Detroit was freezing today. It was 3PM, I was sitting in my office handling some paperwork when I get a knock on my door. When the door opened Mr. OShannon informed me of a ruckus going on outside the hotel. I noticed the lobby was awfully quiet, but didn't think much of it.

As I walked through the lobby and out to the sidewalk, I realized why. Across the street was a few disgruntled men, along with this one guy on the roof of the building holding a sign that read "Noto is a crook!".

I had never saw this man in my life, or at least I didn't think I did. None the less I stepped a bit further into the crowd, as some people noticed me they started shushing everyone else in the crowd. After a few seconds the street became very quiet, you could hear a pin drop. The people near me backed away a bit, forming a circle around me. The guy on the roof quickly notices me and yells out "there he is! The thief, where's your goons Noto?...didn't feel like making them do your dirty work?."

Few days prior I had kicked the habit of smoking, but this was a good time to light one up. I inhale the smoke and exhale through my nose first, followed by my mouth. "What's the issue with me?, you have a bad stay at my hotel or something?." The man who was still holding his sign speaks up "fuck your hotel! I would never stay in that dump, I don't give business to thieves."

I take another drag before asking "what have I stole from you Mr....".

"PHILLIPS!...5 years ago I opened a hotel here in the city, things were going great until you slithered your way into the neighborhood! After 5 good years I have to close my doors. Puts me and my employees out in the street!"

Staring up at the man, I couldn't help but understand his point to an extent... but his reaction to me was extreme to say the least. "So customers?... that's what I stole?... let me tell you something Mr. Phillips, creating a business and succeeding don't make me a thief... it makes me better then you at what I do. Now get down, your embarrassing yourself."

"What about you Noto! You don't embarrass yourself?... hanging with that broad Billie_Faegan!...well I guess if you consider her a catch then all I can say is good luck with that."

My face turns red, and it was not from the cold weather. I begin to walk across the street as the crowd moved aside. Before I can enter the building one of Phillips former employees gets in my way. Giving the guy a hard push sends him flying through the glass door that was once the entrance. The crowd start to mumble things to each other as Phillips yells out "FUCKING TOUGH GUY...WHAT HE'S GONNA KILL ME FOR MOUTHING OFF?."

After making my way up to the roof, I run into Phillips. He had dropped his sign and charged me as soon as I got to the roof top. I grab a hold of his jacket with my right hand, and his throat with my left. As I back him closer to the edge of the building I yell to him repeatedly "YOU KNOW BILLIE?."

As we run out of space on the roof I toss the guy off out of rage. Most of the crowd yells out profanity. Crowd was stunned, I hear one guy say "He's still alive!"

The drop was at least 12 feet but I guess he landed in a way that fortunately for him... was not fatal. I made my way back downstairs towards the street, halfway down I lit another smoke as I dropped my previous one. I stand over Phillips and say "insult my business... ill look the other way, insult Billie... we have a problem!" I look at a nearby civilian and say calmly "call the man an ambulance." I then walk through the crowd and k to my hotel.

Thomas had stepped out of the hotel with Noto; it was going to be a pleasure to watch this one in person. The man chiding Noto about not having his goons do his dirty work made Thomas chuckle. "Guess I be tha goon, hi?" He smacked Noto's arm laughing as the two of them looked up and Noto tried to talk the man down. Then the nerve was struck. He could see Noto's veins in his neck as he became more agitated with the mention of Billie Faegan. Thomas' eyes shot up and he took one step before Noto stepped in front of him and took the lead.

Thomas backed down and let Noto handle the issue, though he couldn't help but think how nice it would be to drop him on his head. Glass shattered as one man went through it. Thomas laughed and mumbled to himself, "Shite yerself on this one, boyo. Noto's angry now."

He saw the man run towards the center of the roof, and could hear Noto yelling...

"YOU KNOW BILLIE?! YOU KNOW BILLIE?! YOU THINK YOU FUCKING KNOW BILLIE?!" The man tripped backwards, at least that's what the headlines would read.

-- John Noto Attempts To Save Suicidal Business Failure's Life --

Thomas' strides were long as he moved to see Noto's handy work. "He's alive! He's still alive!" people were yelling. As Noto walked up, Thomas stepped out of the way.

"Insult my business... I'll look the other way. Insult Billie? We have a problem!" Noto turned, "Call the man an ambulance." Thomas stayed as Noto headed back in.

He crouched down and stared at the man who lay still, barely breathing on the concrete. "Yeh focked up, Boyo. Just be glad yeh did get Noto an' nae his 'goons' as yeh so called them. Yeh wouldn'ae get tha chance ta do t'is shite again." Thomas leaned in really close and whispered something in the man's ear... His eyes widened and he began to yell unintelligible gibberish as Thomas stood and walked away. The man's face was stricken with horror as his cries faded into street noise before the doors to Paragon Tower shut behind Thomas who headed for the bar.

Billie cinched her swing coat tightly around waist as she fought her way up the street in the biting cold. Her short, relaxed curls whipped wildly in the winter winds. It was blustery, cold, and well after lunch. Yet, inexplicably, the street was choked with people. As she neared the hotel, shouting from far above drew her attention to the motivation of the growing crowd. From her current distance she could make out very little about the men on the roof, but familiar voices drifted to her on the wind.

Even distorted by the weather and distance, she recognized Noto’s voice, saying her name. No. Not saying. Screaming. Suddenly she felt as if the floor disappeared from under her. Her stomach sank with a crashing dread. For a brief moment, she couldn’t move; paralyzed by panic as the men moved closer to the edge of the building. Suddenly she was moving; lurching into motion before she could even fully comprehend the situation, running as fast as her short legs could carry her.

“Oh no. No no no no no no no.” She wasn’t sure if it was aloud or in her head, as she barreled headlong into the crowd of crushing bodies. Swallowed by a sea of shoulders, she pushed her way through the crowd; dodging elbows and feet as she wove her way toward the clearing at the base of the entrance. She quickly lost sight of her target, and even with her impressive voice, her pleas were drowned out by wave after wave of hysterical bystanders.

As suddenly as she’d begun moving, everyone else stopped. There was a collective gasp, and sickening splat. For a split second it seemed the whole world froze, vibrating with the tense kind of energy you feel when you hold your breath for too long. But the man survived, and people began to call out as Noto exited the building.

Billie could just barely see a sliver of the scene flickering between the observers in front of her. Noto said her name again. Thomas did too. And the poor pancake of a sap began to howl unintelligibly. Someone skittered off to summon an ambulance, and her boys returned to the Tower. But Billie was still left questioning. Laying a hand on his shoulder, Billie tried to tiptoe high enough to see past the man in front of her. He turned to greet her, but gasped and backed away instead. Like Moses and the Red Sea, the crowd of people parted; murmuring and staring as they did.

She felt like a plague victim or an animal on display as she moved down the hallway of people, toward the man now laying on the pavement. But all of those thoughts went out the window when she recognized Mr. Phillips. He was beaten and bloody, but there was no question. Billie rushed to his side, in spite of the horrendous things he often said to her when chasing her away from his family, removing her coat to shield him from the cold.

The man was still sputtering curses after Thomas; struggling, despite his injuries, to push himself up. Billie slid to her knees on the sidewalk. Phillips grabbed her white dress by the collar, pulling her close to relay Thomas’ message. Billie’s eyes went wide as her face contorted in disgust. Gently she pulled the man into her lap. Cradling the man like a child, she tenderly wiped the hair and blood out of his face; shooshing and petting him like a mother would. With a sympathetic smile she shook her head.

“No. No no. Llisten to me, you crotchety old coot. I’m not going to let that happen. Okay? I’m not.”

She looked up at the crowd around her. No one moved. No one helped. The ambulance was taking too long. “M…marjie,” the man sputtered, and Billie drew her attention back to him. Continuing to pet his face she rocked gently, looking down at him with compassion and conviction.

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Phillips. Marjorie is going to be just fine. Just fine. Just like you.” She leaned down, pressing her forehead as close to his as she could. “You know how she’s always wanting to dance? Well I’m going to see to it that she gets to. On a real stage, for a real audience. And your boy… the little one who wants to be a doctor. I tell you what, I’m going to start a college fund right now. As soon as the medics get here. I’ll go straight to the bank.” Phillips sputtered, coughing blood onto her alabaster dress. She continued rocking, taking a deep breath as she looked around for the ambulance. “And… and you house. I’m gonna pay off your mortgage. Okay? You don’t have to worry about losing the house. It’ll be yours. In your name, land and all.” Phillips began to shake, his face contorting in pain. Several broken bones had erupted from the skin, and were slowly staining her dress and the cement around them a deep crimson.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THE AMBULANCE?!” she cried, searching the horizon for the telltale lights before turning her attention back to the man in her lap. Stubbornly, she continued trying to comfort the man. Not so much for any care about him, but out of fondness for his children; especially his daughter. She idolized Billie.  “Your family will be safe. And… and fed. I’ll make sure of it. And your bills. You don’t have to worry about them paying these medical bills. You won’t have to worry at all, okay. I’ll keep them safe. I’ll keep you safe. Okay? I will. For Marjie.”

Billie nodded, trying to camouflage her expression, “Okay? Okay. Yeah…” She smiled with relief as the ambulance finally screeched to a stop, the EMTs parting the crowd with barking authority. The man was lifted from her lap and whisked off with supreme efficiency. No questions were asked. No one dared even approach her. As a frigid stupor snuck began to sneak over her, Billie stood and moved numbly across the street to the Tower. Ignoring the clamouring crowd she moved inside; winded, trembling, and covered in blood….

Thomas lifted his drink to his mouth, turning in time to see the ambulance rush away. He continued to turn, and froze. His eyes sat on Billie.
 "Fooock fock fock..." The drink slid from his hand as he rushed towards Billie, already in full stride before the glass shattered against the marble floor. He skidded to a halt next to Billie, noticing it wasn't her blood. He could tell from the look on her face.

"Billie..." he spoke out quietly. "Billie, yeh need ta sit down. Why don' yeh make yer way ta Noto's office an' have a seat. We can get yeh some clean clothes, a wash towel..." He trailed off attempting to lead her out of the eye of public. She was in a slight bit of shock, it was obvious.

"Billie...Biiilllliiieeee..." he waved in front of her face. "BILLIE!" He clapped his hands in her face to snap her back to reality.

"Billie..." She blinked at him, "Are yeh okay Billie?"

Little did he know the shit storm of rage that was probably about to boil over inside of Billie... MAYBE he would get lucky. Maybe.

As I was cooling off in my office I hear a glass smash on the floor, followed by Tommy yelling Billie's name. This day was turning into a nightmare. I open the door to my office to see Tommy standing with Billie, who was a bloody mess. As I go to make my way towards the two of them, Tommy puts his hand up. "Coming yer way boyo!, she be fine lad."

Before going back into my office I look to Linda, the receptionist. "Make some calls, do what you have to.... but get Ms. Billie_Faegan some clean cloths." Linda nods, with a face that radiated many different emotions.

I grabbed some scotch and some glasses. I then took  a seat at my desk, I had a feeling Billie was either shaken up... or she was about to freak out. Regardless of which one it was, I knew I was about to find out what happened.

Billie was fine. Cold. A little irritated. But fine. She strode toward Linda, hovering back away from the desk a little so she didn't frighten off the other customers at the desk. Patiently -- and as inconspicuously as she possibly could while being covered in blood -- she waited to retrieve the key to her room. It seemed logical. She was paying to keep it on retainer now, even though Noto seemed indignant at being expected to take her money. Silly, fragile little things, men's egos. She pondered this paradox as she waited, just in side the Tower doors; trying not to draw attention to herself.

But of course, it wouldn't be her life if someone wasn't fawning over her with annoying, spotlight attentiveness. Billie silently cursed her stars as she turned toward the sound of breaking glass. Why? Why couldn't she just melt away into the background like a normal person? Just once? Striding toward her, Thomas looked like he'd witnessed someone murder a baby. It was kind of comical, actually. Billie tried to put her hands up. Tried to tell him to stay put. Tried to tell him she had a room and just wanted to go shower. But of course, it's impossible to tell a man anything when he won't let you speak for yourself. 

"Billie..." 

"I'm f...."

"Billie, yeh need ta sit down. Why don' yeh make yer way ta Noto's office an' have a seat. We can get yeh some clean clothes, a wash towel..." 

"But I have..." She tried to motion to the desk, to no avail. He held her by her shoulders, as if she might try to run or swing... actually, that second bit sounded pretty damned good. 

"Billie..."

"I'm o... "

"Biiilllliiieeee..."

"Shut up, To..."

 "BILLIE!" He clapped his hands in her face to snap her back to reality, and she just about jumped out of her skin. 

"Billie..." 

She blinked at him. She was covered in blood, and it seemed HE was the one in panic mode. There was no getting through to him.  

"Are yeh okay Billie?"

Billie stared at him a minute. It was no use. Better to just get out of the lobby as quickly as possible. If they wanted a wilting wallflower, god damn it, she'd give them a wilting wallflower. A piece of her mind could wait until they were behind closed doors.

Billie placed her hands firmly on Thomas' shoulders, making sure she could use him as leverage if need be. She certainly didn't want any more blood on the marble -- and certainly not hers. Looking him straight in the face with her best vacant stare, she let herself go limp -- sliding toward the floor and trusting him to catch her. 

Of course he did. And it was nothing for him to  instinctively hoist her small frame into his arms. Everything from there was a flurry. Just the kind of blur they seemed to expect -- though WHY, she couldn't seem to fathom. There was cursing, and barking orders, and rushing about. Noto yelled at poor Linda about clothes, and Billie wished she could tell the girl she had a clean dress upstairs. 'Oh, well,' she thought to herself, 'He owes me a new one, anyway.' 

She tried not to smirk at the thought as they whisked her into the office. Noto had scotch and glasses ready -- it would have been cute, if she hadn't been so vexed. As soon as the door slammed behind Thomas, Billie popped up like a jack-in-the-Box and slid expertly from his grasp; not unlike a boa, though much sexier. All of a sudden, just like that she was perfectly fine. They'd been had. It was their own stubborn, asinine faults. But, nonetheless, they'd been had. 

Sinking into one of the chairs with an exasperated sigh she grabbed a glass of scotch and downed it, snapping at Noto and motioning for another -- with a telltale smirk, of course, because she'd never want to bruise his fragile self-perception. For a long while she regarded both of them silently... like your mom when you know you're in deep shit but she hasn't started yelling yet...

With a DEEP breath Billie set the glass on Noto's desk and leaned back in the chair, folding her hands in her lap. "Can I talk now?" she asked, her voice like cold acid, "Or should I let you two go first?" she perked a brow, her gaze flickering between the two of them. 

After me and Tommy exchanged glances, I focused my attention on Billie.

"You go first Billie, I'm glad to see your ok."

She my have been ok, but she looked unhappy. I had no idea what happened to her, I only had knowledge about the incident that I was involved in.

Billie sighed. Where did she even start? Rubbing her temple she sighed again, "Yeah. I'm fine! Which your bonehead friend here would know if he let me get a word in edgewise." she glared at Thomas, though she was talking to Noto. "I...I...I..." she stammered, obviously flustered. "I don't even know where to start with you two. I mean what the fuck were you thinking?! Oh. That's right. YOU WEREN'T!!" 

Billie was suddenly very glad for the waiting room that separated the office from the lobby. Without it, the whole hotel was likely to hear her screeching. "I...I... mean. I understand maintaining control in the area and reinforcing our grip on the populace... but you can't just go throwing people of buildings because they don't like me. It's ridiculous, and irresponsible, and immature, and childish, and... and... and..." she growled softly, and took a deep breath to calm herself. "And I expect more out of you, John." 

She looked at him in that 'I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed' kind of way. "People are far more loyal when they respect you. Fear is weak. It will crumble the minute that something better comes along. If we aim to maintain control of this city, the people have to feel safe to some degree. They have to feel confident that if they stay out of our way they are relatively safe, and they have to know when something goes wrong they can bring it to us. You just blew all of that straight to hell. Do you have any idea what kind of damage this will do to the Tower, to the paragons, TO ME?!"

She was huffing again. Breathing deeply she took a long, gulping drink from her scotch. "It will take weeks and stacks of cash to smoothe this over with the public." She took another sip. "I want you to listen very carefully to the words about to come out of my mouth."

Billie met Noto's gaze with a serious stare, "I. Am a whoring. Negress." She held up her hands to stifle any objection from the men, "And you... both of you actually... are race-traitorous bastards. You have to come to terms with that. It's just the way our world is. It's adorable that you want to change that. It's really sweet that you think it doesn't matter, and that you want to defend my honour... or what the fuck ever. But if you want to keep doing this..." she motioned between them, "You have to get used to hearing it. Because you can't outright murder every fucking piece of shit racist bastard that has the balls to say it to your face. Take him behind a dumpster -- I don't care -- but don't do it in public." 

She turned on Thomas, continuing to rant, "And you sure as HELL don't threaten their families. Especially when they are local and I like them." She gave Thomas and Noto equal glares. "Phillips might be a piece of shit. Had you done this any other way I'd be sucking your cock. But his family... their good people. His daughter wants to dance. She wants to work with me. And his son is brilliant. He wants to be a doctor. Plans to work in low income neighborhoods -- to help people growing up like I did. You see?" 

Billie paused and held Thomas' gaze, "I don't give two fucking shits how you and your bog-treading paddy wagons do things...." she took a deep breath. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry." She cleared her throat, looking at Thomas apologetically. "I don't care how you do things in the IRA, but here: No women. And no children. period." 

She a few more sips of scotch, "I just spent ten minutes cradling a man I loathe to save face for you. I'm covered in his blood, and sickens me to my core. Not because I'm scared of blood but because he was... is... a despicable, detestable, piece of shit human being. And I was put in a position of kindness to him out fondness for his family because you couldn't control yourself... AND THEN YOU WOULDN'T EVEN LET ME TALK WHEN I GOT INSIDE!" 

... another deep breath and sip of scotch....

"I have a dress upstairs. And a shower. And I had a plan -- in fact everything I did was calculated... as I'm sure you might've noticed...." she snickered. "And for some reason you both still seem to think I need you to come white-knighting to my side every time some big mouthed bully says something mean. How am I ever supposed to be a respectable mafiosa like that, hm? And how are we supposed to keep business like that, hm? Huh? How?!" 

.....Okay..... she was done now.... it seemed. She leaned back into the chair, trying to tug the bloodstained and quickly coagulating clothes away from her skin. It felt gross, and she looked clearly uncomfortable as she waited for them to reply..... carefully.  

"Tommy before you say anything, allow me to go first."

I stand up out of my chair and walk around the desk, I sit right in front of Billie, staring at her for a moment before speaking.

"Billie... you're right in a lot of ways... now allow me to explain myself. Respect, yes it does get you very far in life... and business... and with people. That being said respect don't save your life! I've seen it first hand time and time again, my father! He was respected... but he lacked that fear, and that lack of fear got him gunned down!...I had no idea you knew that guys family, all I knew is he disrespected you and maybe I crossed a line. But if defending you makes me an asshole then so be it, he insulted someone I cared about. I'm a fucking criminal what do you want me to do? Take him for a nice walk and talk it out! This world is not perfect and neither am I, but I don't tolerate disrespect. And I'm sorry you look at yourself in such a poor way, because the way I see it... your not a whore, and your body is not for sale... your an entertainer, and a damn good one! Remember that. Respect get you friends, fear sends people a message."

I take a drink of scotch.

"He insulted you, and he crossed a line. My issue was with him not his family, and if he don't make it...I will provide enough to care for his family, you have my word on that."

I look to Tommy to see if he has anything to add.

Thomas shook his head and half grinned as Billie insulted him, and then retracted her statement to make it nicer. He listened as she rattled on about it, no women and no children included. He stood, saying nothing as Noto began to speak.

Thomas moved to the other side of the room and poured himself a glass of the Irish Single Malt, drinking it all and pouring a second before Noto finished. When Noto looked at him he sat his glass down and moved over to Billie.

"First t'ings first. Yer right. I should have let yeh speak in the foyer. Secondly, yer right again, John probably didn'ae handle that so well. Tossin' a man off a roof, in public, nae tha best move."

He lifted his glass as John acknowledged the truth to the statement.

"However..." his eye shot to Billie, a weight behind them she'd probably never seen in the time they'd lived together at her flat.

"Don'ae think that I would e'er trully harm tha lit'l ones. I'd much rat'er put a bullet in Phillip's head than harm them. It's just a tactic ta make 'im think twice about what 'e wants ta be spreadin' about tha streets."

He took another sip of his drink, "But don..." He trailed off and shook his head. Nope, he was going to let Billie have her moment. She didn't need to know the horrors that were his life, were James' life. How women and children were just as easily used as leverage. Psychological warfare... It was ingrained in Thomas' way of life. Sons, daughters, wives, husbands, cousins... Family. Love is a dangerous thing, as beautiful and pure as it is. It can cause good men to sin, and bad men to feel remorse. It was an easy, and well used target, for intimidation and mental terror.

Thomas sat his drink, still half full on the table. It was unlike him to not finish it... But he walked up to Billie, kissed her cheek, and removed himself from the office without so much as another word. The door shut behind him, and the waiting room door could be heard shutting as well.

Billie melted in back in her seat  with a groan. Pinching the bridge of her nose as she cursed up at the ceiling. She'd hit a nerve, and she knew it, but this wasn't Ireland and this wasn't war... not anymore. In a crazy, stressed kind of way she giggled.

"You know, it's funny. I actually DO want you to take him for a walk." She laughed again, "Take him for a walk around the block, and do him while no one's looking." She nodded at the ceiling, "Shoot him the head, give him a chelsea grin, curb stomp him. I don't care. Leave his body in the street, and people will still get the message loud and clear -- and likely with more intimidation -- than what you did today. That's all I'm saying. It's cleaner that way. More effective." 

Billie sighed heavily, leaning over and downing the rest of Thomas' whiskey since her scotch was empty at this point. 

"Now get your ass over here and let me hug you, my dear man." She stood and met him halfway, holding him tightly. "Thank you... for standing up for me. And for letting me babble. And for being stronger than I could even dream." She laid her head on his chest, too short in her flats to reach his shoulder, "You have a code. I know you'd never touch the kids. I'm sorry I..." she covered her face, the full irrationality of her behavior setting in on her. She gestured at the door toward the lobby, indicating everything that happened before. Clearing her throat she smiled up at him playfully, "But you're still an egghead for throwing him off the roof." She ran a hand through his hair, "But you're my egghead." 

She squeezed him a little tighter before moving toward the door, "Thank you, John, for treating me with respect just now. You can't possibly know how many men have slapped me down for far less." She gave him a soft smile, fully expecting the veins in his neck to start pulsing. "I appreciate the ability to speak my peace more than you know." With a deep sigh she placed her hand on the knob, but looked back at him briefly, "But I need to go smoothe things over with Thomas, and... and shower... obviously. If Linda actually finds me a dress, send it up to my room, wont you please?" She headed out the door before pausing and turning back in to mouth the words 'i love you' as the door swung shut. 

Moving out into the lobby, she cut a hard right and headed for the stairs -- fewer people to see the blood. She'd shower, and then head down to her flat. Perhaps she'd even hand over her key as a way of making amends. Thomas could use a place of his own anyway... 

Thomas had gone straight back to the street... The bustling crowd had completely dispersed, and the blood was already cleaned from the street. There was one police cruiser near the scene of the accident and two uniforms were processing. He looked both ways before jogging across the street to have a quick word.

"Mr. O'Shannon! Good to see you this morning. Any comment on what happened here today?"

"Nae... Just wonderin' what yeh think yerself, Officer Bertelt."

Inga Bartelt sighed and looked around before stepping close and whispering, "It's going to be hard to swing this one your way, O'Shannon. I don't know what you boys were thinking, but I may not be able to stop the red tape coming down on this one. Too many eyes. If Mr. Phillips want's to press charges, then we may have to arrest Mr. Noto."

Thomas sighed, "T'ank yeh, Inga... I appreciate yer honesty. I'll make sure Mr. Phillips doesn'ae press charges." Thomas turned away and Officer Bartelt reached out to grab his shoulder to stop him.

"Thomas... I've known you a while now, boy. You can't just walk into the hospital and kill him."

Thomas blinked and shrugged Inga's hand away.

"I don'ae know what kind o' man yeh t'ink I am, Mr. Bartelt... I would na'er kill a man." He smiled before taking off down the street.

After making his way a few blocks, Thomas grabbed two Paragons off the street, "Yer wit' me taday lads. We need ta go have a shite wit' Mr. Phillips at tha infirmary."

The two men eagerly nodded and joined Thomas, all of them walking with purpose towards the hospital. Thomas kept his head down and his hands in his coat pocket, making sure the garment stayed wrapped tightly around him to keep the cold out. The men followed closely behind him, but kept their eyes up and alert.

The hospital doors swung open and the three men strolled into the front lobby. Thomas signaled for them to wait back a bit as he made his way to the front desk.

"Busy day, hi?" he smiled to the nurse at the desk. She looked up and frowned, "Busy isn't the half of it. Can I help you sir?"

"Am lookin' fer a Mr. Phillips? Lad took a fall off a roof this marnin' an' I wanted ta see how tha boyo be doin'?"

The nurse scanned over her list and nodded, "Seems Mr. Phillips just got out of surgery. He's going to make a recovery, though it will take a lot of therapy to get him walking again." Thomas smiled and nodded, "Room number please, lass?" She looked at her papers again, running her finger across it until she looked up, "Left wing, room 132. He's probably asleep righ..." she trailed off. Thomas was already moving towards the left wing of the hospital. The two men who'd walked in with him followed his move quickly.

"One t'irty-two... One t'ree two..." He glanced at room numbers as they continued by until he stopped. Looking back over his shoulder he whispered to the men. "Nae one, an' I mean -nae- one..." he glared at them, "... comes t'rough t'is door but me, yeh hear?"

The men nodded and as Thomas stepped into the room, the men stepped in front of the door. Mr. Phillips was indeed asleep from the surgery so Thomas took a seat in the corner of the room, sinking into the leather chair. He crossed his legs and picked up the paper to read. "Huh, tha Logan Review makes fer Hospital readin' too? I'll need ta tell that ta Kate." He began thumbing through the issue awaiting Mr. Phillip's inevitable waking.

Phillips stirred and yawned before looking over to the chair where he saw someone. He squinted his eyes but shook his head, "Ex... Excuse me sir, pardon me. Who are you?"

Thomas dropped the newspaper from covering his face, "Oh, Mr. Phillips. Glad ta see yer awake, lad."

Phillips' eyes widened, a familiar sight. He began to yell, "Nurse! NURSE!"

Thomas spoke calmly, "Mr. Phillips... Mr.. MR. PHILLIPS!" He jumped up and covered the man's mouth, "Shhhh shh shh... Don'ae be screamin'. Am just here ta speak wit' yeh. Nae harm ta be done. Enough's been done taday already. Am gonna remove me hand... Nae screamin', tá?" Thomas nodded as if asking, and Phillips returned the nod.

"Good." He removed his hand from Phillips' mouth.

"Are you here to finish what Noto couldn't?"

Thomas sighed and shook his head, moving back to the chair across the room. "Nae lad. Told yeh that already. Nae here ta harm yeh."

"Then what are you here for, you fuck?"

"Fer one, ta let yeh know that yer family -will- be safe. T'ey will be taken care of. Yer medical bill will be handled as well. Yer family will receive what t'ey need ta survive, an' some."

Phillips scoffed and looked away, "Your afraid I'll press charges? Well you're right. I plan on taking everything Noto's got!"

Thomas sighed, "Yeh don'ae wont that ta be tha case, Mr. Phillips. Yeh be forcin' me hand if yeh do. I suggest, yeh do wha's best fer yer family. Take tha settlement outside o' courts. Yer son will get 'is chance ta be a doctor, yer girl can perform on tha stages of tha world... An' you, Mr. Phillips... You will walk again. I... We, can make sure this happens fer yer family. Just need yeh ta nae press charges, an' it will all be yers."

He stood and walked over to Mr. Phillips. "Will yeh see yer boyo performin' surgeries an' savin' lives? Yer daughter performin' wit' 'er name in lights? Yer wife an' yeh livin' a grand life wort' anythin' yeh ever could have imagined? An' suppose we even sweeten tae deal an' give yeh a position wit' Paragon Tower, so yeh can work an' make yer own wages on top o' everythin' else yeh recieve?"

He paused and his smile faded, "Or will yeh force me hand, Mr. Phillips? Will yeh na'er see yer daughter's name in lights, or yer lit'l laddie boy grow ta be tha greatest Doc?"

Phillips looked at Thomas for a moment. "I don't want your money... But I can't deny what you can provide for my family. You promise me that they will be taken care of? They will have what they want? If you can deliver this, then I won't press charges. You have my word. I don't like Noto, and I don't like you... But I will do this for my family."

Thomas shook the man's hand before moving to the door. "Just know, the money will remain, unless yeh cross me, Mr. Phillips."

"I don't plan on crossing any of you again. I don't want to fall farther next time."

Thomas laughed, "Well, yeh know... If yeh keep to yer word, we will catch yeh next time before tha fall. Oh, like I said, yer medical expenses will be paid fer before I leave."

Thomas headed out and made his way to the front desk again, taking care of the bill on his way out. For their job well done, Thomas paid the two goons a handsome fee and let them loose on the bars for the night.

Thomas made it back to Paragon Tower and waltzed through the door, straight into Noto's office.

"John, Phillips is goin' ta live. I paid fer his medical bills. Now I know yeh don'ae like teh man, but when he be released from teh hospital, yer gonna give teh focker a job. Here. At teh hotel. I don'ae care wha yeh have him doin', but it will suffice. He an' his own will be taken care of financially. His daughter will learn from Billie, an' his boyo is gonna go ta school ta be a doctor. He be a proud man, Noto... We may be able ta use t'is ta our advantage. An'... If all else fails? We drop 'im off da tower's roof. No way can 'e live t'rough that, an' that? It will be an accident."

He grinned and looked at Noto. "I nae be askin' t'is, John. I be tellin' yeh fer teh Paragons... It be best ta keep Phillips' family happy fer now."

He plopped down in a seat across from Noto's desk, waiting for the man to soak the information up... He was excited to see whether Noto would agree or fly off the hook about having to hire Phillips.

I sit and process what Tom had just said. I place both arms on my desk as I leaned forward, making eye contact with Tom.

"You know... you have a point Tommy, this is a good move for the Paragons. But to be honest Billie also has a point, maybe throwing him off the roof was a little extreme. I see no problem in giving the man a job, its the least I could do."

I sit back and take a deep breath.

"Just know that if he steps out of one again... he won't be flying off any roofs. He will not survive the next time! Especially if he insults Billie."

Thomas chuckled. "I have nae intention o' keeping the man alive, but fer public face? We give him a job an' it looks like we patched things up an' tha public distrust blows over. An', as much as I hate it, we set someone up ta take tha fall fer killin' him. Make sure t'ey end up dead fer it. Looks like we avenged 'is death, when we orchestrated tha whole thing."

Thomas stood and moved for the door. "Is there anyone we wouldn'ae mind takin' teh fall fer such a death, Mr. Noto?"

"There is... Jerry Rosenthal! Former employee of Phillips, angry one at that. Been hearing that he may testify against me, may even be planning to rough up Phillips due to his previous layoff. He is our best bet, and makes a lot of sense because it looks like something that happened out of rage. Jerry lives on Elijah Ave, near the industrial part of the city. If he's not at home he's at the bar near by drinking like a fish."

Stopping before the door, he turned back. "Jerry Rosenthal, hi? Well, le's see if we cannae make t'is thing we do tilt in our favor, tá? Rosenthal will be so drunk that 'e cannae have a positive alibi, An' we can make sure 'e is seen by plenty o' people tha night we kill Mr. Phillips. Give it about a month fer Phillips to get comfortable here. Make 'im think t'ings be goin' smooth. T'ere be naethin' fer Rosenthal ta testify against as long as Phillips nae be pressin' charges. We keep 'im happy until we put 'im ta rest. T'en we make sure Rosenthal be t'ere ta take tha fall."

With that being said, Thomas left Noto's office and headed off into the foyer. He needed to do some research on this Jerry Rosenthal wick.