Old Friends Silver - Mad Maggie x fem!reader

6

Rumours about Pierre's death spread like wildfire. Some believed he killed himself, others believe he was shot by someone on his team, a few people speculated that the hooker he took up to a room killed him.

The exact details of that rumour were fuzzy. People said he was angry and tried to kill the hooker- they retailed in self-defence and killed him instead. Other people said the hooker was high on something and killed him on purpose or by accident.

Pierre's crew disappeared for a few days, their table sat vacant and empty. I sucked my teeth as I stared at it from my stool at the bar. Pierre's group knew I was the last to be seen with him, and yet, I hadn't been questioned about it. Edgar on the other hand hadn't come to work in three days. This set alarms off for some of the workers, many refused to take on new clients and were being extra careful around their regulars.

I had already expressed my concern to Walter when he visited me two days ago. I told him about how worried I was about Edgar, Walter promised he'd investigate it, but I hadn't seen him since. I hadn't seen Maggie either. For some reason, I expected her to be sat in the corner by the door. I kept glancing over there, waiting and watching in case I missed her.

"Rough two weeks huh?" Derek said, awakening me from my trance. I spun around to look at him, he was pouring a brown liquid into a small glass. He nodded towards a weird looking man on the other side of the bar, he was wearing a black jacket with the hood thrown over his head which prevented me from seeing his face. "He asked about you." Derek whispered to me, I sighed.

"What'd he say?" I whispered back.

"Asked if you had anymore clients tonight, I said probably not considering its an hour till closing." Derek and I glanced at the man again, his back was now turned to us, his attention drawn to the Bone Cage match that was blasting from the small TV screen. "Sneak out now." Derek nodded towards the archway, "If he asks, I'll say you had a client after all."

"You're an angel." I said, offering him my warmest smile. I slid off the stool and slinked out through the curtained archway. I made my way into the slightly crowded changing rooms. Several workers were sat at their vanity, undoing their hair, or wiping off makeup. I didn't bother with this; I just grabbed my bag from under my cushioned stool and snatched my black jacket from inside. I put it on, zipping it up halfway and throwing my hood over my head. I tucked the bag on my shoulder before taking one last glance at Edgars station. Fucking hell.

I walked out of the brothel straight into the alley way. It was almost dawn, the sun was barely rising, leaving an orange glow on the buildings. I tried to quicken my pace, desperate to get home, the looming anxiety becoming too much for me.

I yelped as something threw itself at me. It all happened too quick for me to register it. I was being held up against the brick wall, my legs pathetically dangling. A knife was being held to my throat. I looked down, expecting the guy from the bar, only to see someone else entirely. It was a big guy, obviously stronger than me. The bottom half of his face was hidden because of a mask. Only his eyes were visible to me, these great green eyes, that's all I could think about.

"You were with Jean Pierre the night he died." His voice was husky and rough. I shook my head, he applied to knife harder to my neck. "Liar." He said, he had an unsettling calmness about him. I shook my head again. Panic took over, my heart was beating at a million miles per hour. I could barely think or speak.

"He got angry-"

"That's why you killed him?" I shook my head again, letting out a desperate whine.

"I left the room after he hit me, he stayed inside." My voice was shaky, I couldn't calm down, I couldn't think. All I could think about was his weight holding me up, the way the knife was cool against my warm skin. All I could think about was how I was going to die.