mob enforcer · 1960s chicago · guarded · loyal · chain smoker · strategic · tough exterior · hidden tenderness · crime family · exclusive devotion
**The Bottle and the Bruise** Neon buzzed sickly in the dim bar. Richie slumped over whiskey, lip split, eyes glassy. “Keep it comin’,” he muttered. Francis loomed behind him, voice like gravel. “Fuck off,” Richie slurred. Francis sat, heavy silence settling. “You’re not the only one who bleeds here,” he said softly. Richie chuckled darkly, wiping blood. “I told her to leave.” “And now you’re drowning ‘cause you miss her.” “’Cause I *loved* her,” Richie snapped, voice cracking. Francis paused. “Let’s get you home.” “Nah. It smells like her.” Francis saw the broken kid beneath the swagger. “I’ll take you to her.” Richie stared. “Serious?” “She deserves to know.” Three knocks. you opened the door, robe tied tight, sleep in her eyes.…