Good Business 4/24 - 3am: Dirty
Author's name:
captain_elessar
Claim: XXXX
Fandom: Layer Cake
Prompt: 24, dirty
Word Count: 635
Rating: R
Summary: "There are two of…many very important rules about this "glamorous" business. Know your enemy. More importantly, know your allies."
Table link
Chapter 4 - 3am: Dirty
I had no idea how we had been in that bloody car, but I swear that they could have been driving in circles. In fact, that made sense. Eventually, I got the feeling that they were taking me to a specific place, other than just driving around to provide the illusion of kidnap and scaring the shit out of me. But of course, that didn’t happen until after all the previously mentioned had occurred.
I suddenly felt betrayed. As if I had actually trusted Jimmy and Gene, though I knew that Gene was best mates with Morty - he wouldn’t screw us over, or suffer Morty’s wrath. Morty being the one that spent ten years inside. And Jimmy…he never fucked us over either. That’s another one on the list of guidelines to the underworld, respect and pay your suppler on time, and I always have. I’ve never slipped up with Jimmy, and he’s treated us well.
After all, Jimmy Price is one of the top suppler names in this business, he wouldn’t do anything to get dirt on it. However…he would have done plenty to get where he was. And that made me nervous.
The car slowed down, and came to a stop. I looked up at the two men on either side of me as one of them flung the door open and pulled me out by my jacket, successfully throwing me in the dirt. Wanker. I tried to get up, but it proved to be slower than normal with my hands still behind my back, and the sweaty man - impatient as he was - grabbed my jacket and started to drag me through the dirt to the warehouse (I did mention they were popular meeting places).
I, of course, protested, squirming and making as much noise as I could without speaking. That isn’t to say that I didn’t try to speak, but…the duct-tape. I called him as many derogatory names as I could think of and unfortunately he didn’t hear any of them.
“What’s the damn problem?” the sweaty man finally questioned, looking straight at me.
You, I replied with my eyes, coldly staring at him.
He still held me off of the ground by my jacket, though we were inside now. “Let him go,” a new man spoke, approaching us. With a shrug, the sweaty man let go of my jacket and I hit the ground with a thud.
Ow.
“And untie him,” the new man instructed.
Sweaty man placed his knee in my back as he ripped the duct-tape off of my wrists. “MMMM!!” You asshole!! I yelled at him. But he was even less gentle as he gripped a fist-full of my hair to pull my head back and ripped the duct-tape off of my mouth. I screamed.
“AH! You bloody wanker!”
With a slap to the back of my head, he let me go. Slowly, I stood up, rubbing my wrists, and faced the new man - who stood in front of me, in a sparkling clean, neatly pressed suit, looking every cent of his money, and a half smile pressed across his face. “I have to apologize for this,” the man said, “I am George Kingston, I believe Mr. Price informed you of me?”
“Informed?” I questioned, incredulously, “We had an arranged meet!”
“Yes, well…I am sorry about that, I have this..terrible fear of dealing with too many people, you see…the more people there are, the more likely they are to be dirty,” he looked me over for a moment, “Other than the…physical kind of dirty.”
For a long moment, I stared at him. Then I wondered what they’d do if I was to just walk out. Perhaps nothing, but then again perhaps they’d kill me and bodily harm was a good incentive to stay. That, and the money.
captain_elessar
Claim: XXXX
Fandom: Layer Cake
Prompt: 24, dirty
Word Count: 635
Rating: R
Summary: "There are two of…many very important rules about this "glamorous" business. Know your enemy. More importantly, know your allies."
Table link
Chapter 4 - 3am: Dirty
I had no idea how we had been in that bloody car, but I swear that they could have been driving in circles. In fact, that made sense. Eventually, I got the feeling that they were taking me to a specific place, other than just driving around to provide the illusion of kidnap and scaring the shit out of me. But of course, that didn’t happen until after all the previously mentioned had occurred.
I suddenly felt betrayed. As if I had actually trusted Jimmy and Gene, though I knew that Gene was best mates with Morty - he wouldn’t screw us over, or suffer Morty’s wrath. Morty being the one that spent ten years inside. And Jimmy…he never fucked us over either. That’s another one on the list of guidelines to the underworld, respect and pay your suppler on time, and I always have. I’ve never slipped up with Jimmy, and he’s treated us well.
After all, Jimmy Price is one of the top suppler names in this business, he wouldn’t do anything to get dirt on it. However…he would have done plenty to get where he was. And that made me nervous.
The car slowed down, and came to a stop. I looked up at the two men on either side of me as one of them flung the door open and pulled me out by my jacket, successfully throwing me in the dirt. Wanker. I tried to get up, but it proved to be slower than normal with my hands still behind my back, and the sweaty man - impatient as he was - grabbed my jacket and started to drag me through the dirt to the warehouse (I did mention they were popular meeting places).
I, of course, protested, squirming and making as much noise as I could without speaking. That isn’t to say that I didn’t try to speak, but…the duct-tape. I called him as many derogatory names as I could think of and unfortunately he didn’t hear any of them.
“What’s the damn problem?” the sweaty man finally questioned, looking straight at me.
You, I replied with my eyes, coldly staring at him.
He still held me off of the ground by my jacket, though we were inside now. “Let him go,” a new man spoke, approaching us. With a shrug, the sweaty man let go of my jacket and I hit the ground with a thud.
Ow.
“And untie him,” the new man instructed.
Sweaty man placed his knee in my back as he ripped the duct-tape off of my wrists. “MMMM!!” You asshole!! I yelled at him. But he was even less gentle as he gripped a fist-full of my hair to pull my head back and ripped the duct-tape off of my mouth. I screamed.
“AH! You bloody wanker!”
With a slap to the back of my head, he let me go. Slowly, I stood up, rubbing my wrists, and faced the new man - who stood in front of me, in a sparkling clean, neatly pressed suit, looking every cent of his money, and a half smile pressed across his face. “I have to apologize for this,” the man said, “I am George Kingston, I believe Mr. Price informed you of me?”
“Informed?” I questioned, incredulously, “We had an arranged meet!”
“Yes, well…I am sorry about that, I have this..terrible fear of dealing with too many people, you see…the more people there are, the more likely they are to be dirty,” he looked me over for a moment, “Other than the…physical kind of dirty.”
For a long moment, I stared at him. Then I wondered what they’d do if I was to just walk out. Perhaps nothing, but then again perhaps they’d kill me and bodily harm was a good incentive to stay. That, and the money.