Girls Your Age 》fp jones

13

Lydia twirled the spaghetti on her fork. She wasn't hungry. She tapped the steel on the crockery as she listened to the dining table conversation.

"How was work, babe?" Rachel said after taking a sip of her wine.

"Ugh." He placed his fork down, the clatter being the only sharp sound in the house. The two girls looked over at the man. "Fred is thinking of firing FP Jones." The man took a large gulp of his wine, finishing off the glass and looked over in the direction of the fridge.

"Why? I thought they were friends?" Lydia sat up straight, forgetting about the food in front of her, as she stopped playing with it to make it look like she'd eaten some. Archie had got to her. He'd wormed his way into her mind, a place he didn't belong.

"They are. It's just friendship in business doesn't always work out, they should of learnt that when they first started working together."

Chris reached over to the bottle in the middle of the table and topped his glass up. "When Fred re-hired FP after he got out of jail, he made him promise that he'd be doing no dodgy stuff along side. But-. I shouldn't be saying any of this." Chris shook his head and picked up his fork again. "Besides it's not set in stone, I mean Jones is the best member of the crew."

Lydia looked back down at her broken spaghetti strands and picked up her plate. "I've been invited round to my friend's. Is it alright if I go?"

"Sure, darling." Her father said not thinking twice about it. "It's getting dark so don't be too late."

For a week night, the white Worm wasn't any less busy than it usually was. Before she had even reached the bar, Nick had placed a beer in front of her. "It's on FP's tab, like always." He winked. "He's upstairs waiting for you." He motioned to the door at the top of the metal stairs.

Lydia nodded, took her beer off the bar and headed for the stairs.

"FP's so lucky getting a girl like you." One of the young serpents blocked her route up the stairs. "I just don't get it." He laughed, his breath mixed with liquor and vomit fanned Lydia's face. "He's old! And then look at you." He stepped closer to the girl and reached round, smacking her bum.

Lydia rolled her eyes, she'd dealt with boys like this before. But that's all they were, boys, boys who squeal like pigs when in danger. And that's exactly what the juvenile boy did, squeal. Lydia pushed the boy, hard, and in his weak, drunken state he stumbled and hit his head on the metal step. She didn't need this right now. Her eyes drifted to the door above her, she could easily just step over the boy, but Lydia never did things the easy way. Lydia stepped over him, the heel of her heavy boots hovering over his Adam's apple. "Let's get a couple of things straight. FP Jones hasn't got me. He will never get me. And two if you then think you have a chance with me, boy, you are mistaken, because you just so couldn't handle me. Understood?"

He whimpered under her and she removed her foot from his throat and stepped over him.

She turned round at the top of the stairs, looking down at the boy only just getting up, rubbing his head. "Oh, and if you dare touch me again, or any woman in this shitty town, God help you!" He gulped and stepped back into the crowd.

The door to the office burst open, Lydia stood in the doorway staring at the older man who was counting and sorting money into piles. He looked up at the girl and smirked. "Fuck! I forgot how hot you look in my clothes." He licked his lips and threw down the remainder of the money he had in his hand, ruining the neat piles and counted total.

He stood up forcefully from his desk, the chair screeching loudly against the floor. Lydia stepped in the room and closed the door. She felt FP behind her, pressing her front against the wood. He pulled back her hair, placing it on her left shoulder, leaving the right side of her neck exposed. His lips pressed against her skin. Lydia shut her eyes at his lustful touch.