofspades-blog]

All complacency left Tyler with a sickening lurch. He was on his feet, hands curled into fists, eyes flared wide. The reaction, though not much, was a bigger crack in his composure than he wanted to show. I haven't failed before, I haven't now. The mark was dead, the job was done. But it was the mention of Caroline that slid under his skin, forcing him to calm down and think.

One rule Tyler followed was that his family was off-limits, in a way that not even Claire (no, not even Jules) was. After all, nearly two decades of idolising the man and taking his every word to heart had left Edward exposed and defenceless to his son. It would be unfair to exploit that now. He didn't hesitate.

"How incredibly convenient." His demeanour had changed in an instant, his voice a drawl. "You think I'm a liability that needs to be shunted out of public eye, around the same time that you're grooming your successor." It was irrelevant that he'd always been content to let James take up their father's mantle; Edward had called him the Black Spades' most valuable hit man, he was going to learn exactly why that was true. "By all means, give James the boost to his ego. Pat him on the back, make him feel like a big man who's stepping up to the plate in the hour of his family's need. Take from one son just to validate another." Tyler pretended to inspect the paperweight on the table, rearranging the pens in a fastidious line, as if tidying was more important than the point he was making. "James really needs this, after all. He's alive only because Caroline isn't. Caroline died because she was in between him and the Red Clubs. Ergo, if he had done the impossible — much like you're expecting me to — he would have foreseen that one jumpy twitch on his part would cause her to be collateral damage instead of him dying. Isn't that an interesting thought, the knowledge that dear, industrious, utterly serious James is the reason we all have targets painted on our backs? I merely did something London's finest only expects us to do, it's run-of-the-mill at this point. But dear, dear Jamie, his mistake left a bloodbath and you've rewarded him for it."

Tyler's smile only grew as he met his father's blue eyes, so similar to his own. That was where the resemblance died. "But you're incredibly good at forgiving those closest to you, aren't you? It's the best-kept secret in Wonderland. You've got an heir who started a war. You've got a right-hand man whose temper has caused more fights than you can clean up. And now, you've got a son who was poisoned and still managed to keep his trap shut with a roomful of peelers breathing rancidly down his neck, but that's where you choose to draw the line. Is it because I'm too low down the hierarchy of people for you, Dad? Is that why you're making an example of me, instead of people who've fucked up worse? It's not a very good example, if I may say so. Edward Spade, they're all saying, never seen him press a muzzle to a man's head and pull the trigger himself. Edward Spade, holds his own children up to different standards from his underlings. If only they knew how selective Edward Spade is even with the people in his tiny, favoured circle. How he only goes after the transgressions that he thinks are easy to punish, while he remains utterly oblivious to deeper damage that's being wrought all around him. Funny how that goes, right, Dad?"

[melissa-cortez]

"That’s incredible, really. So they just let you walk out like that? Nothing said?"

[tylerofspades-blog]

All I had to do was smile. It’s a proven ticket to success.

[edward-spade]

Betrayal | Tyler & Edward

36 hours. 

36 hours was the maximum amount of time they could hold him with arrest. 36 hours was the estimated length of Tyler’s detainment, though it could easily be extended if they found any reasonable evidence to arrest him with. 36 hours was only a few hours shy of how long Edward had been awake, relentlessly searching for that evidence, and in bountiful amounts it came up. Each time he found something new, he’d begin burying it, digging a grave so deep there was no chance it would ever be found. Not within 36 hours, not ever. Perhaps this was Edward’s way of compensating for allowing his son to be placed in a holding cell. It had happened once, one time too many, and Edward would never let it happen again.

A tumbler half full with whiskey was within arm’s reach, and between agitated glances to the grandfather clock standing proud in the corner of his office room, Edward would allow himself a sip. Which happened to be quite frequent, as the ticking clock counted down the announcement of Tyler’s freedom was the only offer of solace to found. Everything felt remarkably heavy, from the weight of the glass in his left hand, to the jacket draped over his shoulders. The desire for sleep was numbing him of his ability to think, to comprehend. He was a nocturnal man, undoubtedly, used to working in the cover of a dark night. He’d stayed awake for longer periods of time, too swaddled by work to rest. Yet, this time, the exhaustion Edward could feel wasn’t just from tire. Their was emotional weakening, picking and prodding at the man. It was deteriorating him, putting him a place he could no longer function in. And Edward was adamant about ridding himself of this emotional turmoil before he, or Tyler, rested.

A knock on the door caught Edward’s attention. He straightened his posture in his chair, placing the glass on his desk. “Come in,” he commanded, the dark tone in his voice already setting the mood for the conversation to occur. The door creaked open and Tyler appeared in the frame. Edward stayed silent, lifting his chin as his eyes narrowed in on his son. His face was void of emotion, completely blank to the point where it was unnerving. When he spoke, an icy chill breached the distance between the two, the accusation cutting through without remorse. “How did you allow this to happen?”

[tylerofspades-blog]

Of the many instinctual responses that slammed into Tyler to see the inside of Edward Spade's study (as opposed to a court house), none of them was an overjoyed, "Dad!" It was more along the lines of I need a razor, or maybe a change of clothes instead, and definitely a little bit of, I need to get laid. Every last trace of the drug from the little blue bottle had left his system, and 'detoxing' under the beady eye of London's finest hadn't been fun. Thank god he'd not absorbed too much of that insidious drug, or else he wouldn't even have been aware of it while it was working. Discovering that he'd absorbed it, in the first place, in jail was no laugh either.

What had been even less pleasant had been the memory of his last face-to-face conversation with his father. The combination of not realising he'd been poisoned, coming off as a needy six-year-old with self-esteem issues, and mouthing off about murder to a policeman, left a bad taste in his mouth. It made him feel two inches tall. Tyler was used to being a giant in a dollhouse, and this was new. This was uncomfortable.

He dropped lazily into a chair on the authority-less side of his father's desk. He didn't want to answer the question. (The look in his father's eyes was enough.) The inside of his wrist had stopped stinging by now, and he felt safe enough to unclasp his metallic Tag Heuer watch and pass it across for his father's inspection. There was a small but noticeable scratch in the metal, where something sharp had slid down the strap and cut into Tyler's wrist.

"The mark broke a vase," he said by way of explanation. He kept his tone unconcerned and closed-off, his face expressionless. "She used it to attack the 'burglar' in her house and didn't drop it until I found her. As it turns out, even quality criminals can't be bought for a decent price, everyone wants to impress the boss, get a promotion. This guy thought it would be prudent to stick a hypodermic needle into the mark himself. Imagine, if you will, a desperate woman, pumped full of the useful stuff that comes from a little blue bottle. She's running around, clutching a piece of glass in one hand, cutting herself a mess in the process. She runs into me and lashes out with her makeshift shiv or whatever, gets me in the hand before I disarm her, and while I do my job, I get her blood over me. Frankly, I'm amazed I haven't contracted hepatitis from the episode. But it's done, she's dead, and Bluto out there can only keep dreaming of that promotion."

[tylerofspades-blog]

Pharmaceutical name: Little blue bottle with a 'Drink me' sign.

Most used for: Inducing Stockholm Syndrome instantaneously.

Chemical composition: XXXtradesecretXXX.

Instructions for use:

Step 01. Know your mark. Hannah Farleigh, 29, forensic technician at the morgue. Lives alone, has eight locks on her front door, very fond of Breaking Bad.

Step 02. Tailor your plan to take advantage of the weak spots in the mark's defences. In this case, her guard is especially low when she watches television at full volume.

Step 03. Gather all the necessary ingredients for the perfect criminal brew. One car that will look innocuous in her neighbourhood. One street thug who owes the family a debt. Black ski mask, semi-automatic pistol, motorcycle boots, whatever else is the standard garb of a burglar. One little blue bottle.

Step 04. Undertake all necessary preparations. Firstly, ensure there is radio contact with said thug at all times. Secondly, park outside the fast food dump a street away from the mark's residence. Stay inside the dump while waiting for thug to execute his part of the plan. Thirdly, have said thug, dressed as the garden-variety home invader, break into the mark's house. Ensure this results in her having the opportunity to make a heroic struggle for her life and run out the broken front door.

Step 05. Position yourself accordingly. When the mark runs for the nearest safe haven, intercept her. Play the Good Samaritan. Be concerned, be helpful, be sure to convince her you're capable in a crisis.

Step 06. Inject the mark with the contents of the little blue bottle.

Step 07. Wait for the effects to take hold and offer to drive her to the nearest police station.

Step 08. Finish the job.

Warning: This compound is very easily absorbable and very strong. Its mind-altering properties include rendering the patient extremely susceptible to any suggestion whatsoever. It should be administered under controlled conditions, where the doctor is the only one making the necessary suggestions to the patient. Reported cases of lab interns muttering, "Oh, blow me," in exasperation have not ended well.

[tylerofspades-blog]

You Like Checkers, I Like Chess || Lilah and Tyler

[tigerxheart]

Despite being much shorter than him, even in her heels, Lilah kept her chin held high as she rose to her full height. She was not going to be frightened or intimidated by a man, not again. She couldn’t do that to herself again. She didn’t mind if it ended up getting her killed or if people thought she was too full of pride to submit. She refused to let anyone make her feel like a victim again, she didn’t think she would be able to survive it this time. 

She snorted at his words. “You think the worst this will do is annoy her? No, you and me having a one time thing would annoy her. This? If this ends up getting out, it will end with my head on a god damn platter. I could die because of it, so don’t think that I don’t know exactly how dangerous this is.” Running her fingers through her hair, Lilah rocked back on her heels and let out a long sigh. “No one’s going to fucking find out as long as you keep your god damn mouth shut. We’ve done well enough to keep it hushed in the last seven years, that isn’t going to change any time soon.”

Alice was one person she certainly didn’t have to worry about keeping their secret, she was her best friend and James’ sister after all. Tyler, though? She couldn’t be sure what he would do, whether he would use it to convince James or whether he would take matters into his own hands. “And don’t think that you can intimidate me. You’re not the only murderer in this room.”

[tylerofspades-blog]

Seven years. James. His big brother. How many times had he said Mother Jamie, confident that despite the smothering overprotectiveness, James was clever, resourceful, and capable of putting family first. Of having some sense of preservation, not just of his own neck but of other people's. It was strange to begin to see that his brother, too, had feet of clay.

"Your confidence is hilarious, Lilah," he said, even though he had never felt further from laughing. She had been his friend first, before any of this happened. She was still his friend. But his family now came first. "You can call me the liability of your secret sex life, but I wouldn't have known if you hadn't told me. It's either a miracle no one found out in seven years or you're surrounded by really fucking stupid people." He took a step back, certain she'd become aware enough of her surroundings to not get them both exposed.

"You're not good for him." His tone sounded blank to his ears, but the words were heavy in his mouth. Was James unhappy with Bridget? Was that why he was with Lilah? None of it changed anything. "I don't care if you're putting your neck on the line to warm his bed - " But he did care and it shouldn't matter. "Bully for you, the brave, independent hooker with a heart of gold going for what you want in a harsh, cold world. You're making things worse for him with this. If you don't give a damn about him, then let this go. And if, God forbid, you care about James, then don't make this about you. Don't be half so selfish."

He sank back against the writing desk, needing something to lean on, a moment to recoup. With her little jab about murderers, he lifted his head and there was no trace of friendliness or her friend in the look he gave her. He smiled. "Call yourself what you like. The difference is, Lilah, you're not a murderer like me."

[tylerofspades-blog]

You Like Checkers, I Like Chess || Lilah and Tyler

[tigerxheart]

Lilah jumped at the slamming of the door and when she looked into his eyes, the darkness that she saw there both surprised her and slightly frightened her. In all the years that she had been there, she had never seen him so angry, especially not at her.

"Oh, grow up, Tyler. Look at the world we live in, everyone’s having affairs. It wouldn’t surprise me if Marcus or Edward had mistresses in the past. They are mob bosses, they can take whatever they want." Married men was something she was very familiar with considering most of her clients were married. The very thought of marriage and relationships were a joke to her considering that every single one she knew about ended in flames. Anger flared up in her when he questioned her emotions and she acted out, shoving his chest before she yelled. "You don’t know anything about us, absolutely nothing! So don’t you dare sit there and condescend me when you have absolutely no idea." She glared at him, anger clouding her judgement. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm herself before they woke the entire place up. "Always." She opened her eyes slowly to look at him. "We just always…have."

[tylerofspades-blog]

"Don't you dare equate what you're doing to anything my father's done." The very thought of Edward Spade's infidelity was so ludicrous it would have been an insult to his parents to address it. "You're right, he is a mob boss, and that's what my brother will be some day. And they don't get to where they are by doing, let alone diddling, whatever they want." 

Tyler acted on blind instinct, lunging for her when she yelled. His hand would have gone over her mouth to silence her if she hadn't cottoned on to it first herself. He closed the space between them in his fury, towering over her like a malevolent shadow. He could slam all the doors he liked but the sound of a woman's voice would ring more alarm bells.

"You're the one behaving like a child." His breath evened out, coming out slower and harsher from him. He had no illusions about how convenient James's engagement was, and he trusted its convenience was for a very good reason. "You want to see James succeed, Lilah? Do you care about anything more than whatever paltry gratification you get from sleeping together? Do you want to tell me that what the two of you have is special and means something? Then drop this. It's bad for him, it's bad for you. The worst it'll do to you is annoy my mother. What it'll do to him, I hope we never find out."

[nox-armada]

"Thank you for the insight on what would be your future life. Should I expect grandchildren somewhere in there or is no one worthy of barring your children either? Flowers, a card and one visit then maybe we can make a deal."

"As I would hope, you don’t happen to come from a family of fools. My oh my, Yoda he says. Your father’s lifestyle isn’t one everyone can partake in let alone live up to, but you, I remember when you where just a toddler. Took you a minute to learn how to walk but with your ability to crawl any chance you where given you where right behind your father. So interested in what went on in his study. Adorable you where, then you grew up not as cute as you use to be but still a looker." There she was reminiscing again, as if she hadn’t seen her son enough. "Never that, granted it comes with much responsibility. The White Diamond was given to me on purpose. Oh you not worry, when I need you you’re always there for now your little old mother is fine."

[tylerofspades-blog]

Tyler smiled straight at his mother and lied unblushingly through his teeth. "The grandchildren aren't likely, I'm afraid. On the other hand, we have James content to be the family's stud horse with a very nice fiancée, so all hope's not lost. I'll concede on the card. Those require the minimum fuss and Allison's getting good at forging my signature, so I can browbeat her into writing it for me."

No, he though with cool pride, not many people can live up to my father's reputation, but his son is not going to remain in his shadow. "I'm glad you think I no longer look baby-cute," he said, mouth turning down in mock-hurt. "I'd have a hard time doing my job that way. But it's good to hear that you're well. Seeing all of our extremely large family around at the dinner table will be heartening. I might even begin forget some of your names if I don't see you enough."

[tylerofspades-blog]

You Like Checkers, I Like Chess || Lilah and Tyler

[tigerxheart]

Lilah paused, only just realising her slip of tongue. Shit. “Son, I meant to say son. It’s five in the morning Ty, you can’t hold me accountable for anything I say right now. There is some severe sleep deprivation here.” She hoped that her lie would be enough to convince her, but considering she knew exactly how clever Tyler truly was, she doubted it. He and Allison were just too clever for their own good. Brushing her hair out of her face and behind her ear, she cleared her throat. “I really do have to go. No rest for the wicked.” Avoiding his eyes, Lilah turned and began making her way to the door.

[tylerofspades-blog]

Tyler was faster (it was a marvel his victims ever thought they ever stood a chance) and the door shut with a slam that would have woken the whole house. His blue eyes were nearly black with controlled fury.

"Funny sort of slip," he said, her silent admission evident in the way she chose to not look at him rather than laugh it off. "Sleep deprivation doesn't make you forget the number of people you fucked under this roof. You and James. He's going to be married, Lilah." His grip tightened around the door knob as he tried to stop thinking about what it meant for his family to have those Irishmen as their enemies. "To a Callaghan. I don't know who's got less in their pretty little head, you or him. I'm not even going to bother to ask if you care about James, because I doubt you care very much if you're willing to bed his brother and ruin his political future in one go."

There are deeper problems. More dangerous ones. "How long?" He nearly spit out the words.

[eighthwondcr]

Oh my go -

[eighthwondcr]

“Really?" She arched an eyebrow, face and syllables shaped with skepticism. "Yeah, probably. And you’ve almost definitely seen the inside of a body more than me, so I guess we’re even."

[tylerofspades-blog]

I'm sure you didn't mean to call me Hannibal Lecter. We all know how those films end.