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The Bullet and The Rose
By : MrsSaruman
Category: S through Z > Snatch
Views: 1780 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own Snatch, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. - Chapter List
Four
The sun is sinking
outside the broad windows of the Three Doors’ pub; Londoners young and old
wander back and forth, going home to somewhere. Idle chatter fills the bar, and the Irishman behind the counter
makes a joke. Laughter surrounds
me. It’s warm in the bar and I feel
peaceful for the first time all day. I
sigh and turn my eyes from the window.
Pauline looks at me with a questioning eyebrow raised. I shrug and she smiles at me, knowing that
I’m choking down my fear and my anger with each sip of beer I take. I’m not ashamed to admit that I am afraid. If anything, my fear fuels the hatred that
long ago lodged itself deep in my gut. I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m not able to come up with the
money; a slap on the cheek is nothing compared to what could come my way if I’m
not careful.I turn my mind away
from the dark thoughts that cloud it, and attempt to focus on something brighter. I look around at my friends again. At least I’ll always have this. Alex catches my eye and I wink.“At least you’re in a
better mood,” she says to me, smiling.“Not really,” I
reply. “I’m trying as hard as I can to
put myself in a decent state of mind, but, honestly, I’m terrified of Boris.”Susie shrugs. “You wouldn’t have to be if you’d let me set
you up with a nice man to protect you.”I roll my eyes. “Susan, how many times do I have to tell you
I’m perfectly fine on my own? I have to
remind you that most of the men you try to set me up with are harmless, sweet
boys who wouldn’t know a gun from their arsehole.”Susan looks
offended. “I just think you need some
direction in your life. You’re too
violent, Seda. It would do you good to
have a nice, gentle man to go home to.
It might even you out a little.”I shoot her a look
that could kill, and she just shrugs.
“I’m fine, Susie. I don’t
need a man, and I’m starting to find sex boring, anyway. I’ve accepted the fact I’ll probably be alone
for a while yet, and honestly, I’m perfectly all right with that.” I look at my friend’s hurt face, and
instantly feel worse. “Susie, love, I
appreciate your efforts. I really
do. I just don’t know what I
want right now, so how could I possibly know what I want in a man?”“You’ll
figure it out someday. Until then, I’ve
got an idea of who the next lucky man’s going to be.” Susan grins wickedly.“Jesus,
Susan! Didn’t I just tell you-“This
time it’s Alex that steps in. “Seda,
don’t worry. This one might just be to
your specifications.”I
throw up my hands and turn to Pauline.
“You’re not trying to get me married; I’m going to talk to you now.”Pauline
laughs. “You haven’t given me a chance
yet.”“I’m
going for a pint. Anyone else fancy another?”
I ask the table. Pauline raises her
almost empty glass, and Alex holds up a finger. “I’ll just get the next round.”
I walk up to the bar and set my empty glass down in front of the Irish
bartender. “In honor of your country,
I’ll have four Guinness, please.”The
barman smiles at me. “I’ll have the
girl bring it out to your table. Girls
night, is it?” he asks, and I nod.“We’ve
all had a hard day’s work and need some time to relax before going home.”He
nods again, probably thinking we have packs of squalling brats and demanding
husbands to go home to. I let him think
as I pay, making sure he sees there is no ring on my finger. As I walk back to where my friends are, I
wonder about what Alex had said. A man
finally up to my specifications? I
couldn’t help but doubt. I’m a picky
woman, and no one Alex or Susie had ever mentioned seemed like someone I could
get along with for a prolonged amount of time.
I shrug it off, figuring I would find out when time demanded. I have too much on my mind already to worry
about something else. I sit, pursing my
lips. “Is he at least taller than me?”
is the only thing I ask.Both
Suzie and Alex burst out laughing and I give the topic up. Instead I sigh and wish for my beer, but
both peace of mind and alcohol elude me.
How long does it take to get a fucking drink? I think
angrily. The pub is crowded, but this is my neighborhood boozer
and I give enough of my custom to this establishment to afford a bit of special
treatment. Alex must have noticed the
scowl on my face; she reaches over and pats my elbow. I smile at her, assuring her with my eyes that there is nothing
seriously wrong. Well, there is plenty
that is seriously wrong, but it isn’t her problem.The girl shows up
then, setting four glasses brimming with the black stuff in front of us. She gets the empties, and I tip her a few
quid. I lift my glass, toasting my
friends with a nod of my head. “Here’s
to doing things one night at a time.”Pauline, Susie and
Alex all lift their glasses in response, and we clink them together. The sound is hollow, without hope. I sigh and drink. The beer is thick in my mouth and I swallow bitterly. I do everything bitterly these days. I pull a face, setting down my glass. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and
catch a man giving me the fish-eye from across the bar. He notices that I’ve seen him and he turns
away. I reach up to rub the stubble on
the back of my head. Pauline grins and
joins in; Susie and Alex reach across the table to mimic her. If it keeps going like this, pretty soon
I’ll have half the bar over here rubbing my chelsea. I shake my head, making a little whine of agitation. The two pieces of hair on either side of my
face hit me in the eyes. I curse. Everyone else laughs. “At least pretend to love me,” I sigh.As we leave the bar I
wave goodbye to Susie and Alex, who are headed in the opposite direction. I turn to Pauline. “Fancy a walk in the park?”“I’ll go as far as the
bridge with you; I’ve got a lovely little bird waiting for me at some chip
shop, and I’ll be damned if I go home lonely again tonight.”I smile. Pauline has never been shy about her sexual
proclivities, but it has caused her some problems in the past, the least of
which involved her losing her job. The
worst of it, well, her nose looked better slightly crooked anyway.“I hate this bleedin’
weather. I wish it would just rain and
get it over with; I can’t stand the fog,” I complain as we walk.“It’s not so bad,
really. If you’re ever in the mood for
a bit of sport, head down to the East End on a foggy night. You’ll feel just like Jack the Ripper.”“How delightfully
ominous.” Pauline was smiling her blood
thirsty grin, the one I’ve seen on her face when she was about to get violent
or fucked. Sometimes, it was both. “You know, I can’t stop thinking about
Boris.”Pauline winces. “Maybe Susie is right; you should settle
down with some nice man to get that Russian out of your head. Doesn’t he buy all his women anyway?”I squeal with
frustration and push at my friend. She
laughs at me and cuffs the back of my head.
“You know what I mean.”“I do, I do. It’s just too easy sometimes.” She pauses for a moment, as if
thinking. “I can’t tell you what to do,
Seda. You’re well protected enough as it
is; I would be terrified of walking into your flat after dark with all the heat
you carry. But, they don’t call him the
‘Bullet Dodger’ for nothing. Just stand
up to him.”“Easy for you to say.”
Pauline sighs. “I know.
It’s one thing for me to say ‘go on then,’ but I know if it came down to
it I couldn’t stand up to Brick Top one whit.
So, I guess I know what you’re feeling.”“I should have done
that at the beginning, but I was too afraid.
I’ve heard all these horrible rumors, and once you get that in your
head, it’s hard to get it out.”We walk in silence,
the sounds of our shoes muffled by the people swelling the streets. It is the weekend for some of ‘em; well
dressed or otherwise. It’s the weekend
for me, too, but there isn’t the familiar happiness in my chest that is
normally there on a Saturday night.“Sleeping alone
tonight?” Pauline asks, winking.I nod. “Had a bloke last night; it wasn’t what I
was looking for.” I shrug. “I’m tired of sex anyway.”Pauline chuckles. “I never thought I’d see the day when Seda
Atbridge told me she was tired of sex.
You’re not tired of sex, love.
You’re just tired of bad sex.”“Thanks for the
clarification.”We reach the bridge
and Pauline grabs my hand. “It’ll be
okay, Seda, I promise. Just go home,
call up the Russian, and tell him you’re not about to take any shit any
more. He lives halfway across London,
for Christ’s sake! It’s not like you’re
taking much of his business.”I smile and pull my
friend in for a hug. “Take care,
Paulie. Have fun tonight, and don’t
hurt her too badly. She might have to
work in the morning.”I can hear my friend
laughing as I turn to my right, and take off walking along the Thames. Pauline has always been good for me. I had met her when she was working at a bar
a few blocks from my old flat. We had
bonded over Dunhill cigarettes and warm beer, and by the time the night was
over I didn’t care that my date had stood me up. Pauline has always been there to bail me out in a pinch or offer
advice, asked for or not. Sometimes I
took it, sometimes I didn’t. Tonight,
however, I have had just enough to feel slightly reckless.My mind turns back to
Boris. What was I going to do about
that damn Cossack? I would tell
him to fuck off. Pauline is right. Why should I let some immigrant Russian tell
me how to spend my money or run my business?
I’ve got enough fire power at my place to stop half the army, let alone
one man. As soon as I get home, I’m
going to pick up that phone and…I stop. Two men emerge out of a dark alleyway and
grin menacingly. I bare my teeth in a
feral sneer and wait for the fun to start.“Pretty girl, you got
what we want tonight.”Their accents are pure
American South and laced with alcohol.
These two are thick as pig’s shit, or so it seems. I settle my hands deeper into the pockets of
my flight jacket and grasp the handle of the switchblade I keep in there. What I wouldn’t give for an old-fashioned
cosh, I think. I grin. “Come on, boys.”They rush at once,
both grabbing for me. I duck and dodge
out of the way, pulling my blade from my pocket and springing it open. They see the glint of steel, and pause just
a minute before reaching for me again.
I twist around one, slashing at his arm. I feel the blade catch flesh, and it takes a few seconds for the
first man to react. He lets out a howl
of pain, clutching at his sliced arm. I
grin and motion to the second bloke. He
continues to hesitate, looking from his bleeding friend to me.“Come on, love,” I
taunt. “I’m just one woman with a
blade. What can I do?” I grin wickedly, waiting for the
confrontation to continue.Come on, Jack,” says
the one who is not spilling his blood onto the pavement. “It’s not worth it.”“The hell it’s not!”
says the man named Jack. “That little bitch
cut me!”The knife itches in my
hands. I could easily stick it deep
between their ribs, but a murder is not on my mind tonight. I am about to put my knife away when the
bleeding man rushes at me, catching me with a
sharp blow to my jaw.I see stars and
stumble, but I do not fall. The knife
is right back in my hand, and when he comes for me again I am ready. As he swings one more time, I dunk under his
arm and come up to face him, slashing at his face with the sharp blade. I catch him twice, once right above his left
eye, and again on his cheek. He howls
in pain, his hands going instinctively for his face. As he clutches his mutilated cheek, I lash out with my foot,
kicking hard in the bollocks. He drops
like a stone, one hand clutching his damaged balls, and the other over his
bleeding face.His friend stands
there, breathing hard. I’m blowing
myself, but my blood’s up and all I can see is red. I deliver a few more blows of a hard-booted foot to the body on
the ground, but if there’s one thing I’ve found out it’s that kicking a man
while he’s down is never as satisfying as putting him to the earth.“C-come on,
Jack.” The man’s friend is near
hysterics. “Get up, man. We gotta get you to a hospital.” The man called Jack continues laying on the
ground, moaning. “Come on! We’re gonna get arrested for attempted
rape. Come on, dude!”I lean down and wipe
by bloody knife on one of the legs of the bleeding man’s pants. “There’s one a few blocks from here,” I say
as I slip my blade back into my jacket pocket.
I feel calmer, but my body is still high on the adrenaline of a good
fight. “Maybe you boys should learn
that us British birds are tough. I
wouldn’t recommend trying this again.”
I look up at Jack’s friend. “If
I see you in this neighborhood once more, I don’t care who’s going to be
watching. If my knife doesn’t get you,
my .45 will.”I stand and shake my
head at the man on the ground, who by this time was struggling to rise. I spit, and deliver one last kick to his
belly. He falls again, his maimed face
resting against the ground. His blood
is black and shiny in the glare of a far-off streetlamp.When I reach the
corner, I turn back. The men are
arm-in-arm, the man called Jack whose face I had just ruined leaning heavily on
his uninjured companion. It’s
nothing a little plastic surgery can’t fix, I think as I shove my hands in
my pockets and head for home.When I reach my flat,
I sigh as I climb the outdoor stairs that lead to another entrance. This one opens off the kitchen, and the
minute I’m inside I shut my door and mix myself another drink. I curse as I realize I am out of club soda,
but straight Scotch is better than none at all. I sip my drink, my eyes tearing up as I feel the liquor hit my
stomach. I had been a bit drunk when I
left the pub, but the suddenness and urgency of my plight had diminished the
tipsiness. No man would ever have his
way with me if I did not consent. He
would have to kill me first.Pauline’s advice
suddenly comes back to me. I set my
Scotch down and reach for the phone. As
I dial Boris’ number, I wonder about the reality of the situation. This was dangerous territory, but I am too
high on blood and violence to think.The phone continues to
ring, and my call is answered by a beep.
The bastard wasn’t home. I take
a deep breath.“Boris, this is
Shopgirl. In case you’re wondering why
I’m phoning so late, here it is: you’re not getting your damn money. I am a grown goddamned woman who lives in a
completely different section of the city.
My trade in no way affects yours.
So fuck off, and goodnight.”I slam the receiver
down, my hands shaking. What have I
just done? My heart twists as I
finally realize the severity of this situation, but what I did cannot be
changed. It is a part of the past
now. I take a deep breath and pick up
my drink.I pull a cigarette out
of the pack on top of the refrigerator, and open my kitchen door. I continue to shake as I sit on the stairs
outside, the outlines of my body blurred by darkness. I watch a few Londoners stumble home, and one of them waves. I raise my drink back to him, and then gulp
it down. I gag; I’ve never been able to
drink straight Scotch like that, but a pull of the cigarette calms my insides.I feel the liquor
spreading through me, relaxing my muscles and dulling my mind. It is nearly midnight, and tomorrow is my
day off. I need a shower and a good
long rest, I think, worrying about Boris.
Oh well. It can be undone on
Monday.I stretch and carry my
empty glass inside. There, I turn off
the lights and head to the bathroom, not even remembering to lock the door to
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