Thick As Blood

Nucky Thompson couldn’t help but be thrilled that the club was pouring in money. As Atlantic City Treasurer he knew where each portion would be going – and in his current predicament he was quite happy about that. Nucky seemed to have found himself a bit of luck. He wasn’t entirely sure how Rothstein would take the news that New York’s once most prized performer had ran away to Atlantic City to work for Nucky Thompson. Nucky and Rothstein already weren’t the greatest allies.

He was finally glad to go back to sleep next to Margret after he had received a call that all had been taken care of. He was laying awake for no more than ten minutes – when he got another call.

“What the fuck is it this time?” Nucky answered.

“Sir.” It was Eddie. “We’ve had a bit of a situation down at the club.”

“I’m aware of that Eddie, I thought it was taken care of?”

“It was. Until Mr. Steinzer broke into Ms. Darmody’s dressing room.”

“Fuck.” Nucky stated. “What happened?”

“Mr. Harrow is taking care of the situation currently – he wanted to know if you had any preferences to what happens to Mr. Stienzer?” Eddie asked.

“No, I do not care. Steinzer isn’t an asset of mine, he’s not protected by anybody.”

“So you don’t care if he is killed?” Eddie questioned.

“No. Just clean up the mess.” Nucky said before shoving the receiver back onto the phone.
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Cecelia was able to back up a few feet before hitting the pinstriped wall. She tucked back her own glass of whiskey, and didn’t offer any to the man in front of her, he had obviously had enough.

“Don’t worry baby.” He began, “I showed up to take care of ya.” He reached foreword and fingered the soft curls on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry darlin’ but I’ve already got company for tonight.” She lied.

“I don’t see anyone around.” The man said slightly laughing.

“Well they’ll be here soon, so you better leave.” She said, while trying to be intimidating. She realized he had been there the whole time, watching, and waiting. Waiting for Richard to leave, for her to undress… she felt a familiar feeling creep into her stomach. One she hadn’t felt since she was little. This man, in his drunken state, reminded Cecelia of her father, a man she had never been fond of. “Look, I don’t want to cause any trouble alright, you can walk outta’ here – and we wont have a problem.”

“A problem? We ain’t got no problem.”

“We will if you don’t leave.”

“Come on beautiful! I saw you lookin’ at me, we got all the time in the world.” He said while leaning in to kiss her face. His lips planted on the corner of her mouth when she pushed him away – but he firmly held onto her wrist.

“Look if you want me to pay,” he explained. “I got money, plenty of cash all for you baby.”

His hands were all over her. Like he owned her, like he bought her she tried to slink away from him but his firm grasp and the wall behind her left her no where to go.

“Please,” she began to beg, “please stop.”

“Stop what honey? We’re only just getting started.” He told her, his hands snaked their way up her legs making her skin crawl.

“Somebody! Help me!” she began to cry out. The man was angered at her attempt to signal for help, he hit her across the face sending her tiny body to the floor. Now that her hands were free she could crawl away from him, and she would’ve made it to the door if he hadn’t grabbed her ankle and pulled her back to him. Now she was on her back, lying on the ground, an even worse predicament.

This guy was heavy, and from his drunken state he mostly fell on top of Cecelia knocking the air out of her lungs. She gasped and coughed hoping her voice would come back to yell again. But once he regained himself and lifted off her chest so she could take in a breath she felt a firm fist fly across her face leaving the stale taste of iron in her mouth.

She froze when he took off his blue jacket, revealing his tweed vest and white collard shirt. He had a silver pocket watch in his chest pocket, he was well dressed – and probably did have quite a bit of money. But it wouldn’t have mattered, she would never have taken it.

Panic erupted in her when he reached for the buttons on his pants – ”Richard!” managed to escape her lips, another plea for help, whether he’d hear it or not she didn’t know.
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Richard Harrow was slightly off with how his night was supposed to have turned out. He was doing his job when Jimmy had called him. The casino had ordered an extra shipment that night and they had just finished when he’d gotten Jimmy’s call.

Richard would do anything for Jimmy. Jimmy had tried to make it sound like bringing booze to the Ritz was more important than helping his sister but Richard couldn’t help but think that Jimmy was really hoping for him to look after her. Maybe Jimmy had taken his advice.

He did feel a little uncomfortable around her, they way she had greeted him… it had never been that different since he’s gotten back from the war. Usually Richard saw the look in their eyes, the one that read: “what happened to him?”, Later Disgust would follow, and then total dismissal of his existence.

But she had grabbed onto him like a long lost friend, and the way she leaned against him to take off her shoes… made Richard feel helpful, and needed. Of course, he had heard about her act; she entertained men, perhaps that was all she was doing to him.

Richard stayed anyway. Finding a soft cushion on the couch down the hall was more than he needed. He was tired from driving all day and moving shipments, but he was more than willing to do this for Jimmy. A few drunken men did find their way upstairs – but they took one look at Richard and his hidden scars and decided it was best to look elsewhere. Though, even if they tried he wouldn’t let them down the hall.

After a short while he heard that the commotion of men had died down, and he stood to check on the status of downstairs, and he planned to return once more to check on her one final time. But that’s when he heard what sounded like a soft voice.

He stopped at the end of the hall. Listening for something again. Was she just talking on the phone? Did she call for him?

He turned around and stepped down the hall, his soft foot steps finally were near the door, as he listened for any other sound. If she had called him, she would call again? Wouldn’t she? Richard wasn’t entirely sure someone like her would ever need someone like him.

She was beautiful, like Jimmy and he had discussed. Like Gillian she would age beautifully and look youthful even into her forties. She was a unique individual with talents most girls didn’t have. It was easy for her to knock men over with a bat of her eyelashes – she was superb, on the inside and out. They way she treated him convinced him of that. They way she smiled at him… Richard could almost forget he was horribly disfigured.

Then he heard his name, Richard, like she needed him, but he hesitated, had she really said it – a beautiful girl like that why would she need a man like him? He could hear… something – he wasn’t sure what. But didn’t choose to wait any longer, he twisted the silver knob and thrust the door foreword. Which revealed the shaken girl and the sick man above her. With a swift kick Richard kicked the man in his side with enough force to knock him over. Richard leaned down and pulled her further from the man, he stepped over her and stomped the heel of his boot deep into the mans chest, and with a kick of the other foot Richard was sure he broke his nose.

With the man not fighting back, Richard took a moment to turn to Cecelia who had her back presses against her vanity – afraid of the man at Richards feet. He kneeled before her.

“Mm, he hurt you?” Richard asked, even though it was obvious he had. Her lip was bleeding, and she had what looked like a scratch mark across her eye.

Something about this situation was all too familiar for Cecelia, the smell of whiskey, the kind man in front of her offering her his hand. Like before she took it willingly, and cried deeply in his shoulder. Before it had been Tory’s shoulder, and she missed him. She missed feeling safe.

She felt Richard pull her from the ground while she still clung to him like a lost little child. With his arm around her waist he lead her outside and down the hall. He sat her on the couch that he had been waiting only a moment ago. Her blue silk robe had fallen down her shoulder to almost reveal her left breast, Richard lifted the silk easily to sit on her shoulder and he turned back to the room he took two steps before turning back, taking off his jacket, and draping it around her.
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Cecelia spent her third night at the Ritz in the same room she had spent the first. Cecelia was moved when Eddie found his way down the hall, he and a few other men were there to assist Richard, and in what exactly she wasn’t sure. But when she realized she could still smell the cigar smoke in her hair, she wanted nothing more than a bath.

Eddie lead her back to her old room and explained that she could reach him by calling the front desk if she found she required something. She quietly complied and thanked him before she locked the door tightly. She had turned on each light in the room, the lamp by the bed, the bathroom, and both wall lights. She stripped off her clothing leaving everything on the bed while she wrapped a towel around her figure and waited for the hot water to fill to the top of the tub.

She climbed in, and automatically knew the water was too hot for comfort, but she knew she’d get used to it, and the water would cool eventually. He couldn’t help but think back to her father… and what he had done. She couldn’t help but want to curse Tory for leaving her when she needed him most. She blamed her mother for more than she was guilty for, and as far as she was convinced – she didn’t really have a brother.

She let the cigar smoke soak out of her hair while she softly hummed to herself the tune of her favorite song. She dried herself with the cotton towel and looked at her swollen face in the mirror. She called the front desk to bring her some ice, the last thing she wanted was to interact with another human being – but she needed to bring down the swelling in her lip and her crying eyes if she was to perform tomorrow.