The Bagman's Direction

Prologue

Vinegar. Why did it always smell like vinegar here? I shrivelled up my nose and squinted my eyes, trying to ignore the foul lingering scent.

He squabbled before me, drool leaking out of his mouth as tears lined his pathetic eyes. Maybe the smell was coming from him. Maybe it was piss.

I rolled my eyes and spat at the ground. My hand firm against the steel, finger sharp against the trigger and ready for any sudden movements.

"I'm not going to ask you again, James"

The words rolled harshly off my tongue and glided over to him, piercing those stupid grey orbs and making them cry profusely. I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"I p-p-promise" James blubbered, the tears rolling into his fat mouth.

"Tell him the fucking truth" My associate screeched and my head snapped up to glare at him.

"Calm down, I told you not to talk" I hissed at him.

Who the fuck was this kid? I was mad now. How dare he intervene when I specifically told him to shut up before we walked through the door. He was just meant to accompany me and look intimidating. He was meant to be learning not stepping in. Aggression and cussing were not the ways I liked dealing with these situations, with my job.

My intense hatred-filled stare terrified him and he gulped hard, darting his eyes back to the floor. He was slightly shaking now. I could tell by the shiver of his gun that the nervousness was rattling his bones. I could hear him swallow again and I wanted to walk out. Why was I surrounded by two pathetic twats?

"James, you know Daddy wants his money" I reinstated, trying to focus back on the task at hand and not the intern beside me.

"I know! I know!" He cried harder, not being able to maintain eye contact with me.

James had his hands behind his sweaty head as he knelt on the blood-stained floorboards at my feet. I watched as his tears rolled from his rugged cheeks to the ground and I stomped on them. The muzzle of my gun soon rested on his forehead.

"Don't make me ask you again"

"I don't have it!"

"Bullshit!"

My associate's rage resurfaced and I was ready to shoot him too. I tensed, trying not to snap again and concentrating on my gun to this sleaze's head. I pulled back the hammer and the click sound shot a flicker of realisation across his eyes, I was one pull away from ending everything.

"Are you sure about that, James?" I politely asked. "Because Daddy said that if you don't hand over the money you'll just have to hand over your life instead"

"Okay! Okay!" He whimpered and I smirked.

I drew back my revolver and stepped back from his measly presence. I fell back in line with my associate who's eyes grew wide at my techniques. I was so over eyes and what they could display.

James slowly rose from his uncomfortable position, hands in the air now. He was still trembling and crying as he waddled to his kitchen counter. We watched him, guns still pointed at his bruised body, just in case. He bent behind the bench and opened a trap door that easily blended in with the mouldy, grotty tiles that I thought were once blue.

James came back into vision, cautiously lifting a raggedy brief-case to the counter. He placed it on the surface, over the dead flies and moths that littered it's dusty display.

James' house was always so disgusting. Blood stains, dead critters, dust, mould, that vinegar scent... But that was because he was only here Saturday's, today. All throughout the week he was busy with his gang prodding dirty needles into his limp arms and burning his throat with foul-tasting ale. He also gambled. He gambled a lot. He gambled with Daddy and he thought he could get away with cheating. That's why I'm here, I was reclaiming the proceeds of an illegal and dodgy game of poker.

He grabbed a plastic bag then opened the brief case and I could smell it. Dirty money.

"Five thousand, right?"

"Don't flirt with me, James" I jested, walking over to him, gun in hand.

"S-s-sorry... Eight" He stammered.

He started pulling out the wads of damp green currency. He counted them, the piles in his arms growing wider. Eventually he asked me to double check, still quivering and scared for his life. I counted the bunch in his hands and nodded. He pushed it into the plastic bag and I grabbed it with a smile.

"Thankyou for your co-operation, James" I grinned.

"Why don't we just take the whole brief-case?" My associate frowned at me as I was making my way to the front door.

"Take all of James' savings and let him die? A boy has got to eat! Well maybe not necessarily eat but he sure has taste for something that he can't live without. Come on, let's go" I cockily stated and gave him a wink.

We parted ways with James, bidding our farewells and strolling into the darkened alleyway after stepping out of his house. I adjusted my blazer before walking along the cobbled ground, my associate finding it hard to keep up.

"Why were you so nice? I was ready to bust him up!" He screeched.

I rolled my eyes, stopped and turned to him with a stone cold face. His act was getting old although I had known him for little than a week.

"James is a regular client, new boy. We like to keep our clients happy and not have their brains all over the floor"

"You had your gun to his head though?"

"I did but did you see me pull the trigger? I don't kill people"

"Are you telling me you've never killed anyone in your life? Surely... Your Daddy's nephew... You've been in the business for so long... Never?" He gulped.

I shook my head and grinned.

"I don't like resorting to violence. This silver tongue isn't only good for kissing, new boy"

"Stop calling me that. My code-name is Temper" He argued and I laughed.

"I wonder why. You could barely hold it back there"

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to this, any of this. The smell in there, his crying, his weakness... I promise I won't do it again"

"Who's to say you're ever going to come with me again?" I frowned, folding my arms which made the bag jostle.

"I'm still learning and Daddy said..." He swallowed, afraid by my intimidating stare, "He said Chop Suey was the best in the business and that you'll train me up and... And..."

He was overdoing it and that's when it dawned on me.

"You're not a cop, are you?" I asked, as if I believed he'd be honest about it.

He stayed silent. Terrified. Of course he was a cop. All the newcomers these days are cops. I groaned, a little frustrated now. I would have to send somebody to kill him eventually.

"How dare you!" Temper regained his well overdue temper after a stifled silence.

I rolled my eyes, stroking my muzzled chin and slightly gaping at him.

"Fuck you! How could you even say that? I was the only one ready to blow his brains out and you just stood there, cracking jokes, no violence. If anything you're the cop, fuck the force man. Fuck you. I can't believe this-"

For a man of my stature he was surprised how strong and fast I was as I threw him against the wall and held him to the bricks, hands gripping his collar as his feet dangled above the ground. My lips smashed into his own which stopped his blubbering and caught his breath in his throat. He wasn't expecting this. He didn't expect my overwhelming hatred to turn to lust as I sucked on his plump and dry lips like I was a spider and he was a fly.

I detached our embrace and dropped him to his feet, he almost toppled over. I stood back, taking a deep breath to regain myself and I stared at him. What was he going to do now? Shoot me? Kiss me again? I smiled at my coyness to the situation.

"W-w-we should... I mean... What?" He puffed, so confused.

"What I propose to do now..." I declared, sticking my gun into my holster and keeping the bag wrapped around my wrist, "Is teach you how to control your temper by obtaining a motel room for the night"