Lost & Found: Shattered | By : kmcracerx Category: G through L > Lost Boys Views: 1749 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost Boys, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Lost
and Found: Shattered
Author’s note: This story takes place in the “Lost and
Found” universe, centering on Dwayne and Cora.
We start six years after the end of L&F. Again, this one will be a little on the
darker side. So, be forewarned. And now…
On with the show…
Chapter
One
She looked across
the bar. Looked through the smoke and
flashing lights. Hot, sweat slicked
bodies writhed en masse on the dance floor as the bass beat of Evanescence, Nine
Inch Nails and Rob Zombie vibrated through the floor to her feet. She tipped her head back, feeling the hair in
her high pony tail brush over her back.
Tilting her head to the side, she felt the crack.
“Ahhh! Much better.”
Stepping back up to the bar, she took the next man’s order.
It
was Friday night. The bar’s biggest
night of the week. The bar always had a
crowd of people wearing black leather, studded collars and mesh shirts, but Friday
brought a more diverse patrons. On
Fridays, the resident Goth’s mixed with your average party boys and girls who
thought it would be fun to walk on the dark side.
But
Friday night also had another attraction.
It had her. She was the most popular bartender, not only
in the bar itself, or in West Hollywood, but in the greater Los Angeles area. People came from as far as San Diego just to
buy a drink mixed by her. She was
magnetic. Her dark beauty and petite
body were the only rivaled by her pouring skills, and her outfits.
Clad
in black and red leather, she pulled the customers in. Black leather hot pants that laced in the
front hugged her like a second skin.
They rode low, and red flames licked suggestively up the ties in front,
matching her New Rock Boots. Fishnet
stockings covered her shapely legs. Her
corset top accentuated her tiny waist and full bosom. The red and black leather was laced tight,
forcing her breasts up. The twin globes
spilled dangerously over the top, but were never completely revealed. To complete her outfit, she wore the same
thing she did every night: a two-inch
studded bondage collar at her throat and matching three-inch cuffs on her
wrists.
Flipping
and flaring bottles and never missing the catch, she poured heavy and took care
of her customers. People wrapped her bar
five, sometimes even ten deep. Tonight
was closer to ten. She was the bar’s
most prized possession, and its secret weapon.
Not only was she beautiful, and the best damned bartender, period, but
she could whoop some ass, too. The
bouncers all loved her and teased her about her ass-kicking abilities, and
although they were loath to allow her to get involved in a drunken bar fight,
they knew she could handle a few sloppy, testosterone-filled drunks.
Flirting
with and teasing her regular customers as the music blended seamlessly into
Stabbing Westward, she didn’t see the two blondes forcing their way through the
crowd to the bar. Taking an order, she
turned and grabbed the bright green bottle.
Flipping it high into the air, she turned the other way to grab a glass,
a sugar cube and a spoon. Glancing up,
she froze mid-reach, meeting the two new comers’ eyes. Forgotten, the bottle of imported Absinthe
that she tossed dropped and smashed on the floor.
“Shit!” Snapping out of her shock, she took note of
the shattered bottle and the green puddle spreading on the floor.
“You
alright?” Another bartender yelled over
the pounding music, concerned. She just
didn’t do that sort of thing. She never dropped anything.
“Yeah.” She noticed his face, concern written all
over it. “There goes my record…” She half-heartedly joked.
Looking
back to the two blondes at the bar, she nodded to the roped off hallway to the
side of the bar. She knew they weren’t
here for just a friendly visit.
“I’ll
get this cleaned up, and then I’m gonna take a break…”
“Don’t
worry about it. I’ll get it… you go take
a breather. It’s been a long night.” He studied her face, trying to get a read on
her.
“Okay. Thanks, bud.”
Apologizing
to her regulars, she locked her register down and slipped out from behind the
bar, stepping over the broken glass, and stalked over to the roped off hallway. The blondes, having moved to the other side
of the bar, followed as the she told the bouncer to let them through. Passing the door to the VIP rooms, she opened
the office. Stepping inside, she shut
the door after the two blondes entered.
“I
assume this isn’t a social call…” She
dropped her head, took a fortifying breath and turned to face them.
“No.” Paul shook his head.
“You
look good, Cora.” Marko, always the peace maker.
“Thanks. So do you.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Taking in their morose expressions, she started to get anxious. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a
bar full of customers waiting for me. Why
are you here?”
After
a moment of silence, Marko gathered his courage first. “We need you to come with us. To come home…”
“Are you kidding me? Go back?
You’ve got to be fucking joking, right?”
Marko lifted his hands with a calming gesture.
“Cora,
just listen…”
“No! There’s no way in Hell I’d go back. Not for anything.” Cora tried to hold back the emotions
threatening to break free. She worked so
hard to contain it all, block the memories and the pain from her mind.
“Cora,
you have to. You’re the only one. We’re not leaving without you…” Paul reached
for her arm, getting frustrated. She was
obviously hurting, and he didn’t know how to make it better for her, didn’t
know how to get her to see.
“NO!”
She wrenched her arm away and wheeled around on them. “You can’t just come here and demand that I go
back. How dare you? After everything that …” She broke off and shook her head. “My life is here, now. Why the fuck would I want to go back? There’s nothing for me there…” Her words grew
softer as the tears welled.
“He’s
dying, Cora…” Hurt by her implication
that they meant nothing to her, Paul’s words were a whispered plea. Her head snapped up, tears finally tracking
down her face, running her black eye make-up.
“What?!?” A breath left her, as if an industrial vacuum
cleaner sucked it out of her lungs.
“Dwayne. He’s dying.
Old Man Emerson sent us here, to bring you back… to say…” Goodbye. “David stayed back, to watch over him. It’s not good, Cora.” Marko started to
explain. “He’s not feeding. Went into a rage for a couple months after
you left. He left the house and started
staying back at the cave. Hasn’t gone
out to feed since. He wasn’t the same
after…” Marko shook his head gestured
with his hands. Paul murmured his
agreement.
“He
fell into a coma two weeks ago. The old
man still refused to tell us where you were.
He knew you needed your space, I guess.
But then, even comatose, Dwayne refused to let anyone near him… to feed
him… Now, even the old man thinks you should come home.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “We wouldn’t be here if we thought there was
any other way.” Cora’s heart
clenched. “He’s been calling your name
in his sleep, even crying for you to come back.
We don’t want to make you feel guilty about leaving. Hell, I’d have done the same thing. But, you’re our last hope, the only one who
can possibly get through to him. To
bring him back, or…”
“Or what?” Her breath caught in her throat.
“…
To either bring him back from the edge… or to ease his passing…” Paul caught her as she sobbed and her knees
buckled. He carried her over to one of
the overstuffed office chairs, and set her down in it. Paul knelt in front of her as Marko leaned on
the arm of the chair, stroking her hair.
“How
long?” She sniffled and drew her legs up
and after wiping at her tears, wrapped her arms around her knees. She curled into herself as much as the
stiffly boned corset would allow.
“Don’t
know. He could recover tomorrow, or we
could already be too late.”
“He
needs you, babe.” Marko fell right into
the old, comfortable endearments, with a hand on her shoulder. “We need you.” He leaned down to kiss the top of her
head. No one spoke for several
minutes. Marko and Paul watched Cora as
she stared at a spot on the carpet. A
muscle in her jaw twitched and she bit the inside of her lip.
How could you not know? You should’ve felt it, if he’s in that bad of
shape. She rubbed her leather clad
wrists, arguing with herself. But, they’re not lying. You can feel that. Oh, God.
What am I going to do? …He needs
you… but he hurt you, ripped your heart out.
Can’t let him do it again… But,
he needs you. He’s dying… He gave a small nod, and the Boys let out a
breath. “But, I’m not… I can’t promise
how long I’ll stay...”
“That’s
okay. Just you being there will ease
him.” Marko stroked her hair again.
“We
know there’s pain there. We’ll just take
it one step at a time.”
Cora
unwrapped her arms and put her feet on the floor. “Okay…”
Standing, she felt lost. “Okay,
I-I have to let my boss know.” Standing,
she walked over to the desk and called the bar’s owner. Even though it was twelve thirty, she knew he
was awake. Claiming a family emergency,
she told him she wouldn’t be able to work for a little while. Maybe a week, maybe a month.
“It’s
okay, Cora. Take all the time you
need. You’ve been a godsend. And you’ll always have a spot at my
bar.” And at my vein, should you ever want.
Although he left the last past unspoken, she knew that’s what he
meant. She hadn’t taken his blood
directly from the vein, but he’d wanted her to, practically begged her to. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine…” She hoped he wouldn’t call her on that lie. “Listen, Marcus. Thanks… for everything. I owe you.
Big.”
“I
know. And someday, I might actually call
to collect.” She could hear his smile in
his voice, and they disconnected.
She
ran her hands over her hair that was slicked back into a severe pony tail, and
blew out a breath. “Okay. I’ll grab my stuff. I want to go home and change, and then we can
go.” She led them out the back into the
alley. From there, they followed her to
her place as she streaked through the city, moving too fast for mortals to see.
“I
just need to grab some clothes…” Cora stumbled into her room, duffle bag in
hand. She randomly grabbed whatever was
on the top of her drawers and stuffed the clothes in, not bothering with trying
to keep things neat. She zippered the
bag shut, and through it next to the front door.
“Give
me minute.” She held out a restraining
hand to stop Marko from picking up her bag.
He stopped and turned to watch her retreat into the bathroom, shutting
and locking the door behind her. It was
all Paul and Marko could do to not break down the door and ease her muffled
sobs. The water turned on, and then
off. Cora stepped out of the bathroom,
face still damp.
“Okay,
let’s go.”
“You
wanna leave a note or anything for your roommate?” Paul asked, recognizing the masculine touches
to the spacious two-bedroom apartment.
“No,
I already talked to him. Called him from
the bar.”
“I thought you called your
boss.”
“Yeah,
I live with him.” The look she threw at
them gave them no leave to question.
“Alright,
then.” Marko picked up her bag, looking
to Paul with weary eyes. “The sun’ll be
up in a couple hours. That gives us just
enough time to fly back without getting toasty.” He winked at her, trying to lighten the
mood. It didn’t work, though she appreciated
his effort.
“Ladies’
first.” Paul couldn’t help but add his
cheeky humor.
“Yeah.” She gave a weak smile. She wasn’t sure if she was reassuring them,
or herself. “Let’s jet.”
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