Wanderer of the West

He looked like a tramp. The denim on his legs was worn at the knees, his boots were caked in dust and the dark shirt that clothed his rather well-built torso had seen better days. The sleeves were rolled to the elbow, and there was a pair of cigarette holes on the lower part of it's back. But from a distance -- with dark, curling hair underneath his cowboy hat -- he hardly stood out. He was just another Cowboy Joe that had came in for a drink or four.
Frankie sat at the bar of Raf's saloon, downing whisky with his drinking partner -- an old, rare seven-chambered revolver that was nested by his side. Same story, every town. People called him the wanderer of the west. Drifting from town to town, getting himself involved with other people's problems. And it was always down to a dame.
The place was busy, the usual crowd of cowboys and men rounding up their day, accompanied by pretty saloon girls with big ruffled skirts and feathers in their hair. Forced smiles between the flirting, the girls were all here for one reason or another -- and it wasn't willingly.

Upstairs, there was a knock on the bedroom door. As usual, before an answer was given, the tall owner entered the room. He leaned back against the door until it closed, folding his arms in front of his shirt. "Are you gonna hurry up and get ready, or am I gonna have to start dressing you myself?" Calling the man unpleasant was an understatement -- he was pure filth, a man with no manners. None of the girls liked him, in fact, he was pretty sure that they all despised him and his wandering hands. "Remember this ain't a holiday camp, darlin'. You're here because you got a big debt to pay."
Raf ran a hand through his ever-growing forehead, the start of his hair seeming to move further back with every one of his forty-odd years. "Get those boots on. We got another cowboy sittin' by himself at the bar."

"Mmm..nnn.." Rita, one of the saloon girls tossed and turned in the blankets of her small bed in her even smaller bedroom as the knock came at her door, followed by the swift entry of the bar owner who shut the door behind him, at least thankfully shading off the bright lights of the bar outside the wooden door of her room. The accomodations weren't great but she already owed a lot of money and she had to be thankful for what she had. Sitting up straight and wrapping herself in one of the sheets of the bed to conceal herself from the owner's lustful stare, since she tended to sleep undressed most of the time. "All right, I'm up.." The dark-haired young woman nodded obediently, knowing any backtalk stemming from her dislike of her boss would only earn her a slap in the face or even worse some more unpleasant affair.

"I'll be dressed and downstairs in a few minutes." She said, hoping to warrant his leave so she could get ready. As the owner left at last after a few curious stares, she busied herself with getting dressed, selecting one of many arousing outfits and getting herself ready before leaving her bedroom and going downstairs. Almost immediately finding the cowboy that her boss had said was alone, she sauntered over to the bar and took a seat next to him, mustering her most convincing smile, although on the inside she was far from happy. "Hey there, handsome." She cooed, looking him over with a bit of interest. "I don't think I've seen you around here before, new in town?"

"I'm always new in town." Replied the cowboy, tilting his eyes towards the attractive saloon girl that had just taken a seat next to him. Clearly, she'd been told to keep an eye out for strangers sitting by themselves. "You gonna be keepin' me company tonight, huh? Looks like I got lucky and came in at the right time." He looked over her outfit, almost nodding his head in approval. Eyes drifted from all corners and contours of her figure -- there was no denying that she looked absolutely stunning. As usual, Frankie hadn't bothered to introduce himself yet -- it was a bad habit he'd picked up many years ago.
Knocking back the rest of the whisky, the cowboy stood from his stool and wiped his mouth. "Well, sorry to disappoint you but I'm not gonna be staying here much longer. Got a long, dusty road to be walking down and the last thing I need is to be walking it with a headache in the morning." He smiled, beginning to brush passed her. Raf watched from the side, spying on whether Rita could keep him here for a few drinks more. She knew the consequences if her attempts at flirting failed.

Sighing at his slightly dismissive behavior at her attempts of flirtation, Rita watched for a moment as he brushed by her. Managing to move from her seat, catching a glimpse of Raf watching the two of them, she caught the stranger by the arm as he tried to leave. "But you'll at least be staying the night, won't you?" She said, looking up at him with another smile, trying to keep calm and composed as she spoke, knowing all too well what she faced if this potential customer got away. "You don't want to spend your only night here alone, do you? Because I can be quite good company." The young woman suggested with a wink, but then her expression turned almost pleading, as if begging him with her eyes to take her for the night. "If you stick around you'll find out first hand." She reassured, loosening her hold on his arm, her hand sliding along the muscled limb gently.

Frankie quickly looked down at his arm, the way she held on to it, the tone of her voice. She disguised the sound of pleading well, he couldn't quite place a finger on it yet, but there was something behind those beautiful eyes. Whatever it was, she wanted him to stay. Then she began to stroke his arm, the soft touch of a woman. There was just nothing else like it in the world. "Thanks for the offer." He slowly pulled her hand away from him. "But this time... I'm gonna have to politely decline. Catch you later,
sweetie." He was already regretting his decision, but he'd been in that boat before. Spend a few hours with a woman, get close, then she pulls you in to a world of hurt and hassle.
With that, he was gone. Through the front door, back out in to the cool, summer night. Not a hint of wind. Nothing. Just the calm backdrop around him. Skipping down the small set of stairs, his boots hit dust and his journey was set to continue.
But he couldn't stop thinking about the girl. The way she looked at him, her smile told a different story from her eyes. He recognised that look. Or maybe he was just going mad. Not every girl in his life was like that -- he had to stop making up tragic backstories to the pretty faces he meets.

As soon as Frankie was out the bar, Raf was standing behind the saloon girl and breathing down her neck. His hands pinched her waist lightly, his mouth edging closer to her ear. "Looks like you're losing your spark, Rita. You're suddenly becoming rather useless to me, girl..." Raf's grip tightened, and suddenly he yanked back on a fistful of hair, so the poor woman's head tilted back to look at him. "...what good is a saloon girl if the drinkers don't want to sit with her?"

Her heart sank as the stranger left right through the front door, polite perhaps in his decline of her offer, her disguised desperate plea for him to stay, knowing it spelled doom for her. A quiet sigh escaped her lips and she didn't have to move or even wait long before she felt a large presence behind her, warm breath on her neck, it was undoubtedly Raf. She didn't even have a chance to run or make any kind of movement before his hands grabbed her at the waist, gluing her in place as his mouth neared her ear. His words rattled her spirit and she wanted to just vanish, be anywhere except there in that bar. Before she had been able to escape and lock herself away in her bedroom but this time there was no chance of that. She could only stand there, frozen on the spot as the malicious bar owner kept speaking, words lingering in hear each one more painful than the last.

Rita winced, biting her lip as Raf grasped a fistful of her tightly woven hair, which thankfully when entertaining customers or patrons of the bar she kept up and not down making it somewhat hard to grab and yank on, although this time he was able to grasp a good deal, yanking her head back, straining her neck in the process as she was forced to look upon the man's pitiless face. She wanted to close her eyes and just break into tears but she didn't dare give him that pleasure of getting upset, as much as he was hurting her inside and out.

"Please, I'm sorry, it's not my fault..I tried..please..let me go..." She pleaded with Raf although she knew it was pointless. There was no pity, no remorse, no conscience in this man's heart.

"You sound pathetic, Rita." The handful of hair was released, but he wasn't done with her yet. It was an over-reaction, but because it was Raf -- there was no surprise. Rita... the girls... they all knew what he was like. If he wasn't happy, then the best thing to do would be to stay well clear. Unfortunately for Rita -- she was currently in the worst place possible. "Upstairs, now!" He snapped, his voice still barely above a whisper for no one else to hear but her. Raf lead her upstairs with a combination of pushing and pulling; a few of the girls saw what was going on but quickly turned their attentions back to their partners for the night once they saw Raf glaring back at them.

Up the stairs and away from wandering eyes. The music could still be heard faintly from below, but that was all. The tune of the skilled piano-player still appreciated through the wooden boards. "In there!" Raf snapped, opening the door to her bedroom and literally pushing her in to the room and no doubt causing her great difficulty in keeping her balance. The door closed -- they weren't going to be disturbed. Not that he was going to keep her long. A final warning, that was all. "Rita... you think I'm bad? You ain't seen nothing. Just wait 'til the bosses get a hold of you... entertaining cowboys in the bar is gonna seem like heaven compared to the stuff they're gonna get you to do." A shake of his head. "Maybe I should just send you downstairs naked... serving the drinks... wiggling that little bottom of yours about. Go on. Bend over and give it a shake."

Having little choice in the matter as Raf ordered her upstairs, barely holding back tears of despair now, Rita simply nodded as her hair was released and she traveled up the stairs, led closely by the man who kept shoving and urging her along, as if it helped her go faster. She could only imagine what he had in store for her, but she didn't dare try to figure it out. Usually it was a few slaps, and if she was lucky there would be no bruises, that or a quick romp to sate Raf's lust and to keep her feeling humiliated.

Proceeding to her bedroom as he literally pushed her right in, causing her to stumble a bit but she kept on her feet, but didn't dare to turn or make further movement unless told to do so. His words burned into her mind as her despair grew. She just hoped and prayed her punishment would be swift, and she really hoped Raf didn't hand her over to the bosses. Now girls who were sent to them didn't come back. At his last words she could only obediently nod, bending over near the bed and shaking her rear end, feeling utterly humiliated and defeated.

From behind her came smirking, the man enjoying the sight in front of him. "Yeah... give it a good shake. That's it." With every shake, a footstep grew nearer. The wood below shrieked in pain, a quick noise then it was gone. "Even better... I think I might dangle some bells from that ass... so every time you walk you'll hear it, and remind yourself that you're nothing but piece of worthless meat." Finally, he finished her torment with a hard slap to the right rear cheek, the sting travelling through her clothes and against the skin of her ass. "That's enough. I'm getting bored of you already. One last chance, Rita, and if you turn away one more customer -- I'm feeding you to the wolves. Just like your little friend Jenny. Oh, I hear she's just loving her new life down south." South being where the gang's hideout lay.

By this point, Frankie had returned. It wasn't for a drink. OK, maybe he was going to have one. But he wanted one more look at the saloon girl that had came up to him earlier that night. Where was she? The bartender shrugged his shoulders when he was questioned, even though he had clearly saw the conversation between Rita and Raf a few moments before. The mysterious cowboy sighed, taking a seat closer to the stage where the sound of the piano came from. She was probably upstairs with another customer, pouncing on another as soon as he'd left. That was what the girls were like everywhere, guys like Frankie didn't mean anything to them. He was just a stranger that'd be gone tomorrow.

Rita winced as his rough hand slapped her rear, the malice in his words stinging her as well. She felt disgusted, disgusted by him and how demeaning the things were that he made her do. But it wasn't like she had a choice in the matter. The girl kept quiet, managing a quiet sigh, wishing Raf would just leave her alone. Determined as ever she held back her tears, if she was to try it would not be in his presence. Finally after another moment, glad her torment was over for the moment, Raf left her alone in her bedroom. She could not screw up again, hopefully by now there would be someone downstairs willing to solicite her services. It was the only way to get the debt she had off her back.

Composing herself again within a matter of minutes, rubbing her sore rear end, she left her bedroom and stopped at the stairs, peering over the railing and down at the bar. Then she saw him, the stranger from earlier. Who was he? What was his story? Still it was another chance, and this time she had to be succesful in snaring him. Brushing herself off and looking presentable, Rita sauntered down the stairs attracting some eyes from other customers but for some reason she was drawn to the stranger at the bar. Stepping over to him again and taking a seat, which she couldn't for a moment thanks to Raf's slap on her bottom, she mustered a lustful smile looking over at Frankie with mild interest, at least what it looked to be. "Hey there, Mr. Stranger, change your mind?"

"I guess you could say that. Starting to get dark outside. And let's just say the road ahead ain't too lit for a traveller walking by himself." Frankie turned to look at her again, shifting on the bar stool to almost face her completely this time. "There's a couple of other guys tryin' to get your attention. How come I'm the special one that gets a second chance?" He asked, an eyebrow raised somewhat. Frankie looked over at what appeared to be a man watching the pair. Unknown to him, it was the owner of the saloon -- keeping tabs on her, studying her intensely. Her one, last chance of freedom. Frankie just thought he was some kind of bouncer.

Like always, when it came to a pretty lady, Frankie's eyes began to wander. They lowered to her chest area, albeit for a split second, before travelling further. Down to her legs. One of his favourite parts of a woman's body. And he had to admit, Rita had one of the nicest pair of legs he'd ever laid his eyes upon. "So the offer of keeping me company..." He looked up once more, his hand reaching out to her leg. "...still valid?"

(( Is she wearing any specific kind of clothing, or is it just your typical corset/skirt/stockings/boots saloon girl outfit? ))

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief that the stranger wasn't leaving tonight, this was her second chance that she desperately needed. Out of the corner of her eye Rita noticed Raf watching the two of them again. It made her want to get this guy upstairs quicker, guaranteeing her no more punishment tonight. She kept up her smile as he proceeded to look her over, which she didn't mind one bit, being quite used to it by this time. Then as his hand extended towards her legs that dangled off the barstool, she uncrossed them and let his hand reach her thigh, inviting much more physical contact if he wished, and she needed him to want it.

As his hand reached her leg, making contact, her skin tingled, there was something terribly comforting about his touch. Lifting her gaze to meet his eyes with her own, she actually managed a genuine smile at this turn of events. "It certainly does. What do you say we go upstairs? I have a room we can use."

(( Just wearing what's in the picture I gave, then I suppose stockings and some heels or boots. ))

As Raf saw the hand touch the leg, he had seen enough. He had better things to do than waste his time watching Rita seducing a random, worthless customer. She'd bought herself an extra night, but that was it. She was beginning to crack -- he could see it. Her time was running out, and Rita probably knew that herself. Frankie would soon realise just how much of an important customer he was going to be...

With the owner's eyes now off them, Frankie smirked as she suggested she had a room upstairs. Guess it was more comfortable than sitting on a stool down in the bar area. Ordering one last whisky from the bartender, he quickly drunk the glass and stood up, allowing Rita to lead him to her room. "Lead the way then." The cowboy spoke, removing his hat and holding it by his side.

"Of course." Rita nodded and got to her feet, starting for the stairs assuming he would follow. Things were certainly taking a turn of the better and the pressure was off for the moment. But unless more customers started coming in her days were numbered. She owed a lot of money to a lot of people, and they were some very dangerous characters, that much she knew. If only there was a way to run away from all of it, start fresh in a new place, but the way things were she could not outrun this debt. But she tried not to let these thoughts linger, right now she had to focus on pleasing this stranger.

Reaching the top of the stairs she stepped down the row of doors until they reached her bedroom, and swinging the door open she led him inside, closing the door and locking it securely behind them, so they would not be interrupted. "Please, make yourself comfortable." She suggested, folding her hands neatly in front of her, watching Frankie curiously.

It was hardly the nicest of accommodations, he'd seen cupboards bigger than the bedroom. Not like the owner was going to spend a lot of money on his staff, mind you. They came up here to sleep and sleep with. "It's... a nice place you got here." He wondered how many men she had slept with in that bed, although it'd only be a guess. He hadn't asked her how many years she'd been doing this, or how many customers she had up here a night. It could be hundreds, he could be her first. Nah. She looked like she'd done it many times before.
Tossing his hat to one side, he climbed on to the bed and playfully pulling her down with him. Rita found herself lying on her back, with him lying to the side of her and leaning up on his elbow. "How'd a pretty girl like you end up in a place like this, huh?" He asked, his hand already wandering as he began to speak. His fingertips tickled the front of her stomach, before running down to her stockings and playing with the tops of them. So far, he had no intention of undressing her.

Caught a little off guard by the stranger as he started to settled in and whisked her onto the bed with one swift movement, leaving her on her back as he laid on his side, she kept her composure and offered another smile, though his question caught her by surprise as well. "Well, it's kind of a long story..and I don't like to talk about it." For a regular customer, or so he seemed, this stranger sure did have a lot of questions. A bit curious, indeed. But it was a harmless enough question, and as much as she didn't want to mention it, she decided to open up a little to Frankie.

"Well my father owed the man who owns this place a great deal of money and when he passed away the debt fell onto my shoulders." She explained, managing to tell her story without skipping a detail or looking sad about her plight. "I've been working here to pay it off but so far I've hardly made a dent. The men who come here don't tip well so whatever money I do get to keep isn't much and what goes to the guys in charge isn't much either." Looking up at him as she spoke, her hand lifted to rest against his chest. She felt his hand across her stomach then down to her legs, toying with her stockings. Apparently he didn't want to take things fast.

It wasn't the nicest of stories to listen to, a little tragic. It wasn't her fault that her father had accumulated such vast amounts of debt that he was literally selling his daughter in to a life of slavery. Forced to work as a saloon girl, flirting and doing all sorts of things with random strangers for small amounts of money. How long would it take to pay off her debt? Years? Quite likely, considering she had barely put a dent in the total debt.
He was starting to regret even asking her now, it seemed to put a bit of a downer on the mood. Frankie was quick to change the subject. He sat up, swinging his legs round so they dangled off the bed; his back now to her. "There's one thing you could do for me, actually. My back's been killin' me all week. Think it's all that heavy lifting in the last town I stopped at. You think you can give me a little rub?" Frankie suggested, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it from his figure. On his back were a few scratches -- nothing major, but it had been an indication that he'd had a couple of nasty falls or fights a long time ago. Then again, it was a common feature on any cowboy's body. Drunken bar fights. They were all the same.

She was a bit exasperated from telling her story as well, but Rita was glad once he quickly changed the subject. It was a bit puzzling as he suddenly rolled onto his stomach, but she understood why once he made the request of her. "Yes, of course." The girl nodded and moved off her back to sit beside Frankie, rubbing her hands together to give them a bit of warmth before moving them to his back, which for the most part was surprisingly smooth aside from the occasional scar her fingers ran over. She started high at his shoulders and neck where she could feel most of the tension was before moving down to his sides then his lower back. Occasionally when she came across a scar she would trace over it curiously with her finger, wondering how he might have gotten it. Rita stayed quiet for the most of the time, but after a few moments of silence she spoke up again.

"You sure have a few scars back here? I assume from fights or things of that nature?" She said, it was the only thing in way of conversation she could think to ask. Usually customers didn't talk much but this guy sure had a lot to say, and to ask.

"Something like that." Frankie spoke, his eyes closed, rather enjoying the massage she was giving. He almost felt himself drifting away because of how peaceful it was -- he was sure it would probably be a first for her... the customer falling asleep before anything serious happened!
Frankie's eyes opened, however, and he used this opportunity to look around her room a little more. Nothing of interest really grabbed his attention, although the saloon girl's story did make him wonder if the other girls were in the same boat. Paying off debts, whored out for the rest of their youthful lives. "Mmm... you're good at that. Softest fingers I've ever come across. I'd walk through a cactus field to get another massage like this." He wasn't sure how long Rita had been giving him a well-earned rub, but he called it a day eventually.

Then he said something that would probably take her by surprise. Rolling on the bed, Frankie lay on his back and flipped a coin in to the air before catching it. "I ain't interested in fuckin' ya." His eyes turned to hers, yet still played with the coin. "All I need is a bed until morning. And maybe a nice, pretty girl to cuddle up with me."

Rita certainly was surprised to find out that this man was not interested in soliciting her services or making use of her company, except solely for a backrub and a bed to sleep in. And she was a bit taken aback, unsure of how to take his words. His compliments for what she had done were certainly made her feel appreciated, but him not being interested in sleeping with her just didn't quite make sense to her. Honestly, she wouldn't have minded if he had wanted to, he had in course of their short time together, with his kindess, won her over. Certainly he made better company than other men who visited the bar before and that she had the displeasure of sleeping with. As he turned onto his back her eyes met with his as she looked down at him and he looked up at her. Taking a moment to let his word sink in, she simply nodded, mustering a smile.

"Is that so? Well I suppose that is not out of the question, although highly unorthodox." She murmured, shifting a little on the bed while still not laying down just yet. "If you're sure, a good night's rest would probably do me so good as well." Moving now to lift off some of the blankets before slipping into bed beside Frankie, she eased close to him, her head resting a little against his chest, resting a hand there as well as her arm draped over him. Closing her eyes although still away she laid close to him, comforted by his company and presence.

Frankie had the ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. In this case, it happened even quicker than normal. Perhaps it was lying there, with the comforting bodyheat of his female companion. The music from down below didn't bother him in the slightest, and as the remainder of the bar seemed to continue partying through the duration of the night -- keeping some of the girls up until about 4 or 5 in the morning -- Frankie was oblivious to it all.

However, almost like a snake, he had disappeared before the saloon girl's slumber finished. His shirt and hat gone, the only proof of his existence came in the form of some coins he'd left to cover the hiring of her 'services'.
As usual, her alarm clock came in the form of the bar owner, Raf, who had marched in to the bedroom about an hour after Frankie had vacated the bed and left. His usual heavy footsteps had been replaced by softer ones for a change, so as not to wake her up before her sat at the edge of her bed. She looked so peaceful -- with a smile on her lips that he had never seen her with before.
"Rita..." His fingers gently stroked her cheek, in the way a man would caress his lover. "...You're such a good girl, aren't you? Keeping that cowboy here all night... good girl. And he paid more than your usuals do as well." He spoke to her with no respect, as if she were nothing but a dog he kept as a pet. "I think that deserves a reward, don't you?" A horrible smirk appeared. "And that means you're the lucky girl that gets to suck me off this morning. Give me a smile. Go on... tell me how much you love to gag on my massive cock."

Rita had drifted off a short time after Frankie, her evening a bit more pleasant than usual. The usual noises of the bar in the night did little to disturb her sleep this time. But what she did not expect was for him to leave so soon, and without managing to wake her. Although at first she was not aware of his disappearance from the bed until she was stirred from her sleep by quiet, yet undiscernable words, and the gentle touch of fingers against her soft cheek. She made out a voice but nothing else, wondering if it was who she wanted it to be. But opening her eyes finding herself alone in the bed aside from Raf sitting on the edge, her dream was dashed but she mustered a pleasant smile, as if she would ever be glad to see him...and this early in the morning.

"Raf.." She murmured, rubbing her eyes and sitting up in bed. "Where is the man I was with last night? Did he say anything? Leave anything for me?" She said hopefully, although with most customers she would not have asked these sort of things. But then she saw the twisted smirk upon his face and her smile diminished a little. "W-Why are you here so early, might I ask?" She wondered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her eyes, her hair still done up in an ornate style though a little messied from sleeping with it that way.

"The man you were with last night is long gone. Had his fun and left." The owner was a little taken aback by her interest in him, especially with her questions about saying anything or leaving anything for her. What did she expect him to leave? Money? Raf shuffled on the bed a little further. "I'm here because I wanted to have a quiet chat with you without any of the other girls listening. I think you're losing your touch, Rita. You're not forceful enough with customers. Letting them slip through your fingers all too often." It was a complete over-exaggeration, the amount of customers that Rita let get away wasn't anywhere near as bad as he was making it out to be. Sure, perhaps in the last few weeks she hadn't brought as many men up to her room as Raf would have liked -- but it was all done to luck. Some days, she'd get good customers. Some days, not.

"I think your mind's gettin' distracted, darling. I can't have that. I ain't gonna make money if you're not begging these cowboys to stay for a few hours more."

"Well I'm trying as hard as I can, Raf. So I don't know what to tell you." Rita said calmly, knowing if she got fussy, pushy, or even remotely argumentative with him that he could and would make her life even more of a living hell than it already was. With severe punishments most of the time it wasn't exactly easy for her to remain anywhere content working for him. "If you're not happy with the way I work customers maybe you should find someone else?" She dared to say, biting her lip and praying he wouldn't think she was being insubortinate. "I got that guy last night to stay, didn't I? He came back because of me, you know." She said, pushing the issue harder with him.

"If you think I'm losing my touch, why don't you let me go? You know half the customers wouldn't come in unless it was to see me. I'm the best girl you've got." She went on to say, although she tried not to sound too high and mighty with her words. As Raf edged closer to her on the bed she got a little nervous, wondering what he might do next.

"Best girl I've got, eh? I used to think that." Raf knew he was just trying to cause trouble more than anything else, so-far unsuccessfully trying to get a reaction out of her. Something to justify him punishing her. Rita was doing good just now, but he knew she'd crack eventually. Raise her voice, cry, something like that. "Does that make you proud, my little Rita?" His hand stroked her face once more. "Being such a good whore that you keep having men come back to you?" The stroke turned to a grab, and his fingers clutched her jaw. "Show me how much of a good whore you can be, Rita. Show me that you're still the best girl I've got."

He began to expose himself to her when a knock came at the door, frustrating him greatly. "What the hell you banging on that door for...! Who's that?!"
A female voice was on the other end of the conversation. "Raf... there's a guy here to see you. Says he's a good friend of yours -- come to pick up the silver." The silver was in reference to the money earned brought in by the saloon, and the man the voice spoke about was one of the gang's errand boys.
"OK... OK... God damn it, bitch." Raf muttered the last bit to himself, re-fastening his trousers and standing up. "Don't think for a minute you've dodged this bullet, Rita. I'll be back later. You better get yourself cleaned and lookin' pretty for your loyal customers downstairs." With that, the frustrated bar owner left the room and slammed the door behind him to meet with the errand boy.