Rating: NC-17 (mainly language, violence, smut)
Disclaimer: I own nothing of KAG and only own Taylor in my head. I make no money from this.
Summary: What happens when you want to leave 'The Family' and you meet your soul-mate.
Feedback: yes please but nits or shreds by PM only thanks
"What do you think is going on over there?" Matty sat back down opposite Taylor.
"Got no idea," Taylor was watching the pair of them carefully. The man was most definitely a P.I. – he'd seen enough of them to recognize them. The woman on the other hand, was a mystery. She wasn't from this part of town. The nervous glances around her and the lost-look she wore gave her away.
"You checkin' her out?" Matty slid Taylor's coke across the table.
"Yup!" Taylor's eyes never left her. Waist length curly hair, looked black in this light so he could be wrong – doubted it though. Black vest top, black skirt that skimmed her ankles and a serious look on her face. "I'm trying to work out how she keeps those…" he pointed to her sandals, "…on her feet!"
Matty raised his eyebrows at his friend, almost spitting out the beer in his mouth. "You mean to tell me she has the tits of a porn star and you're starin' at her feet?"
"Yup!" Taylor grinned. Matty laughed.
"Man! You are truly losing it! So, what do you think they are doing?"
"Well, if you shut up, I can concentrate. Don't you have some orders to order or something?"
"Nope! I'm gonna sit here until that fuckin' meal settles. I have to talk to Ronnie about the huge portions he's dishin' these days."
Taylor took a gulp of his coke and watched the P.I. take a wadded envelope from the woman and then pass her a file. He wasn't sure if he was happy or not that his instincts were right – if he was correct, she was a scorned wife, the P.I. had been tailing the husband and the file contained the evidence that would break her heart. And she looked nice, unassuming and nice.
"Still lookin' at her feet?"
"Wouldn't kill ya to use a different word every now and again, ya know." Taylor flashed Matty a raised eyebrow look. Matty smirked back. "So…ya gonna see that girl again? Whatser name…Trish?"
"Nope. And her name's Lola."
"Mind if I ask her out?" Matty loved to push Taylor. Their friendship went back many years to when they were kids. Taylor had saved Matty from a beating and after that, no matter how hard he tried, Taylor couldn't shake Matty for love nor money.
"Matty, you are welcome to ask Lola out but she will say no."
"How'd ya know that? I might be her type."
"I doubt it very much."
"Why's that? After a slice of Taylor meat, they never want another man?"
"Lola didn't want a man in the first place – she likes women not men." Taylor deadpanned Matty.
"So how comes you ended up going out with her then?"
"Long story." The P.I. had gotten up to leave. The woman stood, shook his hand, watched him leave, and sat back down, opening the file and leafing through the pages.
"I said, are ya gonna tell me? Jeez, aren't ya listening?" Matty's voice came over the top of Taylor's thoughts.
"Later." Taylor stood and walked over to the woman.
Matty's eyes followed the Tough Guy, he smirked and shook his head. He finished his beer and took his empty bottle and Taylor's coke back up to the bar. A pretty blonde-haired woman caught his eye and he forgot all about Taylor, and Lola.
"Can I get you a drink, ma'am?" Taylor's brown eyes carefully took note of the woman-in-black's face. Green eyes, even in this light he could see they were green, long dark lashes, freckles, soft full lips.
"I'm sorry. I was just about to leave. But thank you anyway." Her smile was dazzling; it hit him like a ton of bricks in the stomach. She certainly didn't look like a pissed off, scorned wife.
"Just one drink?" he made his eyes as pleading as possible, knowing exactly which look always got the women to stay for one more drink, one more fuck…
"I'm sorry. I really do have to go. Maybe some other time." She stood up and her lack of height took him by surprise, as did her curves.
"I've never seen you in my bar before, how do I know you'll come back?"
"Flash me that pretty smile again and I'll be back. Soon. You can count on that."
Taylor smiled. He liked her. And Matty was right, he conceded, she did have very nice tits.
"There you go. Painless. Goodbye Mr. Reese." She slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up the file. Grinning, she turned and walked out the door.
Taylor watched her leave, open-mouthed. Did she just call me Mr. Reese? She knows who I am? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? He pulled out his cigarette's and put one in his mouth while he flipped his lighter, sending it careening onto the floor. Bending to pick it up, he saw a folded piece of paper. He picked up both the paper and his lighter.
Lighting the cigarette, he inhaled deeply before blowing out a long stream of smoke. He re-pocketed the lighter and opened the piece of paper. On it was a list of names and beside each name was a sum figure. Taylor scanned the names to see if he knew any of them. A couple looked familiar.
Re-folding it, he pushed it into his coat pocket and walked over to the bar, "Jerry? You ever see that woman I was just talking to?" Jerry, the barman, nodded. "You ever see her in here before?"
"A coupla times. Mostly around this time. Met a different man each time – nothing hinky – looks like business meetings." Jerry had been lucky enough to serve her each time she'd been in, diet coke and friendly chatter. She'd asked who owned the bar and Jerry had told her. When she had asked what the two owners looked like, Jerry had thought it odd but didn't see any harm in telling her, he described Matty Demerit and Taylor Reese. Jerry wondered if he should share this nugget of information when he was pulled back to serve in the lunchtime rush.
Taylor was incredibly intrigued now – his trouble radar went off. And he had a habit of attracting trouble. But then again, if trouble came in a package like that, he didn't mind so much. He crushed the cigarette butt out in the ashtray.
Scanning the bar, Taylor saw Matty working his magic on a blonde-haired woman – pretty but nothing special. 'Better leave him to it,' he thought, walking behind the bar and down the narrow corridor to his office. The room was dark apart from the computer's screensaver. He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair at the desk. He sat down and moved the mouse, the screensaver blinked off to reveal the bar's logo. Pulling the folded piece of paper out of his pocket, he opened it again and spread it out in front of him on the desk.
Pulling up a webpage, he ran a search on a couple of the names but nothing came up, nothing of any use or of any interest anyway. He looked at the figures beside the names, all large sums, but made no obvious sense either. Blackmail, maybe drugs. Hard to tell without any more information. Not that it was any of his business, either.
His elbows were resting on the desk with his head in his hands; he rubbed his temples in slow circles. She knew his name. Taylor could see her in his mind. She was nothing like the women he was normally attracted to. He stopped. He wasn't attracted to her, he was intrigued by her. Different thing, he told himself. She did have a damn fine pair of tits. Grinning, he tried to imagine her undressing for him right here in the office, and then sitting on his lap in this very chair he was sat in right now.
Shaking his head, he pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, leaning back in his chair, his feet on the desk and blew smoke rings into the air.
He'd still like to know how she kept those damn shoes on her feet when there was nothing to them. Just as he was about to follow her ankles up her legs and beyond, there was a knock at the office door.
Matty stood in the doorway, illuminated by the bright light in the corridor behind him.
"Taylor, you ready? Pops wants this job done tonight."
"I'm ready." Taylor stood, stubbed out his cigarette, and pulled his jacket from the chair back.
Once a Tough Guy, always a Tough Guy.