3. SPARKS

2438 Words
~ Violet ~   Violet grabbed the most expensive bottle of whiskey she could find, the 30 year old Macallan, and the retail price was about $1,600. She brought the bottle over to their table and put it down right in the middle. She thought they would be impressed once they saw the bottle, that was most people’s reaction, but the guys just looked at her with a bored stare.   “Yeah, we’re gonna need more than one bottle, sweetheart,” the guy sitting next to Damon snickered.   “C—coming right up,” Violet said and turned to her heels.   She didn’t know why she was stammering. She had been serving drinks for customers her entire life, she didn’t need to stutter like that. Violet thought maybe the nervousness was because a mafia king was staring at her like a hawk. She didn’t know what she did wrong, but Damon Van Zandt had been glaring at her ever since he walked in here.   Violet was busy pulling out more bottles of The Macallan from the bar when she heard another guy spoke to Dylan, “So, I heard you got some pretty girls around here?”   “Yeah, where are the girls at?” another guy laughed.   “You want them right now?” Dylan asked.   “Why not right now?”   “Well, alright,” Dylan got up to his feet and strode to his office.   Violet rolled her eyes to herself because she knew what was coming next. This wasn’t the first time Dylan hosted a ‘private’ party for special guests. Danny, the bar owner, was never fond of these things so Dylan would have to do it under the table. This was a risky business, but Dylan was always handsomely paid, so the risk was worth it.    “Why, hello, boys,”   A group of female strippers emerged from Dylan’s office. They were all dressed in revealing lace clothing. Or actually, let’s just call it what it was, they were dressed in their underwear.   The guys cheered and smiled as the group of girls joined them. Dylan went all out with this one. He handpicked only the best and prettiest girls for this event. Violet brought five more bottles of The Macallan and put them on the table. She had to maneuver through the group of dancing girls to get there, but she made it just fine.   Once she put down the drinks, Violet waited for a moment to see if they’d ask for anything else, but the guys were too busy getting lap dances from the girls. Shrugging to herself, Violet went back to the bar to close the register. Every now and then, she’d look up from the register and watch Dylan hand out packets of white powder to the guys. She shook her head to herself and continued counting the register. Then she took a moment to look up again and this time her eyes met Damon’s.    Damon’s eyes were dark and mysterious. Violet couldn’t read what he was thinking. Everyone else seemed to be having a great time, but Damon looked almost bored.    “I told you to get outta here, Vi,” Dylan’s voice broke through her thoughts. Violet whipped her head around to see Dylan leaning by the bar.   “I gotta close the register first, you dummy,” she replied.   “I can do that,” he hissed.   “Like you did the last time you had a private party?”   Every time Dylan hosted a private party, he always ended up blacking out. He’d forget to close down the register and he’d get in trouble with Danny the next day. Violet was only looking out for him.   “Good point,” Dylan sighed. “But you get your ass outta here as soon as you’re done,” he pointed a warning finger at her. Dylan knew how rowdy these parties could get and they were dealing with the mafia this time. He didn’t like his little sister being around these people.   “Don’t worry, I have no intention of staying a second longer,” Violet replied and continued crunching the numbers.   “Yo, Dylan!” another one of the guys yelled.   “Yes? What can I do for you, boys?” Dylan returned to the table with a fake smile on his face.   “Our guests are arriving, we’ll need more bottles,”   “Alright, man. I got you,” Dylan nodded.   As if on cue, the front door opened and a group of older-looking guys walked in. They were also dressed sharply in black suits. If she didn’t know any better, Violet would think that they just walked into a funeral.    The group of guys met each other and Damon got up to shake hands with one of the older guys. Meanwhile, on the other edge of the table, Violet saw one of the stripper girls was giving one of the guys a blowjob.    What a sight to see.   Violet blushed to herself as she was taken aback. She wasn’t even the type that watches porn, and one was happening right before her eyes. She almost lost her count too, but luckily the calculator showed her the right numbers.    After she finished closing down the register, Violet took one last look at Dylan. The guys were sharing their white powders with him and he was now high out of his mind. Violet let out a sigh and turned away. This was another sight she didn’t want to see.   In between the rowdy guys and the dancing girls, Violet managed to slip out quietly out of the room. She grabbed her things from the staff room before heading outside to the parking lot. But before she could make it to the backdoor, she turned a corner and found someone was standing in front of her. The walls were cramped and the tall man was completely blocking her way.   “Excuse me,” she said in annoyance, but the man didn’t budge.   “Leaving so soon?” he said in a low husky voice. The man lifted his face and Violet could see who he was. It was Damon. His dark brown eyes pierced into hers and Violet found herself swallowing hard.   “Are we boring you?” he said again. His one hand was holding the wall in front of him while he was leaning back. Violet had no way of escaping.   “N-no, my shift’s ended,” she stammered.   Damon’s lips curved up a smile. Then he cócked his head to the side and watched her like she was a sight to marvel at.   “What’s your name?” he said.   “Violet,”   “Nice to meet you, Violet,”   Damon stretched out his hand and Violet took a second to think before she shook it politely. Violet was about to pull her hand away, but Damon held it there a second longer. Violet looked up instinctively and suddenly Damon was standing so close in front of her. She almost gasped in shock, but Damon only smirked. And not just that, there was a spark in his eyes. Violet didn’t know if she should run or scream, but she quickly pulled her composure and pulled her hand away.   With his hand off the wall, Violet saw a space for her to walk away. But just before she was about to slip past him, he said, “So what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”   Violet turned back around instinctively.   “A girl like me?” she asked.   “Beautiful, smart, and…” he paused for a beat before adding, “Clearly inexperienced,”   The sentence started out great, but Violet was offended by the end of it. She prided herself in her work. She hated it when people looked down on her just because she was young or she didn’t look the part.   “For your information, I’m well-qualified for this job,” Violet stated matter-of-factly. “I’ve been working here since—”   “I wasn’t talking about the job,” Damon cut her off.   Violet fell silent. If he wasn’t talking about the job, what was he talking about?   Damon let out another one of that devilish smirk and a low chuckle. He motioned a little wave before turning around, muttering, “Have a good night, Violet,”     * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *     Thirty minutes later, Violet found herself sitting in Dylan’s car in the parking lot, unsure of what to do. If this were just another one of Dylan’s stupid private parties, Violet wouldn’t think twice before leaving. But this was different. Something didn’t sit well with her. Hosting a party for the mafia could mean trouble. She heard stories and watched a lot of movies about these people.   Like, what if they start killing people?   Aside from her mom, Dylan was the only family she had left. Violet wouldn’t know what to do with herself if something bad happens to him. She glanced at the clock again, it was a little over 1 AM. This kind of party would probably be over in a few hours. Violet thought maybe she should wait and take Dylan home with her.    But suddenly, on the corner of her eye, Violet noticed a black car driving by from the rearview mirror. She had seen the same car driving by for the past fifteen minutes. Something was clearly wrong here.    The black car stopped in front of the entrance to the bar. Violet could feel the tension in the air rising. She slumped down to her seat and continued watching from the rearview mirror. She noticed two guys were in that car. They weren’t dressed in black suits. One of them picked up something that looked like a walkie-talkie and started talking. And not long after that, Violet saw another black car pulling up behind it. This time, the car had a police siren on the top.    This is a cop car!   Violet immediately understood what was happening. The cops probably got tipped off about this meeting and they were about to bust through the doors. This would be really bad, especially for Dylan who was hosting and facilitating this party. There were girls and drugs involved, and Dylan would go to prison.   No, no, no!   Without a second thought, Violet stealthily slipped out of the car and made her way back inside. She had to warn Dylan and make sure he got out of here before the cops came in.    “Dylan! Dylan!”   Violet was racing through the back corridor and screaming for Dylan, but when she got to the main room, she saw that it was empty except for the stripper girls. The girls were shoving wads of money into their underwear, and some were already changing into their normal clothes.   “What? Where did everyone go?” Violet demanded.   One of the stripper girls pointed to the staff room’s door. Violet quickly made her way over. She pushed the door back to find the group of guys, all twenty of them, rummaging and looking for something all around the staff room.   “What are you guys doing in here?” she demanded. “It’s staff only—”    “The only staff here has passed out,” one of the guys pointed to a blacked-out Dylan. He was lying flat on the floor.    “Dylan!” Violet quickly bent down for him. He was still breathing. He was just asleep.   “They’re coming in,” one of the guys said as she peered from the window. “We got company,”   All the other guys suddenly took out their guns and pointed the mouths to the door. Violet’s jaw dropped in shock. She had never seen so many guns in one place at a time.    “Guys, they’re cops,” another guy said, trying to diffuse the situation. He was one of the young guys that sat next to Damon the entire night.   “The consigliere’s right, you can’t just shoot at cops,” an older man said.   “So what do you suggest? We just bend over and surrender ourselves?” another guy said. He was the biggest out of everyone, and he looked the angriest.   “Liam, calm down,” Violet heard Damon’s voice spoke. He was in here too. “There’s an exit around here somewhere, we just gotta find it,”   The guys began looking around the room, moving around furniture, and tapping on the walls.    “This is fúcking stupid. The only dude that knows the exit is out cold!” Liam roared again.   Violet realized Dylan must have told them about the secret exit from the staff room, but he passed out before he could tell them where.   “Hey,” Violet found herself saying. “If you’re looking for the exit, you’re looking in the wrong place,”   Everyone stopped moving and turned to Violet. She got up to her feet and walked to the large painting hanging on one side of the wall. She lifted the painting down and revealed a secret door behind it. The door was small, almost like a window, and it would lead them straight to the backside of the parking lot. This was something Danny installed years ago when he was buying into the whole apocalypse bullshit.   Not wasting another minute, the guys opened the door and one by one they slipped right out. Violet stepped aside and watched everyone piling out of the room. Damon was one of the last ones to leave, and he stopped his tracks to talk to her like he wasn’t in a hurry.   “I’ll be sure to return the favor,” he said.   “Don’t worry about it, just go,” she said.   “Oh, no. Damon Van Zandt never forgets,”   Damon left her one last smirk and a nod before finally exiting the room. Once the door was closed behind him, Violet hung the painting back, making sure the exit was completely covered.   * CRASH! *   And suddenly, the door to the staff room was busted open. A half dozen policeman in uniform held their guns up at Violet and she gasped in terror.   “Police! Put your hands up!”    * * *   - - - - - To Be Continued - - - - -    
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