Children of Fire (Complete)

eleven

Gideon

The clubhouse wasn't empty, but it was eerily quiet for ten o'clock. Normally, there's three or four guys playing poker, drinking cheap beer. Reg, Butters, and Gino are usually sprawled out across the couches, playing some stupid video game, or in the jam room playing around on their instruments. Killian was supposed to be out running errands for me, and for once I was thankful that nobody was around. Tonight, I just needed a few moments of peace. I was completely and totally embarrassed, who has to go and apologize to someone for almost kissing them? I would never do that with anyone else, why was I so keen on making sure her feelings weren't hurt? She was just some stranger, blown into town like a tumbleweed, something I'm supposed to just overlook. But I couldn't. I couldn't overlook someone like her. Her small, petite frame. Her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her shoulders that were kissed with freckles, much like her face. She was absolutely beautiful, and she was bold, confident, fearless. I could see it in her emerald green eyes, in the way she carried herself.

Of course I went over there to apologize, I would be crazy not to. She was different, she was strong, and only the strong survive in my world. She could be a part of my world. She could be my whole world. Visiting her apartment earlier, trying not to seem too eager, was a good thing. Apologizing was a good thing, even though I was coming on to her too strong.

My thoughts were interrupted by the loud buzzing of my phone in my pocket, someone was calling me. It better be one of these dumb fuckers telling me what the hell is going on... I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, not looking at the screen, I brought the phone to my ear. "What?" I asked harshly, slightly irritated at the person who had to interrupt my thoughts. My blood began to boil when I heard a gravelly voice on the other end of the receiver.

"Ah, Gideon, how nice to hear from you. I assume things are well?" Callahan's voice had always gotten under my skin. Maybe it was the confidence that he exuded, even through a phone call. Maybe it was the fact that I knew he was a shitty person that played the game dirty, and would stop at no lengths to get what he wanted. Lucky for me, I knew plenty of people like him. I probably shouldn't have shot his right hand man in the head, but he was trying to rip me off, and that's something that I absolutely will not tolerate.

"Callahan. Yes, things are well over here. Excuse me for being rude, but why the fuck are you calling me?" I asked, grabbing a cigarette from my pocket and bringing it to my lips, striking the match and flicking it into the nearest ashtray. I inhaled deeply, as I waited for Callahan to answer me.

"I'm just calling to ask why one of my men never came back from your warehouse? I presume you know Marco? He was my right hand man, after all. He's been at several of our business transactions." Callahan's voice was cold, sharp, and steady; a dangerous combination I'd recognize anywhere-- I have this voice more often than I'd like to admit.

"Marco was killed because he was trying to rip us off. He was telling my men that the price had gone up twenty percent since the fiasco in California. It was quite a convincing story, might I add." I took another drag from my cigarette as I took a seat on the couch, propping my boots up on the coffee table-- it was about time for a new pair of boots.

"The prices haven't changed, that idiot. Marco must have been doing this behind my back. I am deeply sorry, Gideon, I will make sure this never happens again." Callahan assured me, his voice seemed sincere, and I had to pause to come up with a good answer for him. I didn't want to come off as weak, but I didn't want to appear too cocky, we were in a delicate situation. I know Callahan isn't going to let us off this easily for killing his right hand. Before I could respond, however, Callahan continued with his monologue.