Gin, Dresses and Mobsters

One

           

Author's note:
Hi everyone! It's me, back again with another multi-chapter. I know I now have several multi-chaps started, but I really love this one. I already have four chapters written, and if you follow me on tumblr or ff.net you'll have seen the first three already. If not, and this is the first read for you, I really hope you enjoy it because this is my favourite time period and I think it's some of my best writing! Let me know what you think!!

The low canopy of trees cast shadows across the path, leaves swaying back and forth in the brisk winds of winter as Robin leaned against the side of his building. The Sherwood was hidden in plain sight. So easy to walk straight into that nobody ever did. Even so, Robin had his office on the top floor; the main reason being to keep every man and his dog who worked in admin from knocking on his door every five minutes, rather than the thought of a rival stumbling in.

His right hand rested on his cane, where an elegantly carved silver lions head sat at the top of the black varnished wood. The forward tilt of his head meant his eyes were cast in darkness from the brim of his fedora and the rain dripped in rivulets down his exposed neck.

"You're late." Even though Robin couldn't see the figure behind him, he could sense the tension crackling. If Robin had learnt anything from being in this game so far, it's that tone of voice is everything. He wasn't the strongest physically, but that didn't matter when you could get a man to break every bone in his own arm.

"Locksley, listen to me," and this fella's tone left much to be desired. The quiver in his voice irked Robin, made him swivel on his heel to face the scrawny man. Robin wasn't exactly tall, but he loomed over Isaac with a stare cold enough to freeze over the East River. "I--I can get you your money,"

"That's funny," drawled Robin, humourless smile playing on his lips, "If i recall correctly, that's what you said to me last week. And the week before that." He stepped into the alley towards Isaac with every word, backing him further and further away from the lamp light of the main street.

"Please, Locksley, I--I have a kid!" He was shaking now, cowering like a dog to his owner.

"I don't believe you."

So quick that Isaac couldn't register the movement, Robin had him pinned up against the wall with one arm, cane pressed to his neck. "Now you listen to me. Okay?" Robin's voice was low, hissed, and he waited for Isaac to nod before carrying on. "I'm not going to kill you for two reasons. Number one, I have plenty of people to do it for me." He glanced up at the building behind him to emphasise his point. "Two, I want that money. And you're going to get it for me. Understood?" Isaac gave another frantic few nods of his head before Robin roughly shoved him back into the wall then let him go. The man bolted, holding onto his hat as he ran back to wherever he crawled from.

Robin took a breath, brushing off his sleeves and straightening his tie before he strolled back into The Sherwood.

The ground floor of his building was a bar, steady business in the day, but crammed from wall to wall at night with the scum of the earth. Street rats, mobsters, the filth that had outstayed their welcome at every other place in the city. He weaved his way through the smoky room, past card games and hushed conversations swallowed by the louder ruckus of the large room, to where Will Scarlett was leaning on the bar with a crystal tumbler of whiskey.

"Sorted it then?" asked Will, swirling the amber liquid round his glass before taking a sip.

"I won't be waiting much longer, let's just say that."

Will gave him a long look, his lips curving into a boyish smirk.

"What?" Snapped Robin, not bothering to look back across at him. The other man was unscathed by the barb, taking another pull on his drink before he spoke.