Tomorrow Is the Day

Talia Russo was not afraid of anything--or anyone, for that matter, which is precisely why the large, tattooed man in the corner of the bar did not intimidate her.

She leaned against the bar, not really listening to her cousins speak and stared at the man, stirring her Jack Daniels with her finger and smirking. She liked to regard herself as dangerous and a force to reckon with. Talia dressed for the job too; a deep purple corset barely covered her torso, exposing her hip bones and toned abdomen. Her tight black jeans were ripped and showed the milky skin of her long legs until they ended in the highest black pumps she could manage.

Her long black and bleached blonde hair covered her shoulders and she finally looked away from the man, though he seemed oddly familiar. It could possibly be the way she was brought up--an only child raised only by her mafia-involved father--but Talia was used to men like this one. He was muscular, dressed in all black, and covered in tattoos. His nails were painted as well, the same black as her own.

The one thing that stuck out to her were his eyes though. Chocolate brown and sultry, the man's eyes were hard and controlled.

Talia turned to her two cousins. The girls were different from herself. They were both round-faced, red-haired, and perky whereas Talia's high cheekbones and nose ring gave her a more edgy sort of look than her natural cousins. She often found herself wondering how she ended up moving to Huntington Beach to live with the pair.

When her father died in a hit and run car accident earlier in the year, the happy pair along with their brother Teddy had invited Talia to move from San Francisco to Huntington, to live in their family's home. While her uncle was her mother's brother and not her father's, the families had maintained a close relationship after Talia's mother died giving birth to whom was supposed to be her baby brother.

Her aunt and uncle's pleading had brought her seven hours south to live near her cousins. She'd opted to rent her own apartment rather than live with her family, even though they seemed to live there more than even she did. She was closest with Teddy as she found her female cousins to be tiring after a long period of time.

"Talia, a penny for your thoughts," her cousin Becky said, leaning over her sister and tossing her long, gingery hair over her shoulder. Talia smiled sardonically and glanced at the man. She raised her glass to him and raised an eyebrow before throwing the amber liquid back.

"My thoughts are worth more than a penny Beck," she said, the words dripping from her lips like honey. Becky laughed and rolled her eyes, ordering her cousin another drink. The family was easily the liveliest group in the bar, considering Teddy was well on his way to wasted and Becky and Shannon were both hyper and enthused that they were out.

Any dirty looks the crew could have garnered were deflected by Talia's powerful presence. When she'd moved to Huntington Beach she'd quickly claimed Poor Bobby's as her haunt. Anyone who wanted to challenge her or her family could bring it out to the parking lot as far as she was concerned. Her temper was her father's, as mostly everything was. The only thing she'd inherited from her Irish mother was her pale skin and her blue eyes.

"Talia!" Teddy yelled, his drink sloshing dangerously close to spilling, "Dance with me!"

Her music taste differed from her cousin's, though she could live with the indie hardcore they loved. She shook her head though, keeping an eye on Becky and Shannon. They had walked to the end of the bar and were talking to two girls Talia had never seen before. They looked trashy in comparison to her modestly dressed cousins and Talia was on alert. Teddy followed her gaze and laughed.

"Don't worry about them! They can live without you Tally, have some fun," he said, gripping her hand and pulling her out to dance. She rolled her eyes and adjusted her nose ring before swaying her hips to the light rock music playing. Teddy was drunk and dancing ridiculously, making her laugh and start to let go a little.

"I worry about them!" she yelled over the music.

"You shouldn't! You worry too much," he said, smiling thinly. She sighed and nodded, letting him twirl her around the floor. Poor Bobby's was a nasty bar, a hole in the wall, dirty and unused. The glam crowd of Huntington steered clear of it, if they even knew it existed, and it was usually inhabited by burnt out bikers, rockers, and the occasional young punk band looking for exposure. When Talia and her cousins were there, it took on a slightly better atmosphere.

After the song ended and Talia was sure Shannon and Becky were friends with the young girls at the bar, she told Teddy she was going out for a cigarette. His expression softened for a second and he nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She shook her head at him and went outside, puzzled by his display.

It was chilly out, a breeze rippling across the parking lot. The music was muted outside and because it was an off day, there wasn't much chatter coming from the bar. Talia lit a cigarette, wondering if it would be worth it to get the keys to Teddy's car and get her jacket. She shrugged it off, fanning her hair around her shoulders for some warmth.

"Hey," a deep voice rumbled. She glanced up to see the man from inside standing next to her, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. Talia smiled tightly, assessing him. He was absolutely gorgeous, which she'd already known from inside. His jawline was perfect, as well as his cheekbones and his nose was simply divine. He had on a tight black t-shirt, which showed off his many tattoos and well-sculpted body.

"Hi," she said shortly, letting her attitude take over. No matter how attractive this stranger was, she still had an odd feeling that he was a threat. While he didn't scare her (yet), she felt it was always better to be safe than sorry. He wasn't much taller than her, not in her heels, but he was much bigger than her.

"How's your night goin' gorgeous?"

"My name's Talia and it's going perfectly fine," she spat coldly. He smirked.

"Alright Talia, why so hostile?"

She didn't like the way he questioned her, as if he had the power to make her answer. She shrugged and smoked her cigarette quickly, seeking any reason possible to get back inside. The feeling on the back of her neck had nothing to do with the cold. He stared at her, calculating.

"Answer me."

"I don't feel the need to clarify my actions to every douchebag with a superiority complex," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. She wanted to slip off her heels and run after the look he gave her. He shook his head and laughed.

"Don't take this as me hitting on you honey, I'm not," he clarified. She nodded and smirked.

"Like I fucking said, my name is Talia."

"Daddy wouldn't like hearing that come out of your mouth but then again, Daddy can't hear much of anything anymore can he?" he said quietly, sinking down so his face was level with hers. He smirked as her mouth fell open. There was no way this stranger could know about her father's death.

"What are you even talking about?" she rebutted, trying to buy herself time. Talia wasn't weak nor stupid; her father had been involved in bad business habits. He'd often told her that she could possibly be a target if anything ever happened to him. That wasn't until she was older of course and she'd always felt safe living in his home. Now, he was gone.

"You know what I'm talking about Talia. You haven't been very smart tonight. Giving me your name for one, that was stupid," he said cockily. The smirk on his face was so arrogant that she wanted to slap it off, or kiss it off she decided later, and her blood ran cold.

"Talia isn't my real name, I was bluffing," she lied, dropping her cigarette and stepping on it. Now she was panicking, her palms were sweating, and her breathing fast. He laughed and shook his head.

"You're not Talia Russo? Daughter of Andrew Russo? You aren't going to be 23 two Tuesdays from now? Lost your mother when you were two? Born in New York and then moved to San Francisco with your father after your mother's death? I know a lot about Talia Russo, enough to know that you are her and I certainly know that you're coming with me," he said, pulling a white rag out of his pocket. It only took her a moment to realize it was covered in Chloroform.

"Fuck you," she said calmly, "I'm not going anywhere except back inside."

He said nothing, grabbing her wrist and pushing the rag in her face. Her panic escalated and she punched him straight in the face. Obviously surprised, he released her wrist and then surged forward to grab her. Talia was quick though, turning on her heel and running straight back into Poor Bobby's.

She knew the man would follow her and she scanned the place for a familiar face. Becky and Shannon were gone, as well as the two girls they'd met. There were a few men scattered around but Teddy was nowhere to be found. She heard the door open behind her and she flew toward the bathrooms without looking behind her.

"Talia?" Teddy asked as he left the men's room. His features showed his surprise to see her in such a state.

"Teddy! There's a man after me! He knew my name and Dad and all this stuff about me. He said he was taking me away with him," she spoke quickly and tried to express her fear. She was always taught to hide fear and other weak emotions but she wanted her cousin to know how serious she was. He didn't react properly though, gripping her wrists in his hands and dragging her back out toward the bar. "No! We have to get out the back or something! He's trying to kidnap me!"

"It's fine, you'll be fine."

"Where's Becky? Shannon! Becky!" she started screaming out for her cousins but they were nowhere in sight.

"Talia," he said seriously, "I'm sorry."

Her heart pounded and suddenly, she heard the man's voice again though he was talking to Teddy, who appeared completely sober now. She stared at his face in terror as the man gripped her waist from behind and lifted her into the air. She began hitting him and kicking, trying to break free. She screamed for help as he walked towards the door but the one thing about Poor Bobby's--the thing she previously enjoyed--was the anonymity; everyone minded their own fucking business.

"We told you to get her drunk so she'd put up less of a fight," the man said to Teddy as they stepped outside. Teddy said nothing, only stared sadly at his cousin who shrieked and screamed for help. "But you people never fucking listen. We'll be in touch."

With that, the man walked across the parking lot with long strides. Talia felt like a rag doll in his arms but she refused to give up. If no one would help her, she'd help herself. Kicking one of her heels off, she picked it up when he passed it and then began beating his back with the sharp heel of it. His body jerked forward as the blows landed and he dropped her.

She got up and lunged forward but he caught her again, mumbling "fucking cunt" under his breath and trying to keep her limbs under control. She screamed and swore, trying to hit him but never managing it again. He pushed her into the back of a large black SUV and quickly pulled a pair of cable ties around her wrists, holding them behind her back.

In this way, she couldn't attempt to unlock the doors and he slid into the drivers seat. He immediately pulled it out of the spot and she hit her head against the window, staring sadly at her cousin. She knew Teddy couldn't see her through the tinted windows but she hoped he felt as guilty as she felt despair.

She'd always been taught to put family first, had the saying tattooed on her forearm; blood ran thicker than water but here she was, floating upstream with a thug.

The man drove through the empty streets at an obviously illegal pace. The heavy rock music playing from the radio was quiet though and he put his phone up to his ear as he drove. Talia bit back the smart remark she had about it and tossed her head around to get her hair out of her face. He punched the music off and then spoke.

"Yeah, Vengeance? Got the target; ETA about 25 minutes. She's a fighter, so get ready."

He hung up without another word and Talia smirked smugly at the "she's a fighter" comment. She damn well was and she wouldn't let anyone get in her way. No matter who this man worked for, she'd get out of his twisted grip somehow. A thousand questions ran through her head alongside millions of insults. She was restless and struggling.

"Who the fuck are you?" she asked bitingly, sitting forward in her seat. He chuckled and glanced in the rear view mirror at her.

"I'm your worst fucking nightmare."