guide me towards salvation | tinsley/goldsworth

chapter five

Tinsley recognizes him. He's been following him since Chicago, and now he's just standing idly on the pathway. The man is wearing a black overcoat and a fedora. He's sitting cross-legged, gloved hand resting on his lap. His green eyes flicker up to him, and he stands up but his blank expression doesn't change.

He doesn't think straight and just lunges at the man, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him to the wall. 'Listen, I have quite a day so I'm going to ask you once; what the fuck do you want from me?'

'Mr. Tinsley, I'm going to have to politely ask you to get off of me.'

'You're in no position to ask here, pal,' He hisses, tightening his hold. He feels the dam of frustration from the past few weeks start to crack, and his face twitches. He just wants to be left alone, Goddammit . Instead of answering, the man smoothly maneuvers, expertly twisting Tinsley's arm and putting it behind his back while he shoves his cheek on the hardwood wall. Tinsley looks at him from his behind and he's still maintaining the straight face.

'Mr. Tinsley, you are going to calm down and we will talk, understand?' The man says, his tone suggests that it goes on without question. Tinsley tries to wriggle but his hold is strong, and his arm is starting to hurt. So, he stiffly nods.

'Who the hell are you?' He asks once the man frees him, stretching his arm out.

'Who I am doesn't matter,' The man fixes his wrinkled shirt and vest, 'I'm here for Ricky.'

—

When Ricky wakes up, his mind is foggy and his mouth is dry. He blinks slowly, squinting at the light. He looks around, and sees that he's still in Kwo Wey's home. He sits up, and instantaneously, he feels an intense pain piercing through his head. The dawn has not broken in, but there is a slight gleam of sunlight from the skies. He stands up, fighting the urge not to vomit. He sees a myriad of unfamiliar pills and dry swallows two of them, trusting that they were specifically for him.

Last night had not gone according to what it should have been, which is mostly the trend for Ricky recently. The plan was to go to New York, have a civil, polite dinner at the home of Goldsworths' rival family, the Fratiannos. They settled in LA just two years ago, and have been surprisingly civil, saved for a few hostile interactions with their men. Ricky, being the family's very own honeypot, was sent to charm and possibly seduce Luca Fratianno. He's an adorable little thing with pretty eyes, so he's not too annoyed. Unfortunately, it all went south when he found out that his drink had been drugged. He pulled out his, shooting the bastard on the shoulder so fast, he never saw it coming. Then, he jumped through the window and got out of dodge.

It had not been the smoothest escape route, but he would have been littered with bullets either way.

Ricky walks over to the couch, where Kwo Wey is sleeping, mouth open. Careful as to not make a sound, he moves a loose plank on the floorboards and takes out a duffle bag. He searches for one of the many counterfeit identification papers, and grabs a handful of hundred dollars. He always has one of these bags hidden anywhere he decides to lay low, which is just practical thinking if he does say so himself. Ricky returns the bag to its place, whispering, 'Thanks, KW.' before getting out of the house. If he starts walking now, he could reach a neighbourhood and hotwire a car to California.

—

'I don't know anyone named Ricky.'

'Please let's not kid ourselves,' The man takes off his hat, revealing short, dirty blond hair parted to the side. They're inside his house now, both facing each other. He's short, much shorter than Goldsworth but they have the same air of holier-than-thou. However, in contrast to Goldsworth's impulsive, shameless nature, this man seems much more disciplined. Deliberate.