Whiskey, On The Rocks

seven

tw: murder, blood, all that jazz

this is where the mafia shit starts so from here on just keep this tw in mind, im not going to remember to put it in ever chapter

My mouth was drier than the damn sahara desert as Travis weaved our fingers together, not only holding my hand but holding it properly, leading me from the bar.  We went through the kitchen, out a side door that led straight into the casino. I swallowed nervously as Travis took me up to the VIP area, nodding at security, and we stepped up into the empty area.

I wasn't sure what I expected him to do, so I followed blindly as Travis took me around a corner, down a hallway that looked like where the bathrooms were. The door down the end had an out of order sign on it, and we stopped there. Travis turned to me.

"Last chance kitten." He murmured. 

"I want to know." I whispered, clutching his hand tightly. Yes I was scared, but nothing could overcome the overwhelming need to understand.

Travis nodded, taking a key from his pocket and unlocking the door. We walked through, and he locked it behind us. The tiny space we were in was dark, but I could just see another door right in front of us, light peeking from beneath. Travis lifted a hand, and I heard three beeps before the door swung open.

I didn't know what I had expected, but the sight before me wasn't even close to what I thought Travis meant by danger. The door opened out into a mid sized room, a few hallways branching off, secured by glass doors with key card locks. But all I saw was the room in front of us. 

One side of the room was full of computers, machines, and the screens were covered in profiles and maps and CCTV cameras and everything you could possibly imagine. A few people were milling around, seemingly working. On the other side were shelves, and I let out a breath when I saw them filled with weapons, stacked high, just sitting there. And in front of them was a section of tiled floor with a drain in the middle, with a man strung up, hanging by his hands from the roof, streaked with blood, shirtless. My hands trembled.

Then one of the glass doors leading to one of the hallways slid open, and someone came out, their face splattered with blood and a dagger in their hands. I watched as they crossed the room, going through another door down another hallway. I could see lots of doors down the third hallway, meeting rooms maybe?

"What is this?" I whispered. 

"This is a new world kitten." Travis murmured in my ear. "This is where the darkest and most dangerous people in the city have targets on their backs, and we take them down." My breath caught.

"You work for the mafia." I realized.

"No, kitten, I am the mafia." Travis' voice purred. "Everything you see here is mine. I own everything. You want to run?" He asked me, and I shivered but shook my head. I wasn't sure I'd be allowed to run even if I wanted to. "Well go on then kitten." He let go of my hand. "Take a look."

Nervous but letting my curiosity take over, I crept forwards. No one working around the computers seemed to care about what I was doing, but I didn't approach that side of the room. I couldn't take my eyes off the man tied up on the left. He seemed awake, but his head hung down, his body still. 

I approached slowly, my eyes wide as I looked at all the weapons in the shelves behind him. Then my toes nudged the tile, and I stopped a meter away from the man. He looked maybe a few years older than me, but it was hard to guess since he was covered in cuts and bruises, his blonde hair spotted with red. I didn't know why he entranced me so much. But then he lifted his head and looked at me.