A WINTER SHADOW

CHAPTER ONE

There were many pubs in Charleston – fancy, casual, thematic or just family places where kids could play while the adults drank beer or other non-alcoholic drinks. Nevertheless, there were also pubs for a different group of people – that kind of people who were able to have a gun behind the belt and not being scared to use it. One of these places was hidden under an apartment building at the edge of the city. Its name was The Raven and it was a popular place for criminals, alcoholics and another kind of people. Also, it was the perfect place to hide. The owner of the place had his people who informed him if the police were coming or not. There were times when some raids happened and a few of the criminals were taken to prison right from there. Most of the time, the pub was unattainable for the police.

A loud hard music was playing and the people inside were drinking beers and booze, playing billiard or darts. This day was so far without broken chairs, tables and the jukebox. Everyone mined their own business. The day hasn’t finished, yet. It would be way too unusual if no one started a fight. Even the most threatening motorcycle gang visited the pub to have a beer and maybe a playtime with some girls, and nothing happened. If any girl appeared in the pub, they were mostly hookers or those who belonged to someone. The pub had two waitresses, but they didn’t work there much. One of them mostly helped at the beginning of the day because she was way too scared to work at night, but she needed the money and the other was there only during weekends.

Every day, someone new came to the pub for a drink, to hide for a few hours and maybe got a little drunk. This day was no different; a new guy came to the bar – quietly, not trying to bring any attention to him. His blue eyes were scanning the huge room full of weird people, finding a spot where he could sit and have a beer. Some of the eyes found him and checked the new guy from shoes to the longer brown hair. Since the new guy didn’t cause any trouble, they left him alone – for now.

He sat on a barstool and put his arms on the wooden slab. His eyes noticed some deep scratches, signs, vulgarisms, and cracks on it. Both of his hands were covered by leather gloves, rubbing against each other. “New face in the house,” a strong male voice with a different accent said, probably to him. “What can I get you, boy?” said the man monotonously. The blue eyes were suddenly on the bartender who was cleaning a beer glass.

For a moment, the new guy gritted his teeth and then the words flew out his mouth, “only a beer.”

The bartender was an older man with grayer hair perfectly combed backward and longer beard that made him look tougher. His also gray eyes were sparkling when a laugh escaped his lips. “What’s the matter? You look like you just killed someone. Well, you’re not the only one here.” The man gave him a dark bottle of beer. A piece of tattoo appeared from under the sleeve of his red checkered shirt.

“That’s none of your business,” he grunted and took a sip.

“Oi, boy, mind the tone,” the bartender warned him. “Don’t talk to me like I’m your little sister, ‘cause I’m not,” and with those words, he went to two men sitting on the right side of the bar. They probably knew each other, because he was talking to them and laughing, pointing with the index finger at the new guy.

The place was darker than he thought would be. Few lamps were illuminating the whole pub and those were mostly the lamps above the pool tables. There were a lot of posters of metal and rock bands, some sexy ladies in bikinis and a pair of huge deer horns above the bar. The most suitable word for this place would be a dump.

He didn’t even finish half of the beer when he could hear a noise from behind his back. His ears could register everything, even the way somebody was breathing. “Look what got here,” said a voice which wasn’t pleasant at all. It belonged to a man, probably with a huge body type. “Little boy, you are sitting on my chair. Move away.”

The brown-haired man clenched his fists and the blue eyes were looking at the reflection from a cool box for beverages. He finally saw three big fat men standing behind him all dressed up in leather jackets or vests. They were the typical mascots of these kinds of places.

“Are you deaf, kid? Move, or we’ll do it,” said the other one, trying to reach for a gun from a pocket of the jeans.

The biggest of them wanted to make a move but was stopped by a sharp, silvery knife under his chin. His hands went up in the air and he even ended breathing for a moment. The other two were stopped by a sound of a weapon being loaded. Everyone in the bar halted their activities – drinking, playing games or chatting. Their eyes were locked at the bar, looking at the scene. This wasn’t the first time something like that happened. Regular customers, visitors, knew the human being who wasn’t afraid of anyone.

“What’s the matter Fat Joe? Scared of a little knife?” a very soft voice said near his right ear. The lips were almost touching it. “I know you love bullying, but we all know how you suck at it.” He could feel the breath on his neck and a drop of sweat appeared on his forehead. “Why don’t you go play somewhere else with your friends?” His two companions wanted to protect their (probably) leader, but the person behind them was much faster. The first one was suddenly without a gun and the other one lost his knife. Once again, the silvery blade was back under the Fat Joe’s neck. “Now, where were we?” the soft voice belonged to a woman. “Oh, yes, get lost.”

“Go fuck yourself, little girl. No one’s afraid of you. No one has ever been,” the fat man said angrily.

“Is that so?” and the blade was now touching his slimy skin. “Then explain me, why are you shaking like you have a mental disorder? Is it my touch or the touch of my blade?” After those words, the knife left his throat and the woman behind the fat body took a step back, putting the knife in its rightful place.

The people in the pub started to drink again, play games and weren’t paying attention to the woman and the men standing at the bar. The trio turned to the human being. A big smile appeared on the face as she crossed her arms over the breasts. “Why are you doing this, girl?” one of them, the smallest one, asked her. “One day, this game will be over and you’ll lose.”

“Aw, aren’t ya cute?” she playfully wiggled her perfect eyebrows. “Why don’t you ladies go sit there,” she pointed at a free table in the corner of the room. “That’s where you belong,” she winked at them and without any other words she made a move towards the bar, where some of the customers were still looking at her. “Oh, and by the way, don’t you dare try to do something, or you’ll pay for it,” she added quickly before they left.

The bartender started to laugh and looked at the woman who sat down on the barstool and put a leather jacket on it. “Nice performance, Izzy,” he said, still laughing and grabbing a clean glass. He poured there her favorite drink – vodka.

“Well, I couldn’t say just hi,” she rolled her eyes and smirked. “I had to do something. Fat Joe is getting on my nerves,” she breathed and grabbed the drink the man gave her. “It’s good to be back,” she waved with the glass and then drank it, making a noise. “Oh, yeah baby, that’s some good stuff. Give me a beer, will you? I’m back after a week. I need to celebrate a little.”

“Right away, gorgeous, but first, I need to give these,” he showed her a tray full of shots, “to those men on the pool table number three,” he carefully pointed at the motorcycle gang, playing pool and laughing.

“Who are they?” she asked, looking at the group of loud people. Until then, the woman didn’t even realize they were making noise. She shrugged her shoulders.

“They are called the Dark Horses,” he whispered, “one of the famous motorcycle gangs in the US. I heard they love fights and they are not afraid to kill a person with bare hands. Or as I would like to call it – Thursday night.”

“Well, they are not that famous, ‘cause I don’t know them,” she spat a little. “Are they causing any trouble?”

“No, not now,” he answered. “But I have my eyes on them.” With that, he took the tray and went to the gang, hoping they wouldn’t kill him. He wasn’t afraid – he had his own people there to protect him, including the young woman. The local customers wouldn’t let them hurt his favorite bartender and owner of The Raven.

The man with blue eyes and dark brown hair slightly turned his head to see the creature that saved his ass. Not that he wanted to, but at least it wasn’t him who started a fight. He wasn’t sure what his actions would do to his place. He gave himself a promise – no more killing, but he had some exceptions. The woman sitting next to him was very young, maybe the same age as was he – almost. She had a very long black hair braided in a French style from the top of her head until the waist. She was wearing everything in black - leather jeans, thigh high boots, massive belt going from the waist to her thigh which could hold a gun, cartridge and a knife, a tank top with a vest on it. A leather jacket was hanging from the chair. When his eyes went to her face, the woman spoke, “you look terrified.”

His eyes widened and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him until the girl turned her head to him. Now, he could see the very lightly tanned face, full lips with a dark red lipstick, and eyes so dark, it could even be a black color. He immediately felt a pinch in his stomach. His eyes found something red and pink was shining on the right side of her neck. It was a scar running down to the collarbone. His mouth opened but the words didn’t come out. Why was this girl so familiar? Have they met before? “More surprised than terrified,” he finally answered.
The feminine body fully turned to him. “Haven’t seen you around – are you new?” she asked, taking a deep breath and scanning his face. He had a very short beard, mesmerizing blue eyes, a longer dark brown hair and he was wearing an outfit not very suitable for this place.

“Kind of,” he replied quietly, moving his head back and sipped his beer.

“Ah, not very talkative. Bad day?” she kept asking.

“More like a bad life,” he ironically replied with a laugh.

She rolled her dark eyes, “well, if you are going to whimper here, you are in the wrong place,” she hissed a little, making a move, just to see if the bartender was alright. Evidently, he was talking to the gang. “So, who are you?”

“Does it matter?” he was once again looking at her.

“It does. If you want to sit here,” she pointed at his seat, “you have to tell me who you are. Only the closest people to the bartender,” now her finger was showing herself, “can sit here. Not even the fucking Fat Joe,” her voice purposely raised up, turning her head to those three men, annoyingly glancing at them.

“Fuck off, will you?” the man responded from afar.

“Fine,” he grabbed the bottle, “I’ll sit somewhere else.”

“That was easy,” she sounded shocked. Before the man could leave, she stopped him. “Put your ass back on the fucking chair, prince Charming. Wow, you didn’t even want to fight with me and that’s something unusual. Most men would die to yell at me and try to a fight me.” When she saw how the new guy stayed in his place, she asked him once again: “Who are you?”

“I- I’m,” he hesitated for a moment. “They call me Bucky,” he answered her question, not believing he even said it.

The girl squinted her dark eyes and cocked her head. When she was looking at him, her stomach made a twist and she winced a little. “Well, Bucky,” the black-haired woman smiled a little, “welcome to The Raven – a place specially made for people like us. You can find here thieves, alcoholics, gangsters, murderers or people who just don’t belong to the normal society.”

“Sounds like the right place just for me,” Bucky’s voice wasn’t enthusiastic.

The bartender was finally back with the tray full of empty glasses. From his face, Izzy knew something was definitely wrong. “Fucking brats,” he rolled his eyes and put everything into the sink. “I swear I will take out my gun and shoot those fuckers.”

“What’s the matter?” she turned to him.

“Everything’s just fine,” he waved his hand. “They are annoying, stupid and basically I’m waiting until…” he didn’t even finish his sentence; one of the men broke the cue and started yelling something. “Hey, dickhead, you owe me one fifty dollars for that!” he screamed.

“Fuck you!” the one replied.

Izzy looked behind and gritted her teeth. “Hey, you ugly fuck! You better pay that.”

“Or what, slut, what are you possibly going to do to me? Do you know who I am?” he said with a strong Texan accent. “You are only good for one thing and that’s sucking my cock!”

The girl rolled her eyes and grinned. “This is fun,” Izzy quietly laughed and ignored the man. “They will come, just give them time. And you, sweetheart, give me that beer.”

The man with the gray beard handed her a bottle of beer. “So, as I can see, you made a new friend,” the gray eyes moved to the new guy, whose eyes were looking at the two of them. “That is so unusual for you. You never make friends here.”

“Who said I did?” she took a sip. Her free hand swung the long braided hair over her right shoulder. “His name is Bucky and his eyes look like a sad puppy,” she giggled.

“Well, puppy,” the bartender came closer to the brunet and handed him a glass of vodka. “I’m Rick, better known as the Raven. I’m the owner of this magical place. The drink’s on the house.”

“Thanks.” Bucky wasn’t sure if he should take the drink or not. His right arm slowly reached for the tiny shot glass and held it in his fingers. Before he drank it, his eyes went to the woman who prompted him to drink it. And he did. It was nothing else than vodka. “So, I guess this is nothing unusual here,” he said, inconspicuously pointing to the gang.

“Pretty much,” Rick answered and took Bucky’s empty shot glass. “There were days when we had to hide a corpse, or kick everyone out,” he was laughing. “Those were the good old days.”

“Did you…?”

“Did I kill someone?” the man looked him in the eyes. “Well, there were times in my life when it was necessary, but I never killed someone here. Besides, I don’t do the dirty work, right Izzy?” he was once again looking at the dangerously beautiful girl. She seemed to be perfect, except the scar she had on her neck.

“You have to say everything,” she sighed, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable on the chair. “You accused me of making a new friend and now you are telling him things that not many of us know,” her head moved on the left side to two other men, who were quietly enjoying their beers. “So shut your pretty mouth, Raven,” she winked at him. “What if he’s a cop?”

“Oh, this little puppy is not a cop, believe me,” Rick laughed.

“Well, for a sixty-year-old man, you are way too sure,” she was mocking him a little. It was true, the man was older, and he was sixty years old, but he looked like a forty-year-old guy. The style made him younger.

“Um, yeah, but I fuck like a God,” he put his elbows on the counter and leaned closer to her.

Izzy wanted to mess his perfectly brushed hair, but she was surprised by an unwanted arm around her shoulders and a smell that almost made her puke. One of the men from the gang came to her with an awful smile on the lips. It wasn’t the leader, but just a puppet who wanted to show off. Bucky wanted to take action, but he rather remained sitting just for a moment longer. Even Rick was shocked by the scene that was happening in front of his eyes. “Well, baby, would you suck my cock? You look like you need one,” the man spoke, lust playing in his eyes. “I think your sassy mouth is perfect for my cock. Would you like to find out?” The man was bald and very unattractive.

The raven-haired girl turned her head to him and widely smiled. The red lipstick was making her irresistible. She even leaned closer to him. However, she didn’t kiss him. Her left hand quickly grabbed him by the vertex and with a quick and rough move she smashed his forehead against the wooden slab. The man was immediately on the ground, unconscious, and he had a bleeding wound on the forehead. Before anyone could notice, Izzy grabbed the silver knife from a pocket and threw it at the gang – hitting the leader of the group right in the raised hand. She stood up from the chair and turned to the gang. Bucky was shocked by the sudden action, but he was ready to fight if it was necessary.

“You are getting on my nerves, ladies,” she said harshly, slowly walking over them. They could even hear the sound of her wide heels clattering on the floor.

“Fucking bitch!” the leader yelled, sweat running down his temples. His hand was strongly bleeding and it hurt like a bitch. “Teach her a lesson, boys. And do the same with those faggots over the bar!”

After his order, the remaining fifteen people started to run to her, preparing their bats and fists. Bucky was immediately on his feet. Why would anyone let a single female fight with the gang of big angry men? Unless, she was different… Izzy’s hands clenched and when the first one came closely enough, she knocked him down with only one strike. Subsequently, she dodged a bat and with a quick move, she took it from the man and hit another three with it. Her moves were fast and she was strong.

Four of the men avoided the woman and run to the bar, where Bucky was standing on his feet. He wasn’t expecting this moment even in his dreams. When the first one came to him, the blue-eyed man grabbed him with his left arm around the neck and pulled him up. His feet were kicking in the air and he was trying to catch a breath. Some of them heard a sound similar to a machine. Where did that come from? The brunet’s left hand hardly threw the man on a table and it broke down. Bucky’s brain was once again messed up. There were moments when his mind would go dark and the only thing that ever existed was to fight and defuse enemy. Rick was shocked when his eyes saw what the new guy could do. He was like Izzy – strong and fast.

The leader took the knife from his hand. There was a lot of blood on the chairs, tables and his black handgun. “I’m going to kill that fucking slut,” he groaned, quickly running to her, but was stopped by her sudden action with her right leg.

“Wasn’t expecting that, ha?” she laughed and with a hard kick, he flew right on a chair and with a weight of his body, he broke it. Izzy swung the bat in hands and punched another man with it. A few of them remained still, looking at the girl open-mouthed. They were way too afraid to attack. Her dark eyes spotted the new guy, brutally punching one douche right in the face. There was a lot of blood and even some teeth on the floor. “That’s brutal,” she commented quietly. “Hey, you, stop!” Izzy was talking to Bucky who wasn’t listening. “I said,” she run to him and took the beaten guy away from that drastic grasp. “Stop!” The woman pushed Bucky against a wooden beam. “That’s enough!”

Those last words made him grab the woman by her neck and switch their position. Once again he used his left hand for it. The grip was very strong, maybe stronger than hers. The new guy was choking her. A sound of a loading shotgun was heard from the bar. “Leave her alone!” Rick yelled at Bucky.

Izzy saw a change in his blue eyes. They were full of hate and lust for killing like there was no humanity left. It changed when he let her go. Now he was confused, slowly backing away from her. His mouth was open. What has he done? He wanted to kill a woman whom he wanted to help. The baby blue eyes blinked and in a second, he hastily left the bar, leaving the raven-haired girl in pure amazement and shock at the same time.

“What the fuck was that?” Rick was going crazy. If he had the strength, he would break the gun in two pieces. “That piece of fuck almost killed you!”

Izzy didn’t respond to him. Her hand was fixed the clothing she was wearing. “Okay, ladies,” she quickly clapped her hands. “I hope you learned a lesson. You don’t get to play with me or the bartender or the people sitting near the bar. When you broke something, you pay for it – just like you’ll pay for the broken chairs and tables. Your own stupidity brought you on your knees,” she said loudly, so everyone could hear her. “And as you can see, I’m not a hooker who would like to suck your dirty cocks.” After that, she went to the leader of the motorcycle gang and took her knife from his hand. He was lying on the pile of a wood that used to be a chair, panting.

“What are you going to do with that fucker who ran away?” The Raven was once again talking to her while she was walking back to the bar, sitting on her barstool. The man’s eyes were angry and he didn’t cancel the eye contact. “Izzy?!”

“Nothing, sweetheart, nothing,” she replied strictly, looking into his eyes. “I have my reasons.”
“Oh, and care for disclose your reasons to me?” Rick finally hid the shotgun under the bar and wiped his hands on his shirt.

She sighed and stood up from the chair. “Backroom, now,” the dark eyes looked at the door next to a shelf full of expensive alcohol. Rick nodded and together they went to the warehouse where they could have more privacy. When they needed to talk, they always ended there. Their conversations couldn’t be heard by anyone else. When Izzy closed the door, the man already had his arms crossed over his pectoral. “I know that guy.”

“Ah, is he one of your fuck buddies?”

“No,” she gave him an annoyed look. “He’s from my past.”

“Okay, but I’m not following…”

“Just, when he comes back, don’t do anything stupid with boys,” she warned him. “Let him stay, talk to him. This one is mine to play. Now, be a good boy and trust me, because you don’t have any other choice.”

“I need to know more, Izzy,” Rick insisted.

“Fine, I’ll explain when I get back from my appointment,” she winked at him.

Izzy wanted to leave, but Rick grabbed her by the wrist and pulled the feminine body to his. “Wait, that’s it? You only wanted this? Oh, come on princess. What’s the rush?” he pushed her against the door. “Why don’t we have a quickie back here? I know you like my cock. I heard you beg for my cock.”

The dark eyes were sparkling even in the darker room. Her hands wrapped around his neck and she devilishly smiled at him. “Yeah, and what makes you think that, old man? You are sixty. You’re old. But I must admit,” she breathed his scent through the nose, “you have a sexy muscular body and your tattoos are making you even younger. Ah, I just love when a man takes a good care of himself.”

“Oh, come on, Izzy. I know you want this,” his hands trailed through her body, grabbing her tight ass. When Rick wanted to kiss her, a smashing sound came from the front. Both of them were annoyed. She stepped aside, letting him go first. Biting her lower lip, Izzy followed him from the warehouse back to the bar, where two men were fighting. It was Fat Joe and his friend.

“Fucking hell,” the Raven rolled his eyes. He just found out some of the men from the gang were already gone, only money was lying on the pool table. “What’s wrong with you people? Can I have sex in the back without interruption?” and when he turned behind to find the black-haired girl, she was already gone, standing in front of the bar, putting on a leather jacket. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Oh, I just remembered I have a work to do,” she smiled, finding a pair of leather driving gloves in the pockets and putting them on. “There is this girl who asked me to help her with some freaks who wouldn’t leave her alone. She promised me good money for this.”

“When will you come back?” Rick was curious. “I’d like to know if I have to wait for you or not.”

“I don’t know. Probably around two in the morning. I’d like to play with them and you know how much I love foreplay,” she winked at him. “Don’t wait for me baby. I’m not going to sleep with you anyway. Try someone else? Hey,” she suddenly smiled, “I can call you Mindy – you know, the sexy teen with big boobs,” she pointed at her smaller one. “She’s only eighteen, but her breasts are D-Cup.”

“But I want you, Izzy. And I love your boobs, even when they are only a B-Cup,” he grinned at her.

“Call Mindy,” she playfully rolled her eyes. “You do have her number. Now, take care. Bye,” she sent him an air kiss and walked away from the bar.

Notes