Baby, We're Meant To Be

By the evening, a storm had built over the top of New York City. Mackie had found it excruciatingly painful to concentrate on anything other then her father’s killer. Monroe had shaken her in so many ways, emotionally and physically she felt drained. Mackie watched the storm build outside, thunder and lightening threatening to cause severe damage all across the city. She felt a hand touch her shoulder lightly, and knew the familiar touch instantly.

Nick emerged, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and suit jacket. He moved his hand from Mackie’s shoulder and laced his fingers through hers. She didn’t mind this simple gesture; on the contrary, she felt butterflies when it happened. “You can do this Mackie.”

She didn’t know what to think anymore. She wasn’t sure if she should have come here in the first place. She was beginning to question everything she had ever known about humanity. Nick’s voice reinforced all the reasons for coming to New York.

“We will get through this Mackie, you and I. We will do this for Toby.” And it was at that moment, when Mackie finally started to believe they really could.

The drive to Monroe’s was painful. The rain was getting heavier as they finally ended up at the hotel Monroe had been living in for years. They were privately escorted up to the penthouse suite. Several guards stood outside of the giant double mahogany doors. Damon and Spetniki entered the suite first, closely followed by Nick and Mackie.

The room was spectacular, chandeliers hung softly from the golden ceiling; roof to floor windows gave an incredible look on the bustling city of New York under its blanket of rain. Mackie watched as Monroe stepped out from a room to the left. His gray hair was combed back, and far too much oil was used to keep it in place. Monroe was placing his rings on his fingers, as if he had just come out of the restroom.

Mackie watched him; two, three, four, five, six rings in total were on both of his hands. All of them seemed to be made out of pure gold. He wore a white business shirt with suspenders. Reading glasses, one which Mackie would not have imagined him ever wearing, were placed softly on the bridge of his nose.

Nick stiffened as Monroe edged closer towards the group. The tension in the air was mounting. Monroe stared at both Nick and Mackie. “So this is your fighter then?” His Italian accent was thicker this evening then it was earlier in the day.

Mackie simply nodded as Nick moved forward to shake Monroe’s hand, “The name’s Jonas.” Nick took Monroe’s hand in his, and instead of shaking it, he kissed one of his middle rings. Mackie was slightly surprised at his profound closeness to Monroe. “Nick Jonas.” Nick finished saying as he finally stood up straight again, taking a few steps back to stand beside Mackie.

Monroe stared at Nick, “I feel like I know you already boy.” He pointed, absentmindedly, wondering over towards the dinner table as he did so.

Nick shook his head, “I think I would know if I had ever met such an icon like you sir.” He was playing it up, a hell of a lot.

Monroe laughed heartily, “Please, sit, sit.”

The evening went on awkwardly. Monroe would summon his waiters to bring the next course of food; Nick would look awkwardly at Damon and Mackie who were both ignoring mostly everyone at the table. The main conversation was about fighting and the big tournament that was quickly approaching. Mackie didn’t have much of an appetite, and it wasn’t unseen.

“You not hungry, my dear?” Monroe questioned as the waiter’s cleared to final course.

Mackie glanced up at Nick first and then looked at Monroe, it felt as if his eyes were piercing through her very soul, “Ah, no not really I’m afraid.”

“You don’t like my food?” Monroe sat forward in his chair, seemingly offended by Mackie’s lack of appetite.

Mackie’s heart beat raced a little, “No, I love the food, I’m honestly just not very hungry. I’m sorry.”

Monroe continued to stare at the young women, and then laughed, “I joke with you ay, now you best be getting off. The storm is getting worse out there.”

The foursome left the penthouse suit and made their way down the street where taxis were lined up waiting for the late night load of drunken people to stumble out of nearby bars. The rain had eased slightly; however from the looks of the sky, more was to come. Mackie wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. It was freezing this evening, more then usual.

Damon and Mackie wondered slightly ahead of Spetniki and Nick who was deep in conversation about God only knows what. Damon pushed Mackie playfully and she ended up in a puddle facing down a dark alleyway. She paused for a moment as Damon caught up with her. He helped get her out of the pool of rain and followed her line of gaze to about halfway down the alley way.

There was a young boy sitting freezing in the dark, staring right back at Mackie and Damon. Damon stepped around the frozen Mackie and made his way towards the young boy. Mackie followed in turn, keeping a good two paces behind Damon. Nick and Spetniki stood closer to the bustling street, keeping an eye on the pair.

Damon paused to look at the boy; he was covered in all black, hunched over slightly. The boy stared up at Damon, his big brown eyes full of sorrow and worry. He seemed to have mouthed two simple words, before lunging.

Damon had no time to react whatsoever, before he could even defend himself, the young attacked him. A simple pocket knife was stabbed straight into Damon’s chest. He staggered backwards and Mackie caught him. The boy fled instantly as Nick and Spetniki both ran down the alleyway. Nick attempted to chase the boy, but after his bruising from the morning, he wasn’t fast enough.

Mackie dialled 911 as Damon lay in her lap, his breathing hitching and blood running out of his wound. She felt tears roll down her cheeks as she held tightly onto Damon’s hand.

Mackie began to wonder if she was ever going to get a normal life.