Bookshop on Maple Street

Chapter Four

Whiskey's always been my favourite drink. The burning feeling as it slides down my throat reminds me that I still can in fact feel things that aren't complete numbness. I wasn't one for feeling things anyways, I'm not an emotional person by any means, never have been, never will be and that's just something the world will have to deal with - especially after seeing that little trouble today, it stirred something in me it shouldn't have... wasn't anything more than annoyance. My line of work requires no emotional attachment, especially after that last deployment, and that's exactly what I give them.

Let's be honest here, being a Lieutenant isn't exactly the easiest job in the world - especially when I have to deal with the recruits pissing about during training like its some sort of game. Ridiculous. They need to have better control of their feelings, it's like babysitting a bunch of five year old's when we're in training - what's so funny about shooting someone right through the eyes? Do they not understand how dangerous their lives have become since joining the military? Clearly not.

I down the rest of my glass and then flag the bartender down for another - only good part about this town is that the whiskey here isn't half bad. Well maybe there's a few things, including a certain guy's sister, but that's not the point here...not really sure what the point is. I let out a deep chuckle, clearly I wouldn't be driving home tonight but what's the problem with that?

The bartender skims another whiskey over to me and it doesn't take more than a flick of my wrist to catch it before it crashes to the floor - why do that if you can't control the force you use? Some people just aren't made for job's like this and Christ help him, that lad needs to get a different job.

I stare into the bottom of my glass, the ice non-existent. There's no point drinking watered down whiskey, especially when its as mediocre as this stuff is, people need to grow a stronger liver. I swirl it around, watching the liquid tip into the empty half of the glass, a bad habit of mine but letting something like this breath gives it a fantastic burn on the way down. I whorl the luke warm whiskey in my glass, only breaking concentration when my phone plays its familiar tune of 'Highway to Hell', forever a good song. The number isn't saved in my contacts so who the fuck has gotten a hold of my phone number at ten o' clock on a Monday, bastards.

"Who are you and what do you want?" I practically growl down my phone, I wasn't one for talking to people especially when I'm drinking. This better be good or when I hunt them down they won't be liking me all that much - not that I'll like them either, they'll wish I was going easy on them.

"Hey umm, it's Celia...JJ's sister.." the nervous stutter of words ring through into my ear, a small squeak comes through straight after. She was so small, even her slightly high voice was tiny, this will be good.

"Ah if it isn't the little troublemaker," I smirk and lean back against the barstool, there was just something about her that's so easy to tease, it's awfully delightful and that's coming from me.

"Y-yeah, are you drunk?" she asks in a more concerned tone than I was expecting from her but with Jake as her brother I'm not surprised if she's as much of a wimp as he is when it comes to problems.

I let out a chuckle, the smirk on my face widening a little when I imagine her squirming over something as simple as a spider on the windowsill, "Not at all trouble, now what can I do for you darlin'?" I question, pausing when I realise that I just called her 'Darling' like she's anything more than my mates little sister, damn this alcohol must be stronger than I thought.

"O-okay, you're definitely drunk, Lieutenant," I grind my teeth a little at that nickname of her's, I'm aware she does it on purpose but god does it grate on my nerves, "the power has gone out at the bookstore and I can't get it to turn back on, c-could you help?" she laughs into the phone nervously.