h3lltown | DISORDERLY CONDUCT - Maroon Murphy, Salomon, Cindy Wilson, Roman Santana. Part 5

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injuries.

Cindy sunk into the springy couch, puffing out a cloud of smoke as she finished recounting her…eventful night. Maroon was dumbstruck by her tale; was this lady really some kind of hitman-for-hire? She did have the physical strength and the huge bruise on her face to back her story up. Despite having the evidence right in front of him, Maroon was still skeptical. If it was true, she wouldn’t be confessing to crime in front of a stranger, would she? I could call the police and turn her in. Somehow, he wasn’t inclined to do that. It was mostly because the lady had a gun with her and he wasn’t taking any chances. and she did say that dragging him back here was for his protection, after all. And he wasn't going to pick another fight with the woman with a gun.

Salomon, to his own credit, had held a neutral expression through it all. He hadn’t been able to glance at Roman much, but Maroon guessed he was as desensitized as Sal.

“Well, that sucks. You gonna stay here until things calm down outside?” Salomon was the first to speak up. Cindy seemed to give it some thought before answering.”Most likely. The man was high profile, I don’t know about the…late witness, though. These types of jobs tend to kick up a fuss, regardless.I would’ve left the city, but I'm still going to meet my client in person here.” She explained. Salomon nodded along.

Maroon was entranced while looking at the smoke spirals coming out of Cindy's cigarette, when he noticed a concerning red spot on her gray sweatshirt. He recalled the ‘rough fall’ that she spoke about.

“Hey, you’re bleeding.” He pointed out matter-of-factly.

Cindy glanced down to her arm, having seemingly forgotten about the scrapes on her right side. She put out her cigarette as she got up from her spot on the couch.

“Right. I’m going to clean this up in your bathroom, Salomon, if you don’t mind.”

“You’re home sweetheart, go ahead.” Cindy scrunched her face up as he mentioned ‘home’.

Cindy disappeared into the bathroom to tend to her scrapes. Maroon could feel the tension in the room vanish as the door clicked shut behind her.

Salomon put his head in his hands and sighed. "Real piece of work, ain't she?"

Maroon nodded in agreement, even though Salomon couldn't see him. He can't begin to imagine what circumstances brought these people together like this. Well, he could understand how people on this side of life could find each other, but the difference in… occupation was too big. Cindy had an air of dangerous elegance; of someone that could fill a room with crackling electricity with nothing but their presence. Salomon, on the other hand… Well, he knew he wasn’t as harmless as he made himself out to be, but Maroon doubted that he had the heart to murder someone. And certainly nothing was elegant about him. As for Roman, Maroon could see he was more cold-blooded than the rabbit, but still couldn’t picture him as some kind of assassin.

“She didn’t come in through the window this time.” Roman said as if it was something normal people experienced. Maroon turned to look at him, baffled. Roman nodded towards the living room window. The screen meant to keep insects out was torn up and the frame had visible claw marks around it.

“That doesn’t explain anything.” Maroon muttered, but decided to not argue anymore.

Roman shrugged as he got up from the couch, “I'm gonna go put on some clothes, you people can figure yourselves out.” He walked across the living room and into one of the doors in the hallway leaving just Maroon and Sal sitting across each other.

Maroon, already done with the night, started to melt into the couch, his eyes closing without his permission.

*******

“Hey, wake up.” He recognized Sal's nasally voice in his ear. Maroon unconsciously flicked his ear at the feeling of his breath. “Cindy says you can leave if you want to.” He groaned. He felt too comfortable to move. Sal shook his shoulders in an attempt to get him back into the waking world. Maroon opened his eyes slowly.

The memory of where he was came back as he took a whiff of the mix of cigarettes and spilled beer that permeated Sal’s apartment.

“Fuck–what time is it?”

“Relax, you fell asleep for like half an hour. Cindy just went to sleep in my room, said you could go, but don’t “look like you’re up to something while leaving”, her words, not mine.”

Maroon glanced at his watch. It read 3:55 a.m. His shift at the club ended at 4:30 a.m, so he should have just enough time to walk back, maybe take a cab, and finish his shift. He rummaged through his pockets in search of his wallet only to find empty space. He must have left it back at work. He groaned in annoyance at having to walk 30 minutes back to work just to come back to his own apartment here, and there’s now way in hell he’s asking Sal for money. Maroon doubts he has any to spare, anyways.

Just as he was walking towards the door, he heard the all-too-familiar sound of raindrops colliding against a glass window. In nothing less than a few seconds, the pitter-patter became gradually stronger until Sal had to run to close back the window. All year round, New Oclester was a rainy, gloomy city; living here was like living in a perpetual funeral scene in a movie. The skies were gray with a mixture of smog and thunderclouds, both by day and by night.

Maroon pinched his nose in an attempt to stave-off the stress-induced headache he could feel forming.

“You should go home man. Just call Luke and say something came up, he’ll get it.” Salomon said, as if sensing his frustration with life. Luke, his boss (and Sal’s sort-of boss) was an old pygmy goat about half the size of Maroon, and despite the business that he led, was a fairly nice, understanding person towards his employees. Maroon didn’t doubt that he would be okay with it; Luke would probably bring him his wallet too if he asked nicely. The more he thought about it, the less reasons he found for walking half an hour in a storm just to do it again 10 minutes later.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m gonna go home and call Luke from there, and then sleep for two whole days after.”

“By the way, why didn’t you go back to check on your place when we got here? don’t you have a little kid or something?”

“He’s my brother, and he expects me to get home at five. I didn’t want to scare him. Not to mention, I was essentially kidnapped by some insane woman with a gun. I didn’t think I could leave with the same amount of holes that I came in with.”

Sal smiled at the small glimpse of the mongoose’s soft side. “Well, go ahead then. Enjoy your two-day comma.”

TBC