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The Captive (sispuppet and Bella)

LaBellaMia

LaBellaMia

Star
Joined
Jan 22, 2014
Location
East Coast, USA
1925 - New York

Patrick O'Neill owned one of the best speakeasies this side of the Manhattan river. Night after night, filled to the brim with men and women coming to drink liquor, gamble and listen to the best singers that money could buy. He was a sophisticated man and one of the worst crime bosses in the whole city. His hands were in the pockets of elected officials, police officers and simple crooks. He had no wife (she, having died years ago in childbirth) and only a string of mistresses but the light of his life was in the form of one Erin O'Neill. Sixteen with dark red hair and bright blue eyes, she was the only thing that was important to him. He had kept her sheltered from the life he led in the city's underbelly, spoiled her and treated her like a princess, intent upon keeping her safe and usually that meant keeping her locked up in his penthouse apartment or having her heavily guarded when she went out.

Something Erin loathed even if she didn't understand. Sitting at the window, the sixteen year old watched her father getting dressed and sighed before looking down at her book and then she closed it. "Can't I go tonight daddy?" she asked, looking up at him and then sliding off of her seat, walking toward him and hugging his waist. "Please?" she asked. "Come on it's just one party...I'm sixteen...plenty of girls my age get to go..." she said, pouting up at him. The man just chuckled and shook his head, hugging her back. He was a handsome man in his mid fifties with salt and pepper black hair and blue eyes. Most of the time, those blue eyes were as cold as ice but they always looked warmly down on her.

"No Erin. You'll be staying home. I already told you, a club is no place for a pretty lass like you...Don't give me trouble," he said then grabbed his hat, tucking it over his head and then kissed her cheek. "I'll be back home after a while. Behave yourself," he ordered then walked out the door, whispering something to one of of the bodyguards he always had on hand for her before leaving. Frowning, she turned from the door and slipped back onto her seat by the window, gazing out and giving a sigh. It wasn't fair being kept up here, trapped all the time. It was awfully boring and the streets of New York couldn't be that dangerous. He had always kept her under lock and key, saying she needed protection but he never specified what sort of protection that was and from what. Looking at the street below as it bustled with cars, she stole a glance at the man by the door and then back out again, a plot formulating in her mind. Smiling, she got up, grabbing her book and moving to her large bedroom before shutting the door behind her to prepare for her escape.

It was close to eight in the evening, the night already upon them and Erin found herself slipping out of her window onto the fire escape. She slowly closed her window and then took a deep breath. It was eight stories down the stairs but she was determined. Dressed in a nice black dress hidden under a long dark coat, she made her way down the steps, being ever so careful to not make a loud noise. Down she went, slow and steady until reaching the bottom and city street. Grinning at her ability to sneak out, she quickly started down the street, losing herself amidst the crowd, for once feeling more freedom than she could ever remember. Her dad thought she wasn't old enough to take care of herself but she was going to prove him wrong when she showed up at his club without an escort and tell him how she'd managed to cross the city without issue. So she walked and made her way toward the club, crossing streets and then entering the alleyway so close to the speakeasy her father owned. She was half-way down it, her shoes clicking against the street, when she heard noise behind her and turned. Looking around in the dim light she didn't find anything to rouse suspicion so she turned back around and continued her walk over the cobblestone.

Suddenly large arms reached out from the surrounding blackness and then gripped themselves around her and Erin screamed only for her mouth to be covered by a cloth that was doused in some sort of liquid. When she inhaled, it burned her lungs but then she felt her consciousness fading and everything went dark.

How long she was out, she didn't know but when she woke up, her coat was gone and she was laying on a small bed in a small room with no windows and a single door. A lamp was on by the bed but that was about the only source of light she had. Erin found her head pounding and her mouth dry and when she sat up, she felt dizzy. Realization of how she came to be here caused her to panic and she slipped off the bed, making a run for the door and trying to open it but it was locked from the outside. Huffing, she slammed her whole body against it as an attempt to break it down but being so petite it didn't even cause anything to move though it did create a lot of noise. She frowned, determined, slamming into it again but found that it was useless. Erin reached up to her hair to find a pin but her hair was completely loose at this point and all the pins she normally had within those dark red strands were gone, as was any chance of her picking the damned lock. Someone must of realized she would try and took them as a means to keep her locked in.

Sinking down to her knees, she glanced into the keyhole but didn't see anything but darkness. Cursing under her breath, she gave another futile attempt at the locked door and jiggled it to no avail. All thoughts froze when she heard male laughter and heavy footsteps and she darted back from the door and swallowed hard, realizing all to late how she should of listened to her father.
 
A tall, fit man sat patiently waiting on a car facing the apartment of Patrick O’Neil. Craig Magee could be considered an intimidating man by most standards. The 27 year old stood tall at a few inches over six feet. His dark green eyes looked focused and fierce, and his red hair was accompanied with by a small fiery mane. His black suit stretches as he hunches over, covering the match he lights with a hand to protect it from the wind as he lights his cigarette. Tonight was meant mainly as surveillance so he could figure out his plan of action. He owns a couple of modest sized speak easies himself. His customers were few but loyal, and the small group of men working for him could be trusted well enough to do their jobs while he was out. Patrick had just left to go to his club, and it took Craig every ounce of his own resolve to not follow the man. No, he had a plan that would hit his employer far harder than any punch.

Craig had joined Patrick’s operation for the same reason any kid would. It was easy work that paid better than running errands for someone on the level. It had some glamour to it too, working right under the nose of the cops. His job was simple enough. He drives down to the bootleggers, picks up the crates, and drops them off at the speakeasy. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that he realized he was being had. He was getting paid worse than most other workers, and getting set up as a fall guy. If he got caught by the bulls, then he’d be done for. When he tried to confront Patrick, he got a black eye and a boot to the ass by some enforcers for his trouble. He wasn’t about to snitch either, no, he was doing things the only way he could. Now here he was, a few years later, and he still wanted to get back at the man. Beating Patrick in business wasn’t going to happen. Craig’s tiny places couldn’t compete, and if they started to, then he’d find a couple of paid off cops on his ass, or his buildings up in smoke. No, he had to hit the man where it hurt the most.

It was no mystery that the mob boss cared more about his daughter than anything else in the world. He was a “good catholic man” who put family above everything else. It was enough to make Craig laugh. Good Catholic men didn’t take people for a ride if they were skimming from the top. Craig takes a long drag from his cigarette. If he had a couple of other guys with him, then it’d be easy work getting the girl. The two bodyguards wouldn’t stand a chance in an ambush, and she wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight herself. He didn’t have guys to spare though, and besides. The less people who knew about it, the less it could blow up in his face. He yawns, flicking his ciggy to the ground and is ready to head back when something catches his eyes. It seemed like his plan was going ahead of schedule.

The man follows behind Erin in his car, keeping enough distance between them to keep from being noticed. He figures out where she’s going quickly enough. Was she trying to show off to her old man? Seeing her duck into an alleyway, he quickly pulls over in a dark corner before getting the things ready. Catching the girl is easier than he expected. The little bearcat tries to put up a fight, but what could she hope to do against a man in peak physical condition? She stops struggling as the cloth covers her mouth. He hurries back to the car, his eyes on a constant look out as he drops her off in the backseat and hurries back to his place. He has his friend, Little Jimmy get her moved in. The behemoth of a man is the only other person in on the plan at the moment. He wouldn’t go flapping his gums to any cops, and his size would scare anyone out of asking too many questions.

Getting the girl into the room he’d been preparing, Craig takes off her coat and smile. She didn’t look like no good little Catholic girl in that black dress. Well, he’d be thorough in finding out just how religious she was. He leaves the room, locking it behind him before heading up to the speakeasy. He tells everyone that they had to scram. The shop was closing early today. It wasn’t that strange. Early closings happened if they thought the bulls might be coming by. The people there finish off their drinks, and head out. Once it’s clear, Craig heads back down with Little Jimmy, laughing at how well it all worked out. “You stay upstairs, keep an eye out for me.” He tells his friend, who nods, staying with him until Craig is in the room.

Unlocking the door, Craig steps in, Little Jimmy’s large frame keeping Erin from being able to escape through him. The door is locked again, the key placed in his breast pocket before Craig makes his way to a chair. He sits down and lights a cigarette, smiling as he looks Erin up and down. “Having fun, lass?” He asks her, chuckling as he takes a drag, exhaling the smoke into the room. “Might as well get comfortable. Your old man’s not gonna be home tell early the next morning, you see? Those saps aren’t gonna check on you either. No way your old man would let them sneak a peek. They’ll probably end up bumped off anyways though.” He taps off the ashes in a tray on the table before leaning back. He holds the pack open for her, offering a ciggy. “Want one? He asks? You thirsty, hungry?” He asks in a polite tone, prepared to get her just about anything she wants. Except for leaving, of course.
 
As he entered, Erin stepped back once more. The dress she wore wouldn't be considered inappropriate at all. It fit her frame nicely and had off the shoulder sleeves and a longer skirt than most girls wore, nearly to her ankle. After all, a lot of young women were wearing those short skirts and going without corsets or braziers. She wasn't like those women that her father referred to as floozies and society called flappers. As the man started to light up and offered her a ciggy, she shook her head. "No...I don't want anything except for you to let me go," she said simply, scrunching up her nose at the acrid smell of the smoke. Even her father's pipe aggravated her nostrils and this cigarette was no exception. "But I'm guessing you won't...listen he'll pay you anything you want...really he will..." she promised. That much was true. "And daddy doesn't bump people off. The only thing he does that is illegal is buying and selling bootlegged liquor," she said, not taking kindly to the man before her saying that her guards would be killed. Her father wasn't so cruel and heartless. He was a good man.

She was completely unaware of his dark side, of his greed, and thirst for power. She didn't know that he killed someone at least once a week if they crossed him the wrong way and that he basically controlled the police in their district. To her, her dad was a great man who attended church with her on Sundays and gave plenty to the church and had taught her how to be proper and good. He was the best man she had ever met and she only ever hoped to one day have a husband as good as her father was. Caring and kind and protective. She certainly regretted her sin. She'd disobeyed her father and now God had seen fit to punish her for it with this. She just hoped that he would also bring her salvation and her father before this man could do anything to her. "It's money you want isn't it?" she asked, thinking that would be the only reason he would bring her here. "He'll give you what you want I swear it, just let me go and I'll have him pay you anything you want. Please just let me go home..." she whispered softly.
 
Craig shrugs his shoulders and puts the pack away while continuing to smoke his own. He notices that she doesn't seem to like the smoke too much. Maybe later he'd worry about not bothering her with it too much, but he wasn't going to let this one go to waste. He leans back once again, blowing the smoke out before breaking into laughter at what Erin tells him. "What, you think I'm gonna take some wooden nickels?" He asks her. "Yeah, your old man's give me the green. Then one day I'll be walking down the street when I get pulled in for a ride, and end up sleeping with the fishes. Cash don't do me any good when I'm dead."

Of course she wouldn't know about the things her dad does. He doesn't go around advertising it, and plays himself off as some good old church going man who's just providing a service to the people. "Sure thing lass, he don't kill no one, like you said. Still, you ever stop to think that it ain't money I want?" He asks before standing up and putting the chair back where it had been. His eyes roam up and down her slender body, making no attempt to hide the wolfish look he's giving her. Craig puts out the cigarette and starts to walk around the young woman.

Oh, she was a real beauty, there was no denying that. Hell, he'd want a shot at her even if it wouldn't get back at her dad. Nothing beat a beautiful Irish lass, especially a young innocent one like her. "No, I make decent money as it is. Not as much as your old man, but we can't all have the Bulls working for us, keeping an eye off the operation. I make enough not to need you for ransom though" He says, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair as he walks around the girl, stopping in front of her. It was true, he wasn't after Patrick's money. No, he wanted everything the man had. "What I want lass, is you."
 
Her eyes widened at the remark and she stepped back from him. "Well you'll not be having me," she said stiffly. "In any way shape or form so you had best get the thought out of your demented skull," she said coarsely, pressing against the wall. "Can't you just let me go. I don't know your name I won't breath a word to da, just let me go and no one will be the wiser. He'll have all of New York looking for me. I'm sure he'll find me before you can dare touch me," she said defiantly, her dander certainly up at this point. She shoved him back, the infamous Irish temper in full swing. "Don't you lay a hand on me...I don't want your touch...I want to go home. Take me home," she ordered, shoving at him again before glaring. It was a mixture of anger and fear that was driving her to shove him back. Surely he didn't want to have carnal relationship with her. That was the greatest sin she could think of. Fornication wasn't allowed at all. Only sex after marriage vows. It was one of the things she herself was fervent about and for this man to kidnap her just to bed her was without a doubt the lowest thing she could think of save murder.

"I'm going to rot before I let you touch me..." she swore. "Now...give me my coat and leave me alone if you aren't going to free me," she ordered him and then stepped back, crossing her arms over herself, clutching her necklace with it's hanging crucifix, offering up a soft prayer to the saints for the ability to keep her wits. She didn't dare take her eyes off him however. She didn't trust him at all.
 
Craig shrugs his shoulders, not surprised at the girl giving him the icy mitt. She was supposed to be a good church going girl after all. Her dad would have raised her up thinking that sex wasn't something fun for women. It was just for giving her husband kids. She'd be surprised to see how most "good Catholic" men spent their time when they weren't drinking. "Didn't think a girl in her glad rags could be such a wet blanket." He mutters to himself. The girl looked disgusted and frightened, which was enough to make him back off a bit. He wouldn't push things, especially if he wanted this to work out. He needed her to come to him.

"Sorry lass, I'll get you your coat, but you won't be goin. Your dad can look all he wants, but ain't no one even knew you were heading to the juice joint. How hard you think most of them are gonna look for a moll anyways?" He leaves her to think about that, getting through the door without opening too wide and immediately locking it behind him while he heads back upstairs. Craig heads to his little kitchen and cooks up some sausage and potatoes in a pot. When it's ready, he puts it on a tray with some water, figuring that she wouldn't be too keen on any other drink he gives her.

Little Jimmy comes back downstairs, opening the door to Erin's room and locking it behind his friend once Craig is inside. The man walks over to the table, putting down the platter before taking a seat. He pours a bit of whiskey for himself before spooning the food into a plate for Erin, and one for him. "I know I don't have this place ain't that swanky, but the food's good." He tells her, taking a bite of sausage to prove that it's safe to eat.
 
As he disappeared, the reality of his words sank in and she bit her bottom lip, sinking down on the small bed and closing her eyes. Crying wouldn't do her much good but she wanted to have one all the same. All to late, she regretted not listening to the man that had sired her and her foolishness had gotten her in more trouble than what she had been in before. He would find her though. Of that she was certain. Hopefully before the man put his grubby hands on her.

At the sound of footsteps, Erin turned, watching him enter with food and water and stiffened as he moved to sit down at the small table, offering her the food. It smelled good and her stomach growled at the idea of eating and she wasn't so prideful that she would refuse food. Even so, she cautiously sank down across from him and slowly grabbed the fork. "I don't understand," she said after a moment.

"I don't understand why you would take me and bring me here. Have you ever heard of courting someone? If you want me so bad, why wouldn't you try to court me proper instead of holing me up here...." She frowned at him, still not touching her food and trying to figure hm out but she might as well be watching paint dry. Looking down, she gripped her fork tighter. "I just don't understand your reasoning...and why you won't let me go. The longer I stay here, I will be ruined. I want a husband and children one day and by keeping me here, you will ruin any chance I have of getting that..." She said, her voice tinged with anger still but she kept herself calm.
 
Craig considers how to answer the question very carefully. In the end, he goes the route of a half truth in his reply. " Grabbing you, well, I wasn't actually planning on doing that. I didn't really think it through." Which was admittedly what had happened. Even now, he was playing it all by the ear. "Courting you isn't so easy. Your old man, he doesn't even let guys look at you. How you think he'd act if someone said they wanted to put a handcuff on ya. Believe me lass, you're a catch for any guy. So why not me?" He shrugs his shoulders and eats a bit more of the food. "I can't let you know cause you'll tell your dad. Go ahead, tell me you won't, but I ain't no sap. You get out, you snitch, and I'm fish food." He tells her, draining his glass and putting it down.

Of course she'd be worried about her virtue. That was the whole point of it though, wasn't it? "Don't you worry about that." That's all he says about that, not wanting to push things. He knows there won't be much in the way of conversation now though and continues eating in silence. Once the meal is finished, he gets up and takes the platter, leaving only the whiskey and the water behind for Erin before knocking on the door. "Sleep tight lass. I'll check on ya in the morning." He tells her, heading out and once again locking the door. Things would be slow, he knows, and he isn't going to push it. As long as it takes, he would come out on top.
 
"But I won't tell him," Erin protested, looking at him but it seemed she wasn't going to get far begging him for release. After he left, she frowned, throwing the flask at the door and then huffing as she moved to sit back on the bed. With her coat clutched in her arms, she curled up on the bed, feeling tears come to her eyes before sleep finally overtook her.

She woke the next morning to the sound of the door opening and a big fellow entering with food and a parcel. "Boss says eat your breakfast and dress," he said and was gone before she could breathe a word. Looking at the plate of eggs and sausage, she quickly got up to eat, being quite unladylike about it and then walked to the parcel, untying the string and brushing aside the brown paper before seeing a pretty white blouse and blue skirt. Taking a glance at the door, she swiftly took off the dress she wore, slipping on the blouse and skirt with matching belt before smoothing it out. It was a nice outfit, simple and pretty and suited her figure just fine. After putting on the boots, she turned toward the door again and heard the footsteps.

As the large man appeared again, she stood up. He didn't breathe a word this time, only came toward her, wrapping a scarf around her eyes and completely blocking her vision. "What's this for?" She asked.

"We are leaving. Boss doesn't want ye to have a looksie around," the man shrugged. She nearly grinned, was he letting her go after all? The thought made her giddy and she willingly walked with the large man down a hall and some stairs before taking a few turns. A door opened somewhere and she could hear the bustle of the streets of New York. A car door opened and she climbed in with help from the man to get footing then heard the door shut. Alone, she quickly took off the blindfold only to find herself in complete darkness. As though she were in the back of a laundry truck. Getting up, she pushed at the door but it only opened from the outside, leaving her trapped. She felt and heard the engine kick to life and then the vehicle was moving, causing her to sit back on the bench, and just wait until they stopped.

The ride was long and the bustle of city life soon faded, leaving her wondering as to where she was beng taken. It must of taken nearly two hues before the vehicle stopped and the engine was cut. As someone unlocked the door, she winced at the bright light that flooded into the darkness and then saw her captor. Frowning, she stepped out of the vehicle, glancing around and realizing they were at a house in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woods and a garden. "You sorry man. You...where..." She glared at him, ready to knock him into next week for all he had done to her. "How could you! How could you bring me here! I thought you were taking me home!"
 
Craig sleeps uneasily through the night. He heard the flask slam against the door, and even heard the Erin attempt to hide her crying, but it shouldn’t have been stuff that bothered him. This was all for the plan, he reminded himself. She wouldn’t get hurt, and if everything went right, she’d probably end up enjoying it. Arrangements had already been made, so they’d be able to head out in the morning. The doll really was a beauty. Who could blame him for actually wanting her? Draining a large cup of whiskey, he lays down and closes his eyes in an attempt to force himself to sleep.

Breakfast is handled quickly. Figuring she might take to the food better if someone else brought it, he had Jimmy take it to her. He figured her size easily enough too. The coat would have to be left behind, just in case anyone knew what to look for. Erin is taken to the back where Craig had a large truck set up to hide her in. He rides ahead in his own car, leaving Jimmy to follow behind. They get out of the city and head down to Craig’s old family home. No one lived there now, but it still technically belonged to him. Parking his car and tucking the key away safely, he goes to open the door and let Erin out.

“Well now why would I do that? I just told ya last night that I can’t do that. You alright in the head?” He asks before stepping aside. His gun stays tucked and hidden inside his suit. No need to scare the girl if it wasn’t necessary. With Jimmy standing on the other side of her, they walk over to the house. There’s a rope swing hanging off a tree, a small lake located nearby, and nothing else for miles around. It was total privacy. “This is a nice place. It’s no ritzy apartment, but you can’t beat the view.” He says as they go inside. He walks over to the master bedroom and stops. “This one’s yours.” He says, figuring she’d like the extra space at least. Anything that could be used as a weapon had been taken out. Even the only glass in the room was the mirror and the windows.

“Don’t go getting any funny ideas.” Craig says. “No one’s around for a while. Sides, what do you think will happen if some guys catch a choice bit of calico like you? Just sit tight here and you’ll be fine.” He then goes on to explain the setup of the house. She could raid the kitchen if she got hungry, but knives and forks were kept in his room. There was no telephone, and if he caught her trying to run away or attack him, then he’d lock her away in her bedroom. “If you need anything other than getting let go, just say the word baby. I’ve got some books if you wanna read, and I could get you a suit if you want to hop in the lake.” He doubted that would be happening anytime soon, but it was something fun to consider.
 
"I'm not a baby," she said, her pert nose wrinkling in distaste at the pet name. Erin glanced around before looking back at him. "I think I'll keep my clothes on thanks very much and I don't know how to swim anyway...if this is the way you are wanting to sweep me off my feet, you're doing it completely wrong. Nothing says romance like kidnapping and being held in some country cabin so far away from civilization away from everyone and their mother. You are the world's worst at charming someone. Maybe you should look into chivalry or I dunno, asking a woman what she wants instead of just deciding for her. Because I don't see me falling for your charms when you're holding me for all intents and purposes as your prisoner...." She huffed and then crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not some chippy and your entire scheme is positively dumb, much like you I expect," she said then took a deep breath. "I'm going to make your life hell until you decide to take me back to me da," she said then glared at him before walking away from him, making her way outside, standing out in the yard and kicking her feet at the dirt, and just trying to decide what to do. Running away would be pointless. She didn't know where she was and he was right about the fact that some man would see her as quite a lovely target. She'd always been warned by the people from the church and her father how evil a man's thoughts could be.

Did her captor have those evil thoughts? Erin glanced back at the house and then at the woods and lake, walking down toward the water and sinking down on the bench to watch the water. The worst part was that she didn't even know his name. The mysterious and unfortunately handsome man. Lord help her but she did think he was a looker, even if he was a kidnapping fiend. What was his end game anyway? She didn't understand. He hadn't done anything untoward except kidnap her and had respected a distance. He blamed her over-protective father for these measures and made allusions to being bumped off but her father wouldn't kill him. Probably a good paste to the pan but nothing especially horrible. Her father wasn't a mobster or anything like that. He just ran an illegal liquor business and he was one of quite a few, that was for sure. Hugging herself, she sank back against the bench and closed her eyes, feeling uncertain of her situation and wishing she could return back to the world she knew.
 
Craig smiles and chuckles at Erin’s little outburst. Back under the little speakeasy of his, he didn’t want to push too hard, but now that they were out in the country, with no company anywhere near them, he was able to relax and make himself more comfortable. “Whatever you say doll.” He tells her in response to being told not to call her baby. He lets her rant on a bit more about how bad he is at courting someone if he had to kidnap them instead of just going about it the traditional way. He shrugs his shoulders. “I dunno, just the two of us out on our own, that looks pretty romantic to me.” He tells her, but the girl is already through with her yelling and storming outside. He’s not too worried. Erin never walked more than a few blocks on her own. She wouldn’t be able to get far.

He leaves her alone for a bit, getting the stove lit and starting dinner before going outside. He looks around and easily spots her sitting on the bench. Taking another cigarette out, he lights it up and slowly makes his way over, taking a seat next to Erin. He stares out at the sun starting to set. It hadn’t even been a day yet since he took her, but he knew Patrick would already have all his men looking for her. He can’t resist chuckling at that. The guy wouldn’t even have his bars open. Every single person that works for him would be on the lookout for the beautiful ginger lass sitting next to him. All those lost profits would be a nice extra blow to his former employer. “Ah, don’t worry doll. I wasn’t laughing at you.” He tells her, leaning back on the bench and stretching his arm out, laying it down behind her.
 
As he came to sit beside her, chuckling as he did, she frowned and slid to the farthest side of the bench as he stretched his arm behind her. "Oh...what has you laughing so then?" She asked, glancing at him and then looking back at the water. She didn't know how long she had been sitting out here and didn't really care. It kept her away from him. Now he seemed intent upon settling right beside her. "I have a name you know," she told him, frowning and then fixed the skirt so it wasn't wrinkled. "Though I don't know yours...you haven't exactly been in the spirit of giving as much information as you seem to know of me. So what is your name?" She asked him gently. "Or maybe I will just call you smoke-eater," she said smartly then looked away blowing out a breath.

Erin returned her gaze to the water and then bit her bottom lip. "If I could think of something more insulting I would," she promised him, keeping him as far from her on the bench as she could though that didn't give her much room.
 
Craig looks down at the cigarette in his hand and laughs again. “Ma used to hate this stuff too, said no one could smoke em in the house. I don’t see what the harm is though.” He tells her before taking a long drag of it. “Nah, smoke eater is a good name. Stick with it. Maybe I’ll tell you mine if you ask for it nicely, Erin.” He tells her, dropping the ciggy to the ground and stomping it out. Seeing the girl pushing herself away to the very edge of the bench, Craig just smiles and slides over until he’s right next to her.

His arm comes down on Erin’s shoulder, wrapping around it and pulling her tightly to him so that her head ends up against his chest. As she tries to pull away, he shakes his head. “Keep your eyes out there doll. The sunset ain’t gonna be something you wanna miss.” He warns her as he stares off at it. Sure enough, the sun comes down on the horizon, the orange glow filling the tree line. “Now don’t tell me that don’t look romantic.” He whispers, his hand rubbing her shoulder softly. “It’s the second most beautiful thing I’ve looked at today.” He adds, winking at the girl in his arm.
 
Erin stiffened when he moved to her and kept her close. Her whole body was as stiff as wood at his touch and the way he kept her pinned to his frame. She felt small and fragile compared to him, much as she did when her father hugged her. Her hope was to have a growth spurt because she was much to small and petite. Though if anything, she would be just like her mother. A picture of her parents when they were newly wed showed that her mother had scarcely reached her father's shoulder. Begrudgingly, the teenager focused her eyes on the sunset, figuring that trying to escape his grip was futile. It was a pretty sunset to be sure.

Orange, pink and purple hues in the sky, sunlight reflecting over the water. As the sun disappeared beneath the water's surface and he spoke, she lifted her head and looked at him. Seeing him wink. She blushed, warmth flooding her body and she sat up slowly, disentangling herself from him. "You don't mean that....are you going to tell me your name? For your end game, it certainly is a strip in the right direction," she said, her voice soft.
 
Craig lets Erin pulling away, knowing better than to push it. "Of course I do. I don't think I've seen many sights prettier than you, maybe even none at all." He tells her with a laugh. Once again, she's asking him for his name. He shakes his head at her insistence. She was a stubborn one. Good thing he liked stubborn girls. "I thought you'd just be calling me smoke eater." He teases before scratching his beard. "You know, if I tell you my name, then I really can't let you go. I'd have to be a sap to do that." He shrugs his shoulder. It was a step in the right direction as she said.

"The name's Craig." He tells her, turning to face Erin properly so he could look into her eyes. "Craig Magee, don't go gabbing to your old man now. I like living." He sits back, knowing by the look he gets that she doesn't believe him. "You really think your pa is just some bootlegger, don't you? You think you'd have that swanky apartment in downtown, and he'd be able to get those guards, keep the Bulls off him, and have the biggest speakeasy in the city if all he did was make some hooch? There's things you don't know about your old man, doll. If you did, then they'd make you feel safer with me."
 
Erin looked at him. "Don't....don't do that. Do not tell me about my father, do not try to make him out to be this monster. My da is overprotective but he is a good man. He has always protected me, and the only thing he does illegally is run his booze. He isn't some violent mobster. He goes to church, he donates money to the church, he...he isn't bad or evil..." She shook her head and then turned away. "I'm going inside....you can rot for all I care," she said then stood up and walked into the house. It was to quiet here. There was no loud music, no sound of people or cars. Just crickets and cicadas chirping. As she entered the house, the smell of dinner caught her nose and hunger won out over storming upstairs to the room she was given. Entering the kitchen, she saw a large pot on the stove bubbling with a thick and hearty stew. Mutton, carrots, celery and potatoes in a thick gravy that smelled positively delicious.

Opening a cupboard, she discovered a few bowls and grabbed one then found a spoon in some drawer. After fixing a bowl, she settled at the small kitchen table and closed her eyes. She had to find a way back home, away from this man who had taken her captive. Especially before he tried to bed her.
 
Craig raises his hands in defeat. "Whatever you say doll." He tells her. "Your old man's a regular saint. Nothing but sunshine and roses. He don't take guys down or pay off cops to look the other way." He wasn't going to push it. The girl could choose to stay blind for as long as she likes. If she wanted to believe her old man's shit didn't stink, then it was no skin off his back. He nods at her and stands up to stretch before reaching into his pocket. "You go ahead inside. I'll be there in a minute." He tells her, lighting up another ciggy as she walks off. He watches her go back to the house, enjoying the way her skirt and hair swayed. Once he's done with his smoke, he follows her back inside.

The smell of the stew makes his stomach growl. Stopping off at his room to pick up a bottle of whiskey before going to the kitchen. He's surprised to find the table set already. He just didn't expect Erin to bother doing any work around here. Well, if she decides to clear the table and do the dishes after, then he wasn't going to complain. "Smells delicious, don't it?" Craig asks her as He opens the bottle, pouring each of them a glass of whiskey. He waits for Erin to sit down before moving his things over and sitting down next to her. He fills each of their bowls before raising his glass as though toasting her. "Dig in." He says simply before starting to eat.
 
Erin looked at him and then looked down, staring at her bowl. "What's the point? What's your end game Craig Magee?" She asked him then frowned. "You don't have to be so sarcastic when you speak about my da. The man I know wouldn't hurt a fly. I don't know you at sol and I am supposed to believe you?" She asked. Frowning, Erin looked back flown at her stew then ate it slowly. She looked at the whiskey, having never really had it before. Her da didn't let her drink it. Grabbing the glass, she took a tentative dip and then coughed, feeling the burn slide down her throat into her stomach. Sitting the glass down, she covered her mouth. "That's just terrible...ugh....how could anybody drink that stuff?"

Shaking her head, she wiped her mouth, feeling another cough fit come up before the burn finally ceased. "That's what da sells. Jesu..." Scrunching up her nose, Erin ate a couple of bites of stew to get the taste out of her mouth before looking at him. "Please tell me you have more to drink here than that...."
 
"I already told you doll. My end game is you. What's so hard to believe about that?" He asks her, taking a bite of some potato. "Look, you wanna believe your old man's a nice church guy, fine, but I ain't gonna act like he's the cat's meow. You keep thinking what you want. Ain't no skin off my back." He watches her take a tentative sip of her whiskey before practically spitting it out and coughing uncontrollably. "What's eating you?" He asks, getting her some water for her quickly and handing it over.

Craig bursts into laughter. "You can't handle some whiskey, and you call yourself Irish? What, did your old man never let you try some?" He asks, still laughing as he drinks some more. An idea comes to him, and he gets a mischievous smile on his face. "Alright fine, maybe it's a bit too strong for you. The taste is good though. You just have to find some other way to try it." He drains his glass before turning his attention to Erin. Putting his hand under her chin, he moves her head to face him before leaning in, pushing into a deep kiss, running his tongue along hers before pulling away. He smiles at her, not letting go of her chin yet. "There, that's better, don't you think?"
 
"No..." Erin answered. "He said I was to young...." She said then took a sip of water. At his statement, she was confused and then he was turning her face and kissing her. It wasn't a chaste kiss either and his tongue entered her gasping lips, tangling with her own tongue. He tasted like the whiskey and smelled of spice and then he was moving away. Her eyes fluttered open, wide with shock drinking in his face. Her blue orbs filled with a mixture of heat and confusion and then realization. Gasping, she shoved his hand away then stood, moving to slap him but his hand was faster and caught her wrist.

"You....you...how dare you steal a kiss from me like that....that...oh..." She was so angry she couldn't even find the ability to speak. Angry at him and also herself because lord preserve her she had enjoyed it. She snatched her hand back. "Don't you ever do that again. You can't just kiss me anytime you want! And stick your tongue...oh you are just a downright scoundrel is what you are, then went to slap him again, actually managing the blow to his cheek. "Don't....don't you dare ever do that to me again..." Her temper was up now, that was for certain.
 
Craig reacts quickly to Erin’s slap, catching her hand before she can hit him, all while chuckling. The kiss had been a good one, even if the girl wasn’t doing much of anything at first. Just knowing who he was kissing, and what it could lead to for him had made it exciting. She rants and is clearly angry at what he did, but he notices the little things. Her breathing, the way her cheeks flush, she liked it, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She manages to wrench her hand away when he loosens her grip, and this time actually gets a hit in on him. “Oof, cat’s got some claws.” He says, rubbing the hit before standing and walking over until he’s leaning right over, getting Erin against the wall. He smiles, showing some teeth as his eyes stay on hers.

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “I can’t kiss you whenever I want?” He asks before pretending to think about it for a moment and shrugging his shoulder. “Whatever you say doll. How about this then, I’ll only kiss ya when you want me to.” He leans in close, whispering in a low, husky voice. “If you don’t want me to, then all you gotta do is push me away.” He tells her before pressing his lips to hers once again. He parts their mouths, his tongue quickly finding hers as Craig pushes the kiss deeper. He’d already decided that he won’t pull away until she pushes him back or he runs out of breath.
 
Erin swallowed hard when he moved to tower over her, trapping her between the wall and himself though he might as well be a wall himself with how big he was. Her slap had barely left a mark on his handsome face. As he spoke in that low husky tone, she felt her insides quiver and then he was kissing her again. Her hands came up, meaning to push him away almost immediately but they stilled on his chest as he parts her lips with his tongue and starts to use it once more. As he kissed, Erin found her control slipping and even gave a soft moan, clutching his shirt, drawing back when her lungs were close to exploding from lack of oxygen. Her blue eyes opened and looked up at him and then she gasped, pushing him back and covering her mouth. Glaring, she moved away from him and then without a word, ran upstairs, slamming the door behind her. Once alone, she sank against the wood, slipping to the floor and then covering her burning her face with her hands. She'd kissed him back.

Oh more than kissed him back, actually moaned like a wanton. Like a harlot. It was so wrong and yet it had felt so good. Moving to the edge of the bed, she put her hands together and then bowed her head, praying for her immortal soul because she felt that after that great kissing, she was in chance of losing it for want of fornication.
 
The second kiss is so incredibly, delightfully perfect. Erin kissed him back. There was no debating that point now. Even better though was the sweet little sound of pleasure she made as she clutched at his shirt, pulling him instead of pushing the man away. As the kiss finally ends, both of them flushing and gasping for breath, she seems to come to her senses and pushes herself away. He smiles as she runs off, making no effort to act ashamed, or to hide his obvious arousal. Instead, he just sits down and finishes his meal, draining Erin’s cup of whiskey since he finished his.

Once he’s done, he covers her plate and fills up some more water. Dropping them off at the door, Craig gives it a knock. “Your food’s right outside if you get hungry. Guess the bank’s closed now, but I’ll be sure to get a check.” He says before turning and leaving her to go back to his own room. It was getting late, which meant that Jimmy should be there soon. Sure enough, it’s only a few minutes later that the car pulls into the dirt road. This time he was driving a flivvy that looked ready to break down, it was cheap and barely noticeable, which made it perfect for them. Craig goes out to meet him and find out what the current situation was.

Cops had taken to stopping every car going out of the city now. The watch was going on in full force, and they even had dogs looking for her. Craig’s relieved that they had thought to wash off the areas around his speak easy so they wouldn’t pick up her scent. To make it even better though, he didn’t bother doing that at the alley near her old man’s place. Patrick would know that his daughter disappeared right around the corner from him. Jimmy drops off some clothes he had managed to sneak through in secret compartments before heading off.

Craig heads back inside and strips down to just his underwear, not seeing much reason to wear more than that around the house if he was going to bed. He stops in front of Erin’s door again, knocking on it as he drops the package of outfits. “I got you some more things to wear and something to sleep in if you want to. I’ll check on you in the morning.” He heads back to his room, falling to the bed without bothering to close the door.
 
She paused in her praying when he knocked on the door and offered her her food. Waiting until his footsteps receeded, she took her food n from the hallway and then started to eat when she heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Moving to the window, she glanced out, seeing Craig moving out to greet the man and realizing it was that giant man from earlier. It was a relatively quick exchange and then the man was leaving with Craig's figure walking back into the house. Hearing his footsteps, she sat down on the edge of the bed, hearing him tell her about the clothes. Waiting until he was gone from her door, Erin then got up and walked to the door, opening it and gathering the packages before shutting the door tight once more. With gentle fingers, she unpacked them, finding servicable blouses and skirts, a couple of day dresses, all of which were functioning outfits and not the prim and proper silks and velvet dresses she often wore. All of the garments were made of breatheable cotton with a coat of leather there as well in order to ward off the cold. Another set of boots, black in color and finally a nightgown. But it was a nightgown unlike the simple ones she wore at home. It was made of nearly see through silk and left little to the imagination even with a square neckline and billowy short sleeves. With a matching silk robe, it was certainly pretty. This was a nightgown for a woman, not an unmarried young lady.

Even so it was to pretty not to at least try on. Quickly undressing, she put on the nightgown and looked at her reflection in the mirror, smiling at the way it suited her slender frame and fell all the way to her feet, covering them with only the bow of night slippers peaking out beneath the fabric. The robe only heightened the allure and sexiness of it and she took the robe off before moving to the bed. Crawling under the covers, she curled up to sleep, snuffing the oil lamp and then clutching her cross necklace before unconsciousness claimed her.

When morning came, she decided there was no point in laying about lazy all day and if she was going to be trapped here, she might as well make herself at home. Putting on a simple cotton dress with a belt to cinch her waist, and her boots, she braided her hair and then exited the master bedroom, headed toward the indoor bathroom and pausing at his door being open. As she glanced in, her cheeks burned at seeing him pretty much naked save underpants on his hips and she swallowed before making a quick dart to the WC. Once she had scrubbed her face and brushed her teeth, Erin made her way downstairs and then decided to explore the kitchen. The necessities were all there with cornmeal, flour, sugar and spices and there were packages of ground hominy and oats for oatmeal. It looked like that big fella had brought by some fresh milk and she was quick to get a pan going with the oats, milk, cinnamon, sugar and a diced apple. Nothing said breakfast like hot oats and she could make oatcakes out of the leftovers. Even if she was a sheltered apartment dweller, she knew how to cook.
 
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