In Another Life V

Chapter 1

It had been a long night. And it was far from over, thought Jack Napier, as he sat in the car, window rolled down and smoking casually on a cigarette as his eyes fixed on the doors to the Gotham Mint. Any moment now, Buzz Bronski and Chuckie Sol were gonna come racing outta there with three million dollars in cash, and it was Jack's job to make sure they got away with it. He kept his eyes peeled on the doors, inhaling from his cigarette, trying to keep his mind on the job at hand. But his mind had always had a tendency to wander, and at this particular moment, it had wandered back to the scene earlier that evening in his apartment. The scene where his wife was yelling at him.

"You're a useless clown, Jack Napier!" she had screamed, picking up the empty liquor bottle and throwing it at him. It had shattered on the wall next to his head. "You'll never amount to anything! You don't take anything seriously, and you don't take me seriously!"

"I do take you seriously, Jeannie!" he had screamed back, trying to calm her. "That's why I'm going out tonight! The boys said we're gonna bag at least three million, and I'm gonna get a cut of that! We're gonna be rich! I'll be able to buy you all the shoes and diamonds you want..."

"I don't believe you, Jack!" she screamed. "You're always making excuses to not spend any time with me! You're off at the track, or on a job, or God knows where! It's like you don't love me anymore!"

"I do, baby, you know I do!" he had cried, trying to embrace her, but she slapped him hard, shoving him away.

"I deserve so much better!" she hissed. "So much better than some second rate gangster, some goddamn clown! I coulda been the wife of a mob boss, Jack! And instead I'm stuck with the likes of you! A failure, a waste of space, a man who don't appreciate a single thing I do for him..."

"I don't know what else I can do to show that I appreciate you!" he cried. "I buy you presents whenever I've got the money, and I take you out to nice places when I can afford it! But I can't stay cooped up in this apartment all the time, Jeannie! I'd go crazy!"

"So you go and blow what little money we got at the bars and the track?!" she shrieked.

"Jeannie, the only reason I got this job with Sal Valestra tonight is because I got in his good books," retorted Jack. "If I do this for him, he might take me on as a permanent hitman, and then we've got it made, baby. He's one of the biggest mob bosses in Gotham, and the richest. But I couldn't have ever got a shot like this without schmoozing some, and spending time with the guys! I'm doing this for us!"

"You're doing this for you, Jack Napier, as usual," she muttered, grabbing a near empty liquor bottle and drinking directly from it. "You're a selfish, greedy, mean excuse for a man, and I curse the day I married you!"

"Jeannie, maybe if you just stopped drinking we could discuss this rationally..." began Jack.

"Don't you dare criticize me!" she shrieked. "How dare you tell me what to do and what not to do?! I'll drink if I wanna, Jack! It's the only way I can stand living with you!"

She finished the bottle and threw it at his head again. He ducked, and it hit the wall again. "Just get outta here!" she shrieked. "Just go! You don't love me! You don't love anyone but yourself!"

"I'll...I'll bring you back something nice with the money I get, Jeannie," he muttered, leaving the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

Jack's thoughts returned to the present, as he puffed on his cigarette again. Jeannie was right – their life was his fault. They had married when they were both too young for it, about five years ago. And since then Jack had struggled every day to support his young wife in the style to which she was accustomed. Unfortunately, Jeannie Moore had been the daughter of one of the wealthiest drug smugglers in Gotham, and the style to which she was accustomed was well out of financial reach for all but the most successful of criminals.