The Chilly Pipes (Formerly Groovy Tunes), Saturday
Jonothon 'Lips' Starsmore frowned to himself as he settled in behind the counter of the music shop, surrounded by instruments (mostly of the musical variety, but he had a few of slightly more questionable legality tucked away just out of hands' reach at all times) and opened up his morning paper. There on the front page was a headline that made him
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Momoko found herself pushing open the door of the town music shop, the 'lost brother' story she'd been dropping all over town ready once again to be fed to whatever gullible sap worked here.
"Excuse me, but can you help me?" She asked as she stepped inside, her face a mask of pure innocence and softness.
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Some days, it was because he knew that voice. He knew it far too well for comfort. And certainly, with his hat on and his upturned coat collar covering the worst of the scarring on his face, she might not know him at a glance...
But there were some dames that Lips had hoped he wouldn't ever hear from again. Right here in his doorway was standing the second person on that list.
"Suppose that depends what you're in the market for," he intoned, content to let his jacket muffle his voice. "What do you play, doll?"
Besides 'men.'
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Momoko took a few steps in, glancing around the room as she tried to ignore the odd feeling she was getting from that voice. "No, not with an instrument. I am looking for someone. My brother. I was hoping you know him? I need to find him."
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"I suppose I could let you know that. Who's your brother, then?"
Lips nearly felt sorry for the poor bastard already.
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"I have a photo." She held out the photo she'd been showing all over town. "His name is Boz. Please? If you know anything...?" She took a breath that emphasized what cleavage she had. "I'd be so grateful!"
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All the better for him, he supposed.
"Mm, yes, I'm sure I've seen that man around at least once or twice. Not the sort to come in here, though, and while I think he has something to do with one of the local establishments, I never really was one for eating out to be able to say for sure."
At least, not since she damn near burned half his face off.
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"You've seen him? Recently?" She stepped to the side, trying to see the man's face. What expression he was making could tell her so much...
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"London?" But that voice...
"What makes you think I've been to London?" No... No!
He was dead! She'd killed him! It had nearly broken her, but she'd done it!
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"Am I mistaken, Sunshine?" His old nickname for her, twisted into something almost mocking. Angry. "You'll have to forgive me. Over the past few years I've had abysmal luck with faces."
He reached up, then, to pull down the top of his collar, just enough to show the beginning of the scars, a hint of the wreck that had once been his face hiding under the shadows.
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And memories rolled across the screen flooded Momoko's mind, causing her to stumble slightly. Memories of being hired by the Lady Gayle Edgerton to avenge her love, of finding that mark - Jonothon - in the seedier streets of London.
She remembered the ruse to get his attention, the tricks she'd used to hold it... She remembered holding him...
"But you're dead! I... I..."
Had she checked? She usually did, but she couldn't remember. The night was a blur after that last kiss and she just couldn't remember. That one job... The one she hadn't wanted to finish... She'd cried, she remembered that.
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He took an easy step around the counter, hands tucked away in his pockets, standing in the same lazy slouch she might have remembered from their days together in London.
"So, how much did she pay you? It was Gayle, wasn't it? Who the hell else would it be? And you didn't even have the bloody decency to go through the ashes to make sure after walking away."
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"I... didn't want to, Jonothon. It was a job. I had to!" the hysterics rising in her voice were real this time.
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A tiny bit. Not so much that he was aiming to return the favour, but certainly enough that he was reaching up to toy with the top of his collar. Enough that he was staying a few paces away from her, watching her with wary eyes.
"Should've done it, you know. If you were going to take the job, if you were going to try to knock me off on Gayle's contract, the least you could've done would be to see it through. Finishing the bloody job would've been a kindness."
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"I didn't want to. I... I've never not wanted to. I kill for justice. To make things a little more even for those who have no other way; the lovely killer, Ruby Blossom."
The legendary Ruby Blossom. No one could actually attribute a crime to her, but the streets murmured how she never missed a rub.
"But with you..." She sobbed into her hands. "With you... I didn't want to. That's why I couldn't finish it."
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Really, it was a wonder he could speak. It had taken a long, long time for him to be able to piece together more than just broken sentences, with long pauses between words while he waited out the pain.
"Believe me, Sunshine, whatever story Gayle sold you to get you to take this job, she led you on. I never would've hurt her. I never meant to hurt her."
His hand closed around the top of his collar and he tore it downward in one smooth motion, showing the vast extent of the scars on his lower face, what was left of his ragged lip curled into a sneer. Or perhaps not able to manage anything but one.
"Turn the hell around and take a good, long look at justice, Ruby."
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