"I know it's not my plane. It's my sister's plane."

"Yes sir and Miss Tara said that-"

"Well, unless you've talked to her in the last few minutes, then I'm giving you an update on what she wants. And what she wants is for my guests and I to take off as soon as fucking possible."

"Very well sir, let me just call and confirm-"

Gavin grabbed the man's tie and pulled him in close, staring him in the eyes with a mixture of determination and exasperation.

"You know who I am. Get me in the fucking air now or I'm going to knock you out and fly this thing myself."

"Do you... do you know how to fly, sir?"

"No."

"Then how-?"

"I'll crash it. And die. And break the plane. Would you rather inform 'Miss Tara' about that?"

The pilot sighed and shook his head. Gavin turned to @Isabella-Luciano and beamed.

"And we're golden."

***

A few minutes later, the five of them were on the plane: the pilot, Bella, her two bodyguards, and Gavin. 

Gavin had the two bodyguards sit in the individual seats up near the cockpit with the pilot. He and Bella were in the back of the plane, where they are least had a little privacy from sight, if not from sound. Plopping into the seat next to her, Gavin grinned. In a few moments, they were airborne. Gavin leaned against Bella as the plane took off, breaking through the clouds and heading north.

"You have a way with pilots."  She said as they finally leveled out and seemed to be cruising.  "Would you have done it?  Tried to fly?"  She laughed.  "Cause... I'm not sure if you're aware but I do have something of a reputation and nickname from my youth which might have made me inclined to have joined you in such a misadventure."

"If you got a swing of something strong I might be encouraged to tell you the nickname and how I got it."

Gavin moved immediately, reaching over to a compartment near him and popping it open. Parachutes. Life vests. Inflatable raft. Food. And there it was, right where he left it: a bottle of the finest whiskey from the East Cat Cellars. He returned to his previous position, offering Bella the bottle first.

"How could I refuse an offer like that? And no, I wouldn't have. That'd basically be guaranteed suicide, and while I don't mind being reckless for a good cause, I'm having too much fun to want it to end. Can you fly? Because I'm totally okay with throwing this guy off the plane if you can. I'd give him a parachute and everything."

She laughed and took a swig of the whiskey, "Hot Rod.  They called me Hot Rod Luciano the summer I turned 13 when I stole a car and took all my school friends and 8 year old Elie for our first joy ride.  I'm ... addicted to speed they say."  She smirked.  "I like going fast."  She laughed again and took another drink.

"Seriously though... I can only imagine what you must be thinking about my motives in jumping on a plane with a guy I didn't know before this morning.  Traveling to another country with you... CLEARLY intending on ..." she brushed her finger along Gavin's forearm.  "To have a good time.  It's a bit shameless.  I hope that whatever opinion of me you're forming isn't going to ruin my attempts at a bright future on Race Street Pier when I get home and have to do business with your sister and Jack Mezzo?"

Gavin's laugh filled the plane as he slapped not his own knee, but Bella's. 

"God. Fuckin' hilarious. 13 year old Hot Rod Luciano. I know you'll be shocked, but I like going fast myself, too."

He leaned back in his seat, draping an arm around Bella. His other arm borrowed the bottle, taking a long pull from it before returning it to her.

"Although I can't figure out whether that's funnier than the idea of anything with me affecting your financial future."

His chuckles faded as he spoke a bit more seriously.

"Shameless is a good word for it. I like that word. You know how wants you to feel shame? Other people. Especially religious ones. They want you to think that you have to do things their way Or Fucking Else. I've met a lot of people like that in my life, telling me things I'm not supposed to do."

Gavin borrowed the bottle again, toasting his conquered foes.

"And here I am, still doing what I want. And when I kick the bucket someday, am I going to be looking back wishing "well shit, I guess I should have done what other people wanted, and not myself?"

He shook his head.

"I live in the moment. Life's too short not to. Do what makes you feel good, and figure out the future if it ever arrives. That's my read, anyways."

He shrugged.

"So I can't figure how anything you're doing could possibly effect your future on Race Street, unless you're planning on wacking me. But why even worry about that? Or my opinion of you?"

Gavin leaned toward her and grinned.

"Would you like to know my opinion of you? Although I have to warn you, it's easier to show you than tell you."

After speaking, his eyes flicked forward to the bodyguards.

"Although- what's the deal with these guys? They supposed to just stick close to you and keep everything they see to themselves?"

"That's the idea now."   She said with no small amount of annoyance.  "Before they both had wagging tongues to my father about a night out with a man I had recently.  I wasn't pleased with their lack of understanding of Omerta... so I offered them a choice.  Fix the problem or I would.  These two were the smart ones.  The other two are sleeping in Lake Michigan.  Damn shame.  I liked them."

"I promised my father I would keep them with me... he says as a Don I gotta stop taking stupid risks.  Wants me under protection 24/7 and by protection he means guys who aren't trying to... show me a good time."  She winked. 

"In fact, it would be best for your safety if you NEVER let anyone know we did this.  My father takes it very personally when a guy wants to spend time with me but doesn't ask his okay first.  He feels it's a major sign of disrespect.  So... if you like to live dangerously, I promise you, time spent with me is one hell of a way to do it."  She winks.

She leaned in, "So ... what ARE you thinking about me?"

Gavin raised an eyebrow when the topic of sleeping with the fishes came up. Seems like these two could be trusted to stay silent, even if slicing off someone's tongue didn't stop them from writing. Gavin grinned.

"Trying to scare me off? I'm sure you could get me killed if I hurt you, but I intend to do exactly the opposite. And hey, I won't go advertising anything... and Montreal is pretty damn far from Detroit... but I'd rather throw myself off the plane than live according to someone else's rules when I disagree with them. The way I see it, you're your own woman."

Gavin leaned closer to Bella.

"I've live my whole life dangerously, and I don't intend to stop now. Maybe you need a little more danger in your life, Hot Rod. Or at least more fun."

With a grin, he leaned in and kissed her. Gently at first, giving them both time to grow comfortable with each other, even as he deftly unbuckled his seatbelt to make it easier to reach her. Their tongues made soft, light, exploratory ventures that slowly built up a rhythm. At one point, Gavin saw one of the bodyguards start to turn around, but the other one stopped him from even looking. He dropped a hand on Bella's knee, occasionally sliding it forward on the outside of her thigh. After several minutes, he slid his mouth to the side, leaving a trail of kisses down to her neck, where he stayed for a while, occasionally speaking a low word.

"This... is what... I'm thinking... for now..."

His blue eyes shining, he returned to to her mouth.

The allure of Gavin wasn't clear to Isabella.  On so many levels she hated herself for this because it felt like a betrayal of Elias' memory, but that was silly and her logical mind admonished her for such self punishment.  The truth was simple.  If she could burn the ache for a dead man out of her mind and out of her body, then perhaps it wouldn't torment her heart so? 

She arched her back, pushing herself forward fully into Gavin's grasp as he kissed upon her neck just the way she so enjoyed.  Fear and anticipation mixed with guilt and desire to create a befuddled sort of feeling in her head and heart.  It hurt, so bad, and she wanted to lose herself in the base emotion that Gavin seemed to entice out of her with a practiced ease.  

His flirtatious words and the way he slid his hand up her thigh caused her breathing to become heavy and her body to squirm in her seat beneath his touch.  Nerve endings felt like fireworks exploding.  "I like this." She breathed, noting Joey stopping Nails from looking back.  The old man might keep the boy alive after all.  She was glad she hadn't read that situation wrong.  If they didn't see her getting frisky with a guy, they had nothing to report.

She wondered if he was using her as much as she was using him.  Would he care if he knew?  She supposed not.  He seemed like he didn't care and at the same time that made her a little sad.  How messed up did a guy have to be that she could use him as if he wasn't a person at all and it didn't matter to him?  Especially like this?  Had he ever known anything real?  Had ever felt what Elias felt for her?  She kissed Gavin's lips and struggled not to cry at the thought.  Cry for him.  Cry for her and for Elias... poor dead Elias.

Her hands touch the side of his face while she kisses him, her mind thinking about his words about living in the moment and not regretting.  Her mind couldn't help but drift back to the shore that night when she'd wanted to run away with Elias, the night she'd first told him she loved him.  She was ready to turn her back on it all for him and if she had, if they had done as Gavin's philosophy had said... he might still be here.

She pulled away from his kiss then.  She steadied herself before speaking, "I've been through some shit."  She said softly, for his ears alone.  "I suspect you don't care about that, but..." 

His wandering hands caught her off guard and made her nearly lose her train of thought.  "I couldn't face myself tomorrow if I didn't ..."  She kissed him again.  There was this magnetic pull he seemed to have, a paramour whose gravitational pull  she couldn't (and didn't want to) escape.  

Gavin's was living entirely in the moment, blocking out everything in the universe except himself, Bella, and the space between them. One hand started to move towards her hair, and he was tempted to try to let it down for her... but well, that just looked too damn complicated. And Gavin had a rule: when you were actively kissing someone, don't try anything too complicated. Resting a hand on the back of her neck, he surrendered entirely to a primal lust.

Well, not entirely. He suspected that if he and Isabella both fully let loose, they'd crash the plane through extremely pleasant turbulence.

Even as he kissed, Isabella, he noticed a strange, almost tidal pull occurring with her. For a few moments, she'd throw herself into the physical act... and then almost freeze, as if she was listening for something. Gavin suspected that it was more likely her thoughts getting in the way of things. When she pulled away, he didn't fight it.

"I've been through some shit. I suspect you don't care about that, but... I couldn't face myself tomorrow if I didn't..."

Then she leaned forward, kissing him again. He was tempted to continue, to keep kissing her and have her swallow her words. Would that be better for her? 

Instead, he leaned back and looked at her with a small smile.

"I'm not going to tell you that I'm in no rush, Bella, but we've got a little while longer before we land. And maybe it's better this way. I do intend on making you yell, and there's only so many things these two fellas can pretend to ignore."

"And... seems clear that there's stuff you feel like you'd rather talk about. Clear out your mind before we paint the town red? Make sure I know the score about something?"

He took her hand, and his thumb traced a pattern on her palm.

"And look. I'm not a particularly kind person, but I've been through some shit too, ya know? Maybe we're well matched in that sense. I can't promise you anything, but if there's stuff you feel like you need to say, I'm here. And barring a parachute, I'm not goin' anywhere. So hit me with what you want to. We'll talk. And then we'll land and I'll buy you a drink or four at McKibbin's."

Gavin settled back in his seat, ready to listen- even as he tried to quell the remnants of his lust. He wanted to have fun on this trip, and he strongly suspected that a distracted Isabella would never quite be able to throw her head back and bare her teeth the way he wanted her to. Perhaps even the way she wanted to.

Isabella opened her purse and pulled out Elias' grandmother's ring and showed it to Gavin.  For a moment the ring was the only explanation.  The family heirloom was clearly a wedding band, it's beautiful diamond and sapphires would have fetched a pretty penny if she'd been so inclined; but she never would do that.  This was all she had left of Elias now.

She could almost see Nails moving again out of the corner of her eye.  The boy wanted to pull her into a hug anytime Elias came up.  Sometimes it seemed he was more tore up over Elias' death than she was.  He hated knowing how heart sore she was and she suspected that, more than anything else, was the reason he'd gone to her father.  He worried she was making a huge mistake in New York and likely he had the same fear now though she'd taken things further with Gavin than she had with Will who had been the definition of a gentleman.  Well, aside from busting her lip... but that was a longer story really and not so black and white.

"Elias Landucci.  Though, he wished to be called by my Father's last name because he was so devoted to him.  Elias Luciano."  She said his name like she'd spoke his name with reverence and devotion that could not be concealed.  "I still love him ... so very much... but he's..." She looked to the side, using that to push away any moisture growing in her eyes.  No man wanted to kiss a girl while she cried. 

"He's dead now."  she swallowed.  That wasn't so hard, was it?  "I'm mourning and that's messy.  Grief makes you stupid.  I've been reckless and I've gotten people I care about hurt.  I've put myself in danger trying to ... I don't know... feel something?  To feel nothing?  I thought revenge would help."  She shook her head.  

"Alcohol.  Drugs.  Fuck I even tried to get myself hurt thinking maybe..."  She shook her head.  She put the ring away and reached over to take Gavin's hand.  "So when you said what you did about living in the moment... all I kept thinking about was how Elias and I waited.  We waited for everything to be right and in the meantime we caught bullets and he eventually ... and it just pissed me off.  It feels like such a damn waste!"  She said that with more anger than she meant to share. 

She steadied herself.  "So when you offered Canada, time away, and... this... it seemed like the way to forget it for a while.  Maybe sleep good for once without having to drink myself into oblivion to get it."  She swallowed the lump in her throat.  "He didn't die easy... and, fuck... I don't know.  It's not the sort of thing you normally tell to the guy you're hoping to be intimate with.  No guy wants to hear about the other man or how you still love him... or all the shit you carry because of how he went down."

She looked down at her stomach.  She considered a moment that she should say something about the scars.  How would he react?  He said he had scars... but its' different when it's your own.  It's different when you're the man.  No one looked at a man with scars and thought him ugly... just tough.  A woman with scars... perhaps he wouldn't be so eager when he found her mangled midsection?  

She considered it... but in the end she couldn't find the words.  Her passion that had been flaring a moment ago died with thoughts of how he'd react as he pulled her dress off.  Or what he might be thinking now knowing she was sitting here missing a dead man while he was trying to please her so much.

"There's more... so much more rattling around my head, but I have a hard time putting some of it words.  Maybe it's better seen than spoke of, I suppose.  I'll try to explain as best I can when we come to that bridge and either you'll still want to spend time with me... or you won't."  She gave a dry chuckle.  "I'm sorry if I'm messing this up."

Gavin leaned back in his seat, listening intently with a furrowed brow. This was probably the most serious conversation he'd had in... well, he couldn't rightly remember. Ever? He was in uncharted waters, but he didn't seem particularly uncomfortable.

The ring was impressive. Gavin looked at it as she told her story, not wanting to throw Bella off by making eye contact. She'd loved the man; there was no doubt about that. 

"Mourning" was a strange concept. He'd been devastated when his mother died, but his elation at finally being away from his father and his exhaustion at having to provide for both himself and Tara at 15 hadn't given him much space for processing. If 'processing' like that was even something he was capable of. For a fleeting moment, he thought about the trail of bodies he'd left behind him since he and Tara had strolled into Philadelphia as precocious, ambitious twenty year olds. Most people were horrible, but how many of them left someone like Bella behind?

What a shitty world.

"Yea, you've been through some shit. I'm sorry you have, for what it's worth- which I'm sure is very little. Look, Bella. If you were trying to like... find the worst possible person to talk to about emotions... I'm pretty much that guy. Usually at this point I'd get Tara in here. She's better at this stuff. But maybe we're not so different. And I'm literally all you've got right now, since one guy is flying the plane and the other two don't have tongues. So here's what I've got."

He bit his lip, thinking of how to proceed. He was quiet for a while.

"I think the past is a sort of a weapon. For many people, they use that weapon for their own benefit. It's gives them power, authority, a sense of purpose or peace. What they've been through amplifies who they are, and their past helps them. It's always right there with them, propping them up when things get tough."

"But for other people, it's a weapon used against them, constantly cutting them down or holding them back. Their past prevents them from doing things they should, and hamstrings them when they're not expecting it."

"Right now, you seem more like the latter. If the past is a knife, I don't think you're using it like a tool or a weapon to help you; I think you're constantly running into it and hurting yourself."

"I'm not telling you to forget your love and move on forever. You're not that type. Here's what I'm offering to you: try to put down that knife for a few days.  Live in the present. Have fun. Let's go wild and make sure they'll remember us in this town 20 years from now. Maybe we'll stay in the city, maybe we'll get a little place in the ass end of nowhere out in the woods. I dunno, we'll figure it out. Just cut loose, and stop being so hard on yourself- not forever, but for a little while.  Forgive yourself enough to give yourself a few days of bliss, and then when you have to, you can pick up the knife again- maybe by the handle, instead of the blade."

He grinned.

"And I promise I'll show you a good enough time that you'll remember it in twenty years."

Gavin paused, letting his arm drape around Bella again in an easygoing fashion. He had no idea if what he'd said would help, but he did know he gave it his best shot, so he was content.

"I dunno. What do you think? And any other heavy stuff you want to talk about? I'm game, if you'd like to just get anything out."

"I want to put the knife down."  She admitted.  "It's why I jumped at the chance to come with you... but... there is one other thing that I need to know you're okay with first."

Isabella unfastened her belt and turned in her seat towards Gavin.  Taking his hand she brought it towards her body and the form fitting silky black dress she'd been wearing this evening.  In the way she moved it might have been taken as an overtly sexual act, an invitation to explore her body, but Isabella had a purpose in doing as she did. 

She took his hand and laid his palm flat against her rib cage on the right side where the bullet had taken her at her father's house and from that scar, she moved down across a field of scars that had left her dead for a few moments on a doctor's operating table and that only the hand of God himself had spared her from falling to.

"There's more to me than I let people see."  Her eyes washed across his expressions and body language like a bodyguard looking for an unseen gun.  Her doe-like eyes were filled with, in a word, fear. 

"Some people don't have a stomach for it but,"  She was watching his facial expressions intently, waiting to see even a hint of disgust or even a mild distaste that he might show.  "I have my scars too." 

Gavin's eyebrow arched as Bella picked up his hand and put it on her. She obviously seemed upset about her scars. It didn't surprise him. Beautiful women tended to take that sort of thing very seriously- even subconsciously, they got used to people judging them and valuing them based on their appearance. As he felt the scars, his only reaction was a reassuring smile. He wasn't happy, but he wanted her to know that she had nothing to worry about. 

Immediately shrugging off his jacket, he unbuttoned his dress shirt and tossed that on the back of the empty seat in front of them.

His shoulders, chest, back, and upper arms were a patchwork of old scars. The higher up on his body, the more old wounds there were; most of them had been caused by an adult man reaching down and cutting a boy to teach him a lesson. He was in good shape; far from an Olympic athlete, but fit enough where he wouldn't have looked out of place in any army in the last few thousand years. He was a warrior. The older scars might have made him a victim, but there were plenty of newer scars as well. 

Leaning back in his seat, naked from the waist up, Gavin smirked.

"I know this is important to you... but I honestly don't care. If we didn't have these scars, we wouldn't be as strong as we are now. I don't look at these like they make me someone who's broken; this is proof of all the shit I can survive and keep fighting."

He dropped his voice slightly.

"And if you'd like me to prove that I don't have an issue with it, then I'll show you right now... although I do think we're landing soon, and your bodyguards may not be able to ignore the screams once we get going."

She laughed and leaned over, kissing him, letting her hand rest on his scarred chest.  She pulled away from his lips just enough to speak, "Screaming?"  She laughed again.  "So sure of yourself!"  She smirked.  "I'm looking forward to putting you to the test."

She kissed his cheek and kissed towards his ear, "It's weird, but... my father said much the same thing about my scars."  She shakes her head.  "He doesn't seem to think they make me less, even though he damn well knows I can't have children now.  For most guys that's the deal breaker - you know?  It means I'm good for a weekend but not the sort of woman you make a wife out of."  

She looked down at his body.  Her fingers fascinated at how his scars - older ones - were less pronounced and angry feeling under her finger tips where as hers were puffy and pronounced. 

"Maybe I should be okay with being a weekend girl."  She thought aloud.  "May it's not such a bad thing really."

His scars weren't horribly discolored where as some of hers were red and purple looking... as if they still contained blood.  In time perhaps hers would be like his... hard places on her body with little difference than the rest.  Soft to the touch, but firm when tested.  

"It's like... you grew armor."  She said with a touch of wonder.  "As if the places he cut you, you got stronger." 

She looked back up to his eyes.  "I want to see everything.  Just you and me against all of Canada - the city & the wild."  She kissed him.  "I'm yours - no self-wounding daggers.  Take me where ever you want... I want to do it all.  

Gavin looked at Bella with a smile he was intentionally trying to suppress. Yes, he was sure of himself- but he didn't want to blow off something that she thought was important. 

"I can't really guess how serious that whole subject of having children is to you... but honestly, it's the opposite of a deal breaker for me. Besides, why do you want someone to "make a wife out of" you anyways? You're a fuckin' badass who runs a crew, not some princess getting married off for land. Do what you want, take what you want. Have fun before someone pops you in the head."

He finally let the smile break out as she ran her hands across his chest. He'd stopped worry about his scars long ago. They were simply a part of him now. Maybe Bella would get to that point someday as well. As he was about to say something, the pilot announced they were about to start their descent. Gavin looked over at Bella with a smirk. 

"Buckle up. This is going to be fun."

***

A half hour later, they were pulling away from the airport in a rented car. One of the bodyguards was driving, while the other sat in the passenger seat. Unsurprisingly, Gavin had insisted on that arrangement. As they drove, Gavin rested a hand on Bella's knee, drumming out a song with his fingers as he spoke.

"McKibbins is the best Irish pub I know. I'm Irish, technically. My parents and parents were all Irish, just came over to Newfoundland. I did a few jobs here in Montreal to make some money when I was about 21, heading down south with Tara. Made friends with a few of the bartenders here. It's one of the best spots I've been to. We'll have a few drinks, see what happens."

The red sandstone building had been a mansion with a storied history; now, this section of it was the best pub in the city. The mahogany bar gleamed, and light reflected off the dozens of bottles arrayed behind it. A fiddler and banjo player were playing and singing in one corner, and the dozens of people spread out through tables conversing filled the bar with life. The walls, the air, the music, the entire atmosphere seemed to be imbued with the Emerald Isle. Gavin held the door open for Isabella, smiling at the bodyguards behind them.

"So, uh, are you boys going to wait outside? Suppose you can't drink on the job, huh?"

Isabella instantly was taken in by the charm of the pub.  She wasn't Irish and never really had a particular need to go seeking out the culture but stepping into this place made her rethink that stance.  There was something that felt like 'home' about this room.  Something that spoke to her and brought a smile to her face.  She wrapped her arm around Gavin's and gave him a squeeze.  

Around the room she could see a number of things happening, billiards as most places had these days... darts at the back and ... a table of poker?!?  Now, as a general rule, Isabella stayed clear of gambling.  She honestly was the WORST when it came to poker.  She didn't have luck worth shit these days and if she had a good head about her she'd know that the one place in this room she should surely avoid was a table full of card players.  BUT... there was a lot of cash stacked on the table and that was never something she ignored easily.

"Do you... play poker?" She said smiling at Gavin, her face full of mischief.  

Walking back into the bar felt like returning home after a long holiday. Gavin didn't have much of a "home" to speak of, really. He and Tara had burned down the cabin they grew up in, and his apartment in Philadelphia was a shithole he barely spent any time in. Instead, he had a handle of places across the continent where he'd accumulated good memories, and this was one of them.

Gavin headed to the bar first, getting a double glass of whiskey for both himself and Isabella after resisting the urge to get a shot. It was just after dinner time, and the night was young; it was probably better for the pair to pace themselves.

As he handed Bella the dinner, his eyes also wandered over to the poker table. Gavin wasn't an amazing player; he used to call himself excellent, until he'd met a few boys from Texas while spending time in Vegas. Still, he knew he was pretty damn good. With a grin, he nodded and they sat down next to each other. It was a ten man table, although the two of them only made eight. Gavin had raided his safe the night before and stashed cash in just about every pocket he had. Taking a wad of bills and tossing them on the table, he bought in for the both of them.

Time to see who'd get lucky. 

Isabella held her cards in front of her face.  She'd let her hair down, was three drinks in, and the smirk on her face wasn't just because of the pile of money in front of her - it was how easily she was distracting these poor Canadian fools who looked like they hadn't been with a woman in ages.  The one across from her hadn't taken his Emerald eyes off her breasts since she sat down and she'd taken him for close to three hundred dollars so far... and Gavin's pile was larger.

If the table had been glass the men wouldn't have been so eager though.  They would have seen how she was playing with Gavin and that her mind was clearly wrapped up in only what he had to offer.  Her shoe was off of her left foot and she'd been playing with his leg for the last twenty minutes, which really was the only reason she'd managed to stay in the game.  A few distracted hands on Gavin's part had allowed her luck to hold.  

They were running these lumberjacks into the ground and it felt good.  

"Two pair, queen high."  Emerald eyes said.  

The the red head sighed and threw down his cards without showing, he was out by the look of it and he was mad as fuck.  The dark haired fellow however wasn't done yet.  "Two pair, Ace high."  He laughed making Mr. Emerald Eyes very cross.  Izzy had dirt nothing and had been bluffing so put her cards in front of her without a fuss.

"Flush."  Gavin said with a shit eating grin.  He leaned in to take the pot and she leaned forward so her foot went high up his thigh, teasing him as an added bonus.  He shot her a look that strongly suggested she'd best be careful or the night would end too soon.  She gave a faint shrug and moved her foot down.  He then looked a touch disappointed, like a boy who had his favorite toy taken.  She wasn't sure what he wanted... everything she supposed.

"Son of a..."  The black haired fellow shouted slamming his hand down and picking up his glass of whiskey.  These guys were tossing them back, hot and heavy.  

"I should stick to strip poker."  Emerald eyes joked, still eyeing her.  He had another two hundred to go.  Isabella decided they'd bleed him of all of it for his crudeness.  The shit was lucky her father wasn't here.  He'd choke the man to death for such insinuations. Of course, for how Gavin was now playing with HER leg under the table after passing the dealer's chip - he'd do much worse.  Isabella tried to to visibly react but if his toes were to move just a bit higher - she'd be having a VERY good time right now and creating a DANGEROUS a fuss.

Granted... she started it.

"Nothing's wild this time boys."  She said as she shuffled and stole a glance at Gavin who looked as though he might be out for a Sunday stroll for all the focus he was giving to what his foot was doing.  She inhaled and swallowed as the cards landed across the table.  As she put the cards in front of Mr. Emerald Eyes she noticed how he was looking at her... something had changed.  She wondered if he knew what Gavin was up to?  How though?  Had Gavin tapped him under the table?  Given him some signal?  Was she making it obvious?

She looked to Gavin who gave her a subtle wink and the barest hint of a nod and then she saw it.  This was the game.  The REAL game.  The whole table - all of them - knew!  They knew she'd been playing with him and he with her right in front of them!  Perhaps out of perverse pleasure or maybe because they all thought to get something out of it (maybe even win because they were both 'distracted' ...) they had stayed at the table longer than was wise.  Gavin and she were running the whole lot of them and she'd not noticed until this moment.  She had been a clever distraction!  God, but she loved how wicked he was... even if it meant every man in at the table deserved a good ass kicking, most especially Mr. Emerald Eyes.  That man was positively panting!

Her hand was junk, but as Gavin worked his magic and she allowed herself to embrace her role as the distraction she knew she was, she found herself all in on a hand she would surely lose.  It was getting harder to ignore Gavin's ministrations, he was masterful.  Each man put down their cards and incredibly Mr. Emerald Eyes pulled in the pot.  Gavin looked cross and his foot stopped working as it had been.  It was clear Gavin wasn't sure how it was possible the man had won.  The look on his face suggested he suspected cheating.  Izzy, despite her heart racing from another kind of excitement sat up and put her hand on her derringer on her thigh.

Emerald Eyes cackled, "If you want, Sweetie, I can front you some cash."  She was sure that, while he didn't spell it out, he'd be expecting something for that 'generous' donation.

Gavin sipped his drink, pretending to think about whether he should call or not. For this particular hand, he'd milk his opponents for all they were worth. A few of the men were checking out Bella, but he was too so it was hard to be too critical of them. 

When Bella had slipped out of her shoe and started rubbing her foot against his leg, he might have been more than a little distracted himself. At least he returned the favor.

He grinned as he collected his chips. The world may be shitty, but sometimes things just clicked into place. And speaking of things clicking into place, Bella certainly seemed to be enjoying herself.

At least until that particularly interesting hand there... hmm. Was the guy really that lucky? Or was he cheating? He'd keep a closer eye and catch him next time, if so.

"If you want, Sweetie, I can front you some cash." 

Gavin waved off the man's statement.

"She's fine. I've got a bulge in my pants, and it's not just because I'm excited to see her."

With a grin, Gavin pulled out a large stack of bills and handed them to Bella- enough to buy in again. They were still up, combined, but Gavin wasn't particularly interested in the game financially. He was in it for the thrill. These boys had a whole paycheck on the table, whereas Gavin had considerably more in each one of his pockets.

"Deal the cards."

Isabella bought into the game and the cards came around, this time the black haired man was dealing.  He occasionally glanced at Isabella and he, she suspected, might realize what was happening under the table by the movement beside him since he was to her immediate left.  It seemed probable.  

He said nothing though, just kept watching her and as the game resumed so did Gavin's foot.  It was harder now to allow herself to flaunt her thrills - though she knew those moments his actions caused her to visually react were moments when Gavin got his best read on the group.  She kept her focus on the game as much as she could.  She had a pair of threes.  Not much else.  It was alright, but not a winning hand the way things were going so far.  Still, she bet on it.  She figured if nothing else she was driving up the pot for Gavin.

The radio was playing, ironically, 'Live from the Blackhawk' which was her restaurant in Detroit.  Benny Goodman was still in town so when 'Sing, Sing, Sing' came on she couldn't help but dance in her chair a bit.  The black haired man took another drink, looked at her again, and pushed forward a bit more cash than he'd been laying out thus far tonight.  She was sure he must have a good hand, he'd been so cautious all night long.  She looked to Gavin who was keeping a cool face, but his eyes seemed to occasionally drift left to Mr. Emerald Eyes.  What was going on there she couldn't be sure.

"I fold."  The Scandinavian said at the first round of raises.  He stood up and tipped his hat, "Gentlemen, it's been a treat giving you my cash tonight... Miss Luciano, thanks for adding a bit of class to what's usually a real dull affair."

She smiled at the man whose accent was so thick he had to be a first generation.  "Good to meet you too, Albert.  If you're ever in Detroit, look me up."

"Doubtful, Miss, but I will do that if I am."  And just like that the table was down to five men and one woman.  Mr. Emerald Eyes, The Red Head, The Black Haired Man, Gavin, and the funny looking fellow with the strange tattoo near his eye who Gavin had been watching closest earlier but seemed to have relaxed about at some point during the game play as he seemed... the least interested in anything or anyone other than his alcohol despite losing more than all the other men combined.  Only she, Isabella, had lost more than Mr. Tattoo.

Black Hair leaned over to her and whispered, "He your guy?"  He indicated with a nod towards Gavin.

Isabella smiled and leaned over to whisper back, "He's not Mr. Right... but he is Mr. Right Now."  She winked.  It was flirtatious, but that was the point.  If they were day dreaming about her, then they'd mess up their hands and Black Hair had a good one to be sure... he was clearly feeling a bit more self-assured as he raised on the next turn about the table.

Isabella folded and leaned back in her seat to sip her gin.

She watched as Gavin very pointedly narrowed his eyes at the Red Head.  Something was happening there because she felt his foot pull away from her leg and did not return.  She reached for the bottle and poured herself some more gin, nice and slow and she watched as folks laid their hands down. 

One after another it was as she expected.  Tattoo had nothing.  Gavin was trounced with an Ace high cause Mr. Black Hair had it all night long with three aces which was why it absolutely stunned the whole table to see a fifth ace appear in the hand of the Red Head, causing him to have a winning role flush.

"CHEATER!" Tattoo snapped, as he rose from his chair

"FUCKING CHEAT!"  The table flew up and over spilling cards and money everywhere.  The room instantly became an absolute madhouse. Gavin was a blur, on the red head like nothing she'd ever seen before!  Tattoo backed away from the table with a fist full of money.  She expected Black Hair to jump the Red Head along with Gavin, but instead she found herself pulled into his arms and a knife put to her throat. THE HAD BEEN WORKING TOGETHER?!?  Her eyes went wide as Black Hair snapped at Gavin to get him to stop from... well, from whatever he was about to do to the Red Head.

"LET GO YOU FUCKING MICK!"

As Gavin looked up, Isabella swung the gin bottle up over her shoulder and smashed Mr. Black Hair right in the face with it - a wild spray of red came over her shoulder and the man fell away screaming.  The knife went to the ground and she went after it.  The fight, which had been a single table of men, had somehow become the whole damn tavern and Izzy was NOT going to let a good knife go to waste when God alone knew if anyone else would be dumb enough to fuck with her.