Thick As Blood

Richard had once again fond himself in a place he’d often wandered before. It wasn’t anywhere physical. It was a state of mind that sometimes even he feared to enter.

He had been pestered with terrible nightmares for weeks on end, and he didn’t know how he would cope with this utter sense of loss. His mind led him to the war where the days he spent laying in cover for a shot were the worst times in his life, waiting, waiting, and waiting.

But once that bullet was finally free of the barrel, a heavy sense of turmoil was lifted from his shoulders, leaving him pleased. And on this particularly dark day Richard’s mind was thinking of only that, only Cecelia was the one to receive the bullet. That there and then ended his tragedy, his grief, and he would be peaceful, for only a moment.

His unnatural aspect of killing had been something acquired through the war, with bodies being only bodies; it was easy to see them drop dead. Every new death meant a way to win the war. At first the thought of hurting her and been so restricted in his head, completely forbidden. But his first trip to New York with Jimmy had caused him to think of other means.

They had spent the day making dealing for shipment, and even trying to move heroine around as well. Jimmy was doing business on his own now, and Rothstein was his potential big client. Richard had been there in the background while Jimmy asked for their business, chatted, and revisited old topics.

Cecelia’s name had stung in his ear quite well.

With the mention of her show and how happy she was, Richard’s finger only tightened on the gun in his hand. He closed his eye and only listened.

“I wanted to ask, Ms. Cecelia – how was she in Atlantic City socially?” Rothstein asked.

“She was fine. Went with Nuck’ to a few parties, never missed a show.”

“Did she bring a lot of men back with her? After the show I mean.” Rothstein asked.

“I suppose a few. Dunno’ Richard would best be the one to ask, but he ain’t too fond of her.” Jimmy stated quietly.

“I see.” Rothstein said, “she is quite the handful.” He said gesturing to Richard.

Richard bit his tongue and kept his eye shut and waited for them to finish.

*******

Richard and Jimmy returned to their hotel room to a quiet evening. They would drive back first thing in the morning. Jimmy, being inebriated from heavy drinking was fast asleep in the room next to Richard’s, so much that his snoring could be heard through the wall.

He sat patiently for the longest time before he left his room like a phantom. He was level headed at the moment, clear at what he wanted to do. It would take him a mere moment to be sure – and another few minutes to execute what he wished.

Like New York, her shows were crowed, men filing around her, following her, begging for her attention. He didn’t know if who was worse, New York, or Atlantic City fans. Like any other man he stood at the bar, grabbing a drink. He decided to stand in the back of the room, unnoticed.

Her show was different, altered in many ways. In one, it was less innocent, and more indecent. By the time she had shed all her clothes on stage Richard had left in a mad rage. While he was fuming he couldn’t help but think the worst thoughts… she had hurt him now in more than one way – and he didn’t want to stand it.

Part of him said that he was the unlovable one; if he still did love her he should end his own life. Killing her would serve no purpose, but the way it had felt so good in the war… only made him itch.
___________________________________________

Cecelia had brought every bit of strength she had left to performing each night Rothstein asked her to. If it ran a course with the safety of her baby, she would’ve done anything. It had been a few weeks, leaving her to ponder and think of not only the past, but the future as well. She could only hope Richard might come looking for her, but alas these last few months had proved uneventful, and Cecelia couldn’t help but note and unhappy tone with Rothstein when he inquired about the prospective father.

“So you manage to leave here on the grounds of sharing your bed with another man, but the moment you get to Atlantic City, you lose those standards?” he asked her.

“No… It was different, not… not like that.” Cecelia had said.

“So it was mutual, mutual attraction, was it not?”

“Yes… I suppose.” Cecelia said.

“My, I find that intriguing, especially for you Cici. Where did you manage to find such a man?” he asked.

“Lucky prospect.” She said, careful not to share too much with Rothstein.

“A mere, business deal?” he asked while he sipped at a glass of chilled milk, and poked at a decadent plate of pink salmon. “I love a good business investment, tell me darling, what sort of business does he do?”

“Your kind.” She said slyly, before excusing herself from the table for a short trip to the rest room. She came back only moment later to the same man.

“By business you mean well planned investments?” he asked.

“No, he’s not a gambler,” she said giving Rothstein the only stab she could.

He pursed his lips and looked back at her. The air became awkward, and thick. She listened to a record casually playing in the background.

“What do you suppose is going to happen?” he asked. “You’re going to carry around that baby, and make it all up in the end?”

She stayed silent.

“I’m going to lose quite a bit of money while you… take time off.” He said casually. “Which is really too bad because you are quite the little money maker.”

Cecelia felt the uneasy feeling in the room make her sick all over again.
___________________________________________________

There was a sort of mystery about how Richard felt this very moment.

At a neighboring hotel he had taken a room to his liking and silently waited for Cecelia to return to her own room. The curtains were drawn immediately, it left him nothing to look for, and he wondered slightly if his replacement was doing more than keeping her company at the moment, another thought that he could not stand.

It only drove him further into the madness that consumed him, the madness she had created.

She had only pulled him close for a short while, but that was all Richard needed to realize that she mattered more to him than their romps in behind closed doors. She had done far too much damage.

He saw rustling at the curtains. Pulling them back was Luciano, he could see that through the sight fastened to his rifle. His clothes were disheveled, stained… Richard nearly pulled the trigger at his skull, but he realized the sight to hold had more to it. He held his breath while he watched several men exit the room. He watched the upset girl on the floor hold her head and cry, for what Richard wasn’t sure.
If they had hurt her, he wasn’t going to think twice about pulling the trigger – but the terrified face of his lost love was all that tormented him now.

He watched her hit a man trying to talk to her; she was fighting them, all of them. Luciano had to pull her away from the other before he slapped her hard across the face. Richard pulled back on the chamber, hearing the shell become locked.

The fight across the way had erupted to violence between not just Cecelia but some of the others. Richard killed the one who seemed to think that hurting her was okay, that she was some piece of meat to hurt all he wanted. He would worry about the Luciano kid later.

Richard packed his gun swiftly and left the window open. He left out the back exit and made his way around to the hotel before heading towards Cecelia’s room. He had found it easily by way of recognizing those he’d seen leaving, and from the scoping he’d done before.

He kicked open the door, gun still loaded, ready to kill the other.

But she was alone. Luciano had run, probably to notify Rothstein and would be back any moment. Upon seeing all the blood around her, he immediately felt terrible, exposing her to this was something she’d never appreciate. He approached her with hesitation until she looked up at him, her face almost heavy with sadness. She looked at him like he was a lost lover returning to her, and she was more than grateful to take his arms.