The Last shift of civilian ship

Birth name Freyja Greta Laugen, though most called me Frey here in America, my origin? I bet you can guess, living in the land of the Norse in a small town Narvik, put on this earth on the April 18^th 1907, I was no country girl, I held much more brute than mother Greta could bare and well my father? Nothing more than an assistant in my existence along with my siblings, coward.

The decision was not taken lightly to jump aboard head half way across the world to start a new life, a new journey at the ripe age of 21, to say it was overwhelming and liberating is an understatement. Upon my feet hitting the concrete docking area, my eyes as wide as saucepans I set out in New York to find a solid income, somewhere where I didn’t need to speak was preferable somewhere to learn to native tongue.

Before leaving the dock a gentleman whistled out speaking to me in my native tongue “Little girl, do you need a job?” I felt dread rush through my core pulling my jacket tighter around me, meekly looking at him nodding “Ja” is all I managed to stammer out, pathetic looking back at it now, for all I knew he was going to make me a prostitute, though offered numerous times for a decent salary as he had numerous enquiries from patron’s about me being their “personal hostess”. For a man he respected my repeated decline compared to those who visited the brothel surprisingly.

Years passed, I learnt how to speak the native tongue of New York suppressing my accent, numerous mobsters visited and frequented, doing some business in the basement, which was my main priority to keep them happy till one night, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Feeling the sting of the patron’s hand across my cheek after another dreadful shift at the escort lounge, my tears welling as I rested my hand on my cheek, refraining my anger from being unleashed. this is not what I had envisioned when I first took the shift as a waitress, the constant abuse from these drunken assholes.

“I spend enuff moneh here you bitch, if I wanna touch I can!” the man swayed on foot slurring his words, my eyes wandered across to my boss whom was watching on unfazed, hell he looked somewhat amused my the scenario.

My eyes narrowed focusing back on the patron, my tone callous as I spat venom “Drittsekk..”

“Speak English you ain’t in your home country you disrespectful whore…”he took a stride towards me towering over me in attempts to intimidate me, before I could open my mouth I felt a firm hand grasp my shoulder gently yet reaffirming, jerking my shoulder away from the clasp a growl forming in my throat, I was sick of being man handled by jerks left right and centre, entitled assholes who saw me nothing more than a piece of meat. Looking over my shoulder fire brewing in my eyes as my body became ridged.

The mysterious gent spoke cool, with little to no emotion.

“Listen DeFranzo, she’s here to serve drinks nothing more n’ you know it…laying a hand on her ain’t to wise for your family seeing you’re on OUR turf, a long way from home…”  a smirk played o his lips as he was enjoying this upper power hold, unable to supress an eyeroll and a huff I shook my head

“No one fucking owns me…”  muttered involuntarily, fuck! Did I say that out loud? my eyes widened as I scooped my hair to the side rubbing the back of my neck.

“You’re right Frey no one own’s you… though I do have a business proposition for you, we’ll continue this conversation after I deal with this douche yes?” just like that he ended the conversation without further word as he lunged towards the drunken man DeFranzo, shuffling him effortlessly up the stairs muttering becoming inaudible till he was out of ear shot in the back alley, I stood there stun unsure what I was to do, mobsters cocking their brow of what they witnessed their guns drawn and loaded at the ready. A few pistol shots echoed through the lower level a noise I should be used to by now, however made me jump every damn time, clearing my throat flashing a megawatt smile as I approached a group playing poker in the darkened basement, the cigarette smoke growing thicker as the night went on, alcohol thick and sweet coaxing the air, swirling the bottle of whiskey in hand, my tone overly sweet…likely seen as sarcastic.

“Boys need a top up? On the house…”a cheer erupts from the Mafioso’s raising their glasses as I make my way around filling their tumbler to the brim, taking a swig of the of whiskey in the bottle to ease my nerve’s, my mind working over time with the thoughts raging at rapid fire. No sooner than later the door swings open with the mysterious gent with bloody splatter on his vest as he marched down the stairs wiping down his bloodied hand with a handkerchief is eyes locked onto me, a deviant smile played on his lips, his fingers curled around the bottle in my hand drinking the remainder of the whiskey “Ahhh…” as he read the label almost taking note for future purposes

“So Frey… the business deal, Your boss here owes us some money after gambling his profit which was due last week in attempts of doubling it, idiot..”he took a seat on the lounge seat eyeing me from head to toe “ we came to a deal, I take his most valuable employee as a temporary fix till he finds the four hundred odd thousand” a chuckle escaped his lips as my mouth gaped open.

“Relax it’ll only take him three months sweetheart” he said cockily,” I wanna know though why are you so valuable to him though? No offence sweetheart yer face is pretty n’ all but if you aint servicing the gents here, sorta draws blanks to me yanno?” his brow cocked as he rests the empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table beside him.

“Well Sir…”  I cleared my throat slightly offended, he quipped

“♥Rokuro jus’ call me Rokuro...” He gestured me to continue, amusement evident.

“I actually get deployed to competitors around the country sourcing information for him, as you said pretty face and all, play dumb get fed information to my advantage, manipulate where needed to get ahead.. like DeFranzo’s crew sell’s coke for four thousand per unit, high grade stuff sell it over east for ten.”  folding my arms across my body, we continued to talk in great length till he escorted me to his HQ to meet ♥CLO for a more private conversation, the place was huge, attention to detail was high level, it wasn’t some low shady curb gang, this was an established unit, with exquisite taste, though, why did they need me?

Fast forward three weeks, I was shipped coast to coast on their dime, earning and escorting various items and produce doubling profits in a matter of a three days, holding my own, proving my worth with limited blood shed of some Durden family… I could get use to this life.