Untitled BDS fic continued, Chapter 3 - a WiP
Wee! Okay, so I promised more Untitled BDS fic, and here it is. Sorry for the short-ness. Next chapter should not suck as much ;)
Untitled BDS, Chapter 3; Part 1 can be found here and Part 2 here
A piece of cardboard hung on the door to Alan’s Drug Store, informing customers that they were open 24 hours, and a little bell chimed when Murphy pushed open the door, breathing in the initial gust of crisp, cool air-conditioning. The bottoms of his boots were sticky and they squeaked amidst the dim hum of the coolers and occasional buzz of the fluorescent lights. No other customers so he felt big and loud with his shoes smacking and sticking to the linoleum.
He was browsing the chip aisle when the bell chimed again, and a tall man in a white button down shirt and dark slacks stood by the door, his large frame blocking it. He glanced at the cashier before sliding his gaze towards Murphy. Eyes black and wide, a little effeminate for his long and angular face, he reminded Murphy of something dangerously beguiling.
Murphy, deciding to keep nothing from turning into something, went back to browsing chips and dip, aware that the man had not yet taken his eyes off him.
“You MacManus?” the voice called out of nowhere, and Murphy, startled, crunched a bag of corn chips in his hands and winced at the too-loud sound.
“Yeah,” he turned, blinking, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Who are you?”
The man’s thin lips strayed from a straight line, corners lifting into a smile that hid secrets. “Tony Romana.”
Oh fuck, an Italian mob boss. The Italian mob boss. Just what he needed.
“Look, man, I just wanted to get a pack of smokes,” Murphy began as he started to turn for the counter, intent on getting cigarettes and getting out of there. At least he had a gun this time, tucked into his waistband, a warm, solid weight that pushed into his back reassuringly.
“No trouble here,” Tony held up his hands, “I just wanted to tell you that I was very upset today with what you boys pulled on my men. I lost four really valuable guys, you see.”
Murphy shrugged, a smirk on his face. “They’re replaceable.”
Tony approached him with measured steps. The cashier was meek and quiet, nose hidden behind a magazine. She took the hint though when Tony jerked his head in the direction of the back room, and she headed that way with hardly a word, leaving the two men alone.
“Your brother…Where is he?”
Murphy hesitated. “Why?”
Tony shrugged large shoulders, “Just curious.” But a knowing look was present behind the inquiring eyes that Murphy wasn’t sure he liked.
“He’s - he’s safe. Sleeping, probably. I don’t understand what - ”
“I know,” Tony pressed his hands together, and the oddly loud sound of joints popping pricked Murphy’s ears. “Do you think it was a wise decision to leave him alone?”
“Why - ” eyes suddenly widening, recognition dawned on Murphy’s face. He resisted the urge to bolt back to the motel and see if Connor was all right. It was all about bluffing, anyway, wasn’t it?
Jaw set firmly, Murphy tightened his hand into a fist, ready to swing, as the other one hovered near his backside just over the gun. “You wouldn’t know where to look for him,” he said and took a step closer.
“You think?” Was Tony just trying to push his buttons? Or was there a real threat against Connor’s life? Murphy wasn’t there…he couldn’t take that risk.
The door to Alan’s clanged shut loudly as Murphy ran out, too quick to see the deviant smile on Tony’s thin lips.
tbc...
Untitled BDS, Chapter 3; Part 1 can be found here and Part 2 here
A piece of cardboard hung on the door to Alan’s Drug Store, informing customers that they were open 24 hours, and a little bell chimed when Murphy pushed open the door, breathing in the initial gust of crisp, cool air-conditioning. The bottoms of his boots were sticky and they squeaked amidst the dim hum of the coolers and occasional buzz of the fluorescent lights. No other customers so he felt big and loud with his shoes smacking and sticking to the linoleum.
He was browsing the chip aisle when the bell chimed again, and a tall man in a white button down shirt and dark slacks stood by the door, his large frame blocking it. He glanced at the cashier before sliding his gaze towards Murphy. Eyes black and wide, a little effeminate for his long and angular face, he reminded Murphy of something dangerously beguiling.
Murphy, deciding to keep nothing from turning into something, went back to browsing chips and dip, aware that the man had not yet taken his eyes off him.
“You MacManus?” the voice called out of nowhere, and Murphy, startled, crunched a bag of corn chips in his hands and winced at the too-loud sound.
“Yeah,” he turned, blinking, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Who are you?”
The man’s thin lips strayed from a straight line, corners lifting into a smile that hid secrets. “Tony Romana.”
Oh fuck, an Italian mob boss. The Italian mob boss. Just what he needed.
“Look, man, I just wanted to get a pack of smokes,” Murphy began as he started to turn for the counter, intent on getting cigarettes and getting out of there. At least he had a gun this time, tucked into his waistband, a warm, solid weight that pushed into his back reassuringly.
“No trouble here,” Tony held up his hands, “I just wanted to tell you that I was very upset today with what you boys pulled on my men. I lost four really valuable guys, you see.”
Murphy shrugged, a smirk on his face. “They’re replaceable.”
Tony approached him with measured steps. The cashier was meek and quiet, nose hidden behind a magazine. She took the hint though when Tony jerked his head in the direction of the back room, and she headed that way with hardly a word, leaving the two men alone.
“Your brother…Where is he?”
Murphy hesitated. “Why?”
Tony shrugged large shoulders, “Just curious.” But a knowing look was present behind the inquiring eyes that Murphy wasn’t sure he liked.
“He’s - he’s safe. Sleeping, probably. I don’t understand what - ”
“I know,” Tony pressed his hands together, and the oddly loud sound of joints popping pricked Murphy’s ears. “Do you think it was a wise decision to leave him alone?”
“Why - ” eyes suddenly widening, recognition dawned on Murphy’s face. He resisted the urge to bolt back to the motel and see if Connor was all right. It was all about bluffing, anyway, wasn’t it?
Jaw set firmly, Murphy tightened his hand into a fist, ready to swing, as the other one hovered near his backside just over the gun. “You wouldn’t know where to look for him,” he said and took a step closer.
“You think?” Was Tony just trying to push his buttons? Or was there a real threat against Connor’s life? Murphy wasn’t there…he couldn’t take that risk.
The door to Alan’s clanged shut loudly as Murphy ran out, too quick to see the deviant smile on Tony’s thin lips.
tbc...