A/N: This is my first published fanfic. It's from the movie Death Sentence, which is an awesome movie! Reviews of any kind are welcome!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Sentence, or any characters featured in this story with the exception of Hansen Matthews. Please, do not sue. It's all in good fun.

I had just flicked my cigarette over the edge of the balcony when someone came up behind me and grabbed me by my upper arms, pulling me back against them. I sucked in a sharp breath, not frightened but excited. I knew who was behind me, I knew what strong arms were holding me, just like I knew every square inch of the body that was pressing against me.

"You're home early," I said, leaning my head back, taking in everything about him at this moment. The smoothness of his clothes contradicted by the roughness of his unshaven chin pressed against my temple, the way he held my arms pinned down, not tightly enough to kill circulation, but still firmly.

And the way he smelled. I fell in love with him because of that smell. Sweet cigar smoke and some cologne I never knew the name of, along with, on these nights, expensive liquor. Tonight was whiskey. I could practically smell the Jack Daniels and Jim Bean seeping through his pores.

"Maybe I didn't wanna pay for somethin' I could get for free," he whispered, releasing his grip on m arms, but then wrapping his arms all the way around me, still pinning me to him. He leaned down and kissed my neck, leaving a trail down to my shoulders.

"Or maybe you already did and you're just lookin' for seconds," I challenged. "I can smell that cheap stripper perfume all over you."

"Never," he said seriously, then added "Never ever," more softly, nibbling on my ear lobe lightly.

I laughed at his teeth's tickling touch. "Good," I told him. He loosened his grip a little and I took the opportunity to turn around, to see his face, but I was still trapped. It wasn't my place to break free, that was the game he was playing tonight.

"You know why, right?" he asked. "Why you're the only one?" I loved the nights he got drunk, he got sweeter and sweeter to me with every drink.

"Tell me," I pleaded. "Please?" I went to stand up on my toes, trying to steal a kiss. He moved his head back farther. Denied. It wasn't my turn yet.

"Because of this," he said, leaning down to kiss my necklace. When he started in his gang, he gave me this necklace, one he had been wearing for years. An Irish knot, a symbol of protection. "Because you keep me safe."

It had become his ritual now. Every time he left the somewhat safe confides of our little two-bedroom apartment, I'd meet him at the door. He'd look at me and kiss the necklace once, kiss me once and then leave.

"I will always keep you safe," I told him, smiling and laying my head on his chest.

"Speaking of safe," he started. "I thought I told you not to stand so far out on the balcony?" He looked down at me through slanted eyes.

"You did," I agreed, "but I don't like to cloud up the apartment with my cigarette smoke unlike some people with their cigars."

"I don't care," he told me without pausing. I have to keep you safe."

In a split second he had his arm wrapped around one leg and hoisted me over his shoulder. I laughed in between yelling for him to put me down and beating my fists on his back. He ignored me, walking with such purpose, as if I was his hostage and he was a soldier at war.

He walked into the bedroom where he gently placed me on the bed. I watched as he shrugged off his coat, placing it with care over the back of the chair. Then watched as he removed his shirt. I took in a sharp breath, biting my lip, smiling. I would never tire of looking at his body.

He leaned onto the bed, starting to kiss my stomach, moving upwards, pushing up my shirt until it was just above my rib cage and then moved up to lay kisses on my neck, sucking on the curve where my neck turned into my shoulder.

He started to come up close to my mouth, then pulled away, teasing me more. I moaned, complaining. He was driving me crazy, not letting me kiss him.

He laughed at my protest, bringing his knees to either side of my hips, pinning me in place once again. He stared into my eyes as he ran both hand up the sides of my crumpled up tank top, then lifted it off all together, throwing it into some obscure corner. He stared down at my half naked chest, smiling an evil smile.

I smiled back, placing both hands on his shoulders, pulling myself up to him. He held me tightly to him, burying his face in my hair, inhaling deeply.

Then he pulled my hands off of him, holding me by my wrists, gently but firmly, pinning my arms down. He used one hand to pin both of my wrists while the other undid the drawstring of my pajama pants. Finally he leaned down, kissing me deeply.


I woke up a few hours later, hearing banging on the door. Billy was asleep still, his arm draped around me.

"Billy," I whispered, turning over a little. "Billy, someone's beating at the door."

He grumbled a little, turning the other way. I rolled my eyes, grabbing the sheet off the bed and wrapping it around myself.

"Fine, " I said, faking aggravation. "I'll go get the door."

I looked through the peep hole. Nothing.

"Who is it?" I yelled.

"It's Joe," they slurred. "Open the damn door, Hansen."

I laughed, unlocking the five locks we had and opening the door. Joe sat in the doorway, head lolling around drunkenly. He looked up at me and my toga-by-bed-sheet ensemble.

"Well," he said with a laugh. "So that's why my brother left so early. Was wondering where he went off to."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at the drunken mess on my doormat.

"Billy!" I yelled. "Come pick up your drunk brother and get him to his bed before I leave him to sleep in the doorway."

I heard Billy laugh all the way from the bedroom. He came around the corner, wearing a pair of boxers. He came over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and laughing at his brother.

"So are you gonna get him up or should I just lock him out?" I asked Billy. Billy sighed and helped his brother off the floor.

Throwing one of Joe's arms around his shoulder, the two brothers made their way to Joe's room to deposit the kid on his bed, as I followed and watched as Billy covered up his kid brother, removing his shoes and jacket.

"It's times like these that aren't you glad that we invited Joe to come live with us?" I asked. Billy laughed at me. "Now, after all this excitement, I have no idea how I'm going to ever get back to sleep, Mr. Darley. Any ideas?"

"A few, " he told me, lifting me up, threshold style and carrying me down the hall to our room.


After we were done and Billy was passed out again, I rewrapped my sheet around me and went back to the balcony to have a cigarette. I know Billy didn't like me out here, but I hated that after-smoke smell and being out on the balcony made me relax.

I sat in one of the dollar store folding camping chairs we had out there, thinking back on how I had arrived here in this two-bedroom apartment on the wrong side of the tracks, living with my long time boyfriend and his little brother, both well-known gang members and drug dealers.