Devil

When she got to Finn's at 11, Red was already there.

Supposedly, he was called "Red" because of his tendency to not wash the blood off of his hands after delivering a beating, but Nebraska had never asked. He was Finn's second choice. They both took control over some pretty shady areas, so it was expected. Nebraska hadn't even tried to look for another enforcer, but decided beforehand that she would handle all business herself. Red dealt with debts and vendettas, but she found that sex was a better way to get what she wanted than pain. And Red's associates weren't known for being that delicate.

She winked a greeting to the man, who was leaning heavily against the faded brick of the building. He was huge and muscular, and covered in tattoos. For some reason, he perpetually looked like he had just gotten out of jail. He'd never been, though. The Kid always kept an eye on that.

Red just grunted in response, and followed her through the glass doors. The Brick (so named for the road it was on) had only been bought recently, and still smelled roughly of new paint. It had been a restaurant before, and the building had taken quite a bit of updates, including cameras and sound proof installation, before opening. It looked nice, though Nebraska had nothing to compare it to. It was the first time she'd been.

Finn was upstairs in one of the three flats above the club, smoking a cigarette at his desk. He looked surprised to see her, though she was nearly always early for everything. It was a good way to hear things.

He nodded at Red, who left, closing the door behind him, before stomping down the stairs. Nothing about Red was very subtle. Nebraska was rather glad to be rid of him.

"So what is the emergency?" she smirked, sitting down on the leather couch next to Finn's office chair.

"I've narrowed it down to three people."

"And?"

"Red and I are gonna take care of it now. I'd like for you to be there."

"Why? It isn't even that much money."

"They respect you, alright?!"

Finn sighed, putting out his cigarette. He ran his fingers through his hair, turning to face Nebraska for the first time.

The two of them hadn't been the same since she'd returned. She was still angry about his role in her "warning", and had barely spoken to him since the plane ride back. They'd gone to the wedding together, to show unity in the new leadership, and she refused to speak to him even then. For Finn, it was frustrating, but for Nebraska, it wasn't enough. She was half tempted to hit him now, but refrained, because it wouldn't be much to do with him. She was still furious over the day's encounter with Danny.

"It isn't a problem with the pay. I was a bartender. When you left, I worked with Red, and now I run a whole section. They don't like me, they don't know me, and none of them understand why I'm in charge and you aren't."

Nebraska smirked again, unable to hide her pleasure at Finn's predicament.

"You're not in charge, Finnley. I am. I gave you this half to keep you out of my hair."

Finn slammed his hand down on the desk.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You are," she responded calmly. "You're a fucking hypocrite."

"Enough about the man, Nebraska Jones, get over it! You broke the rules!"

"I MADE THE RULES!" She was screaming now, but she didn't care. "I was the one who enforced that, not you. You got your promotion on my back, you lying chav!"

The two of them stopped, breathing heavily.

"You weren't in charge, whore."

Nebraska slapped him across the face, dragging her nails a little at the end, drawing blood. She stood up, grabbing him by the collar of his t-shirt.

"There's a reason I got this far," she whispered in his ear. "Don't ever forget that."

She was down the stairs and out the door by the time he had fully recovered from the blow and the threat.

--

When Nebraska got back to her flat, Danny was sitting in front of the door.

"What?" She asked, throwing down her keys. She honestly was not in the mood for more fighting.

"I'm sorry," he said.

He was looking down at the hideous patterned carpet, refusing to even look at her. From her angle, she could see he was tired. He looked exhausted.
Nebraska slid down the wall next to him, sitting so close that their knees were touching. She probably looked exhausted, too.

"I don't remember what we were fighting about."

Danny let out a tired chuckle, then rubbed his eyes. They were red.

"I broke up with her."

"You shouldn't have."

"No, you were right. It's not fair."

Nebraska leaned on his shoulder, slipping her arm around his.

"Someone called me a whore," she murmured into his shirt. "It made me think of you."

Danny shifted uncomfortably, and she sat up, embarrassed at having leaned on him. She had never been very good about physical contact, or showing affection, and refrained from doing so in nearly all situations. She was just about to apologise, when he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Though the hallway wasn't particularly chilly, she instantly felt warm and comforted. He rested his head on top of hers, giving her a slight kiss on the forehead.

"You're not a whore," he murmured, and she laughed.

"This might be the first time I've ever heard that." He pulled her closer.

"I think you might have a lot of stories to tell me, then."

"Maybe tomorrow."

They sat like that for nearly a half hour, then got up and went into the flat, where they quickly fell asleep.