Ryan's Redemption

[the-empressar.livejournal.com]

Title: Ryan's Redemption Chapter 21/?
Author: The Empress of gone for far too long
Pairing: None
Rating PG-13 - R Language/Violence
Summer:  What does Ryan wake up from...screaming into the night???
Disclaimer:  Don't own, please don't come after me with the pitchforks and torches...I"m a good girl!!! I hope to have another chapter up this weekend...WOO HOO!!

First I would like to give a shout out to ALL the amazing talent that dwells on the pages of this WL_Fanfiction Live Journal site. There are some truly dedicated ladies who take the time and effort to share with us their creative talents and dreams and wishes for the entertainment happiness of those who choose to read the stories found in this site. Not one of us is better than another here. I tip my Empress crown to those who have held the torch to keep this page alive and have shared with us their visions. Please take this as my humble offering to show my thanks and gratitude for all the hard work that you do. I thank you! 

 

Second hear these words: It takes a lifetime to be the best that you can be. We have not the time or the right to judge each other. It’s one life, and there’s no return and no deposit. ONE LIFE! So make sure you like what’s in your closet. I am what I am. I don’t want praise, I don’t want pity. I bang my own drum, some think its noise. I think it’s pretty. And so what if I love each sparkle and each bangle, why not try to see things from a different angle. Life’s not worth a damn till you can shout out…I AM WHAT I AM!! - Goria Gaynor "I Am What I Am"

 

Chapter 21

 

Karen Maruyama quietly approached the door to the last cabin in the small run down complex. She had heard noises from within earlier and had seen the two figures enter the night before. She brought with her a first aid kit and some food. They looked so desperate and worn to her, she was sure there was something more to what met the eye than they were sharing. She was the maid service for the motel, and although it may have looked a little rough on the outside, she always made sure things were in the best conditions she could possibly make them on the inside. The little old man who was her boss, didn’t give her much to go on and these were indeed trying times, no one had two dimes to rub together let alone think about quality in the comfort. In the small town of Woodstock, Alabama, you get what you could. If anybody was anybody, they’d be in the big city of Birmingham, but during the depression it was the little cities that suffered. Karen thought of the two men as part of the ever-depressing social-economical state of the day, in which the hotel often catered to.

 

It was mid-morning and the sun was steadily climbing as Karen hesitantly tapped on the cabin door. There was a loud curse from inside the room and something clattered to the ground. The door swung open and an arm reached out to grab her hand, mid-knock before she had a chance to defend or protest. A hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream. She was pulled into the darkened curtain drawn room, the door slamming behind her.

 

“What you want doll? Ryan said coming close to her face. “You know you really shouldn’t be snoopin’ around where your nose don’t belong.” Ryan’s tired eyes studied the trembling form in front of him. 

 

“I’m sorry, sir.” Karen said timidly. “I’m just here…I brought this.” She said extending her parcel of food and supplies. She glanced over at the form on the bed. “He doesn’t look very good.” She said pointing to Colin. He was still spread out over the mattress, and save for a slight rise and fall of his chest, he looked at death’s door.

 

Ryan looked over at Colin and back at Karen in desperation. “Can you help him?” He said running a worried, trembling hand through his hair. He went over to Colin and felt his pulse again. It was faint. Karen went over to the prone form and noticed the waxen pallor of his skin. She went to the dingy bathroom and took a couple of fresh towels from the rack. She dampened one with warm water and went to attend to her “patient.” Ryan eyed her warily but then sniffed at the contents of the package she had brought with her. His mouth watered at the notion of food.

 

“Help yourself.” Karen said as she undressed Colin from head to toe taking note of the damage on his body. Ryan looked at Colin shyly. He had never seen him totally naked. Colin snuffled in his stupor and rubbed his face into the worn pillow. Karen gave his body a clinical once over and covered it with a sheet. Ryan greedily tore into the packet, finding stuffed sandwiches and a couple of apples and a few peppermint candies. He gratefully looked at the woman, whom he had no earthly idea would be so kind to the likes of him and his companion and began to wolf down the food. 

 

“Slow down, mister, or you’ll be no better off than him.” Karen said indicating Colin. “Is he ok?” Ryan said through a mouthful of ham and cheese.

 

“Yes, he’ll be fine, he just needs rest. I’ve put a fresh bandage on his head wound and given him some water to drink. He’s still pretty out of it. Where are you guys heading?” Karen asked innocently enough.

 

“Birmingham.” Ryan answered shortly. He narrowed his eyes at the diminutive woman.

 

“You’re not much farther from there. Karen said, with a sigh. “Where’d ya’ll come from?”

 

Ryan didn’t answer for a moment. He looked at Karen and decided to remain brief. He was thankful that his prison issued blue shirt was badly stained enough to cover the numbers on the front. “Wetumpka.”

 

If Karen let loose the fact that she knew of where and what Wetumpka was infamous for, she didn’t betray it in her calm and careful demeanor. She looked at Ryan shrewdly and set about attending to his injuries. The most Ryan had was a painful sunburn to which she applied some aloe mixture. “Why are you doing this?” Ryan asked her.

 

“Well, it isn’t often we get strangers in these parts, especially not ones coming all the way from…Wetumpka. You looked a little worse for wear when I saw you last night from my room in the back. And then I saw you dragging him off like a sack of potatoes, and I knew he wouldn’t last much longer without attention.”

Ryan nodded and winced as the cool aloe touched his face and leaned into the feel of it as it soothed his skin. “Thanks…for this.” He said indicating what she had done.

 

“No problem.” Karen replied as she took one last look around the room, and at the man slumped on the bed. She opened the door and stood at the threshold. “Don’t worry. You can lose yourself in a big place like Birmingham. Your secret’s safe with me.” She turned and closed the door behind her.

 

Ryan stood and peered out the window watching as Karen walked back to the main office. His heart pounded in his chest, wondering if he could trust her or not. He was too tired to care at the moment, the weariness and worry finally claiming him.   They’d be on the road again soon, but now he needed to sleep. He barely made it to the bed, before crashing down on it beside Colin. The last thing he heard was a muffled sigh before slipping into unconsciousness.

 

Ryan walked along the darkened streets of lower Manhattan. His ears remained alerted to any sound that was made as he headed toward his destination. He was always on guard. In his line of work you couldn’t be too careful. He had just moved up in line on Morgan’s gang. He had gone from driving the transport trucks, to guarding one of Morgan’s lieutenants. It was a dangerous job indeed. He didn’t care for the fact that he had to bust heads more times than he could count, but he had yet to pull his gun on someone. He preferred to handle things the old fashioned way. 

 

He was on his way home from a dinner gala held by Morgan for a few of his new associates. They had just settled a deal to smuggle more alcohol from Canada across the border and into their territory. This would be a bigger deal than the booze runs in Chicago. Morgan’s rival gang was becoming stronger than ever out there and Morgan had to stay ahead of the game. By doing this, his men would need more protection. Each of his “next in line’s” needed someone they could trust with their lives guarding them at all times, and Morgan saw something special in the tall gangly kid he had taken on sometime back. He had given him the nic-name Legs Flamingo, to which Ryan still honored. He smiled as he walked down the street, remembering the day his boss handed him his new assignment. It meant something, in the eyes of the mob, to have someone’s life put in your hands.

 

The streets seemed too quiet that evening, Ryan remembered distastefully. He heard the sounds of his heels clicking on the pavement and heard the whistle of the wind in the trees. He heard a skittering behind him and he whirled, only to see a cat running away from an overturned garbage can. The street lights cast pale yellow orbs on sections of the sidewalk. Ryan tugged down on his fedora and continued to walk, picking up his pace. He heard what he thought was a foot-fall and a cough. Looking again, he saw nothing.

 

He was about a block away from his home when he heard it again. This time more rustling from behind. Ryan’s back stiffened. He knew for sure now that he was being followed. This was the time where your mind raced ahead of itself to come up with a plan to act cool, to stay nonchalant and to determine if this is death calling or just a not so friendly reminder. Ryan eased his hand into his inner coat pocket and released the button on his holster. The unmistakable sound of a gun cocking was heard behind him and he knew that time was up. He turned to face not one man standing behind him but five. 

 

“Say fellas, nice night for a stroll.” Ryan said casually not turning his back on the men in front of him.

 

One of the men grunted and stepped forward. He held a toothpick between his teeth and a revolver in his hand. “Youze Legs?” He said roughly. His pockmarked face had clearly seen better days, Ryan mused. Ryan knew better than to answer the question to his identity right away.

 

“I said, is youze Legs?” The mug repeated edging closer, his buddies not far behind. Ryan stared hard at the ‘leader’ refusing to answer and kept an eye on the men who were beginning to circle him.

 

“Ain’t gonna open yer yap, I see.” The guy said flicking his toothpick out and coming close to Ryan but still standing a foot shorter than Ryan. “This here’s an informal meeting between us and youze.” The guy said motioning his gun to the other guys to approach him from behind. 

 

“What if I ain’t willing to participate.” Ryan said backing up against a wall of a building. He didn’t want to have his back toward any of these guys, or anyone sneaking up on him for that matter. 

 

“The way I see’s it, you ain’t got much of a say in the matter.” The man said putting the gun up to Ryan’s chin. “Seein’ as Bugs didn’t have much say in it either when you messed up his face.”

 

Ryan’s mind raced to the night in which the bastard was referring to. Bugs was part of Capone’s group. They had sent some men out to have another so-called meeting with some of Morgan’s top guys. Ryan was there to keep order and when order got out of hand, so did he. Unfortunately, Capone’s gang didn’t fare well that evening. “That bastard had it comin’ to him.” Ryan said sneering defiantly at the barrel in his face. “And you mean to tell me you’re gonna take the chicken shit way out by rubbin’ me out here in the middle of the night, with that thing? Where’s your guts, asshole?” 

 

“Nah, it ain’t goin down like that.” The guy said smiling mischievously. “Like I said, this here’s just an informal gathering, a social call, if you will. Capone he don’t want you dead yet, see. But he does want you to take a message to your boss from him.” The other men started advancing on Ryan once again. 

 

Ryan couldn’t think of anything he could possibly do to avoid what happened next. He supposed in a way death would be better than what he was dealt with that night. At first the guys roughed him up by raining blows on his chest and stomach. He doubled over in pain and took every blow, landing punches when he could. Two of the guys grabbed hold of his arms holding him still as another continued to use him as his punching bag…Ryan struggled and fought hard. Curses issued from his mouth as they continued to mess up his face, breaking his nose and busting his lips. The leader of the gang stood off to the side letting his men get their work out. All the noise should have woken someone or alerted the police by now, Ryan thought, but then he regretfully remembered where he was. No one ratted anyone else out down here and this sort of thing happened all the time.

 

“You fucking bastards, LET ME GO!” Ryan said kicking with his powerful legs and making contact a time or two, earning him more agony. He didn’t see the leader coming up beside him once again. Ryan was gasping for breath and hanging from the arms of the two that were holding him up. He put the barrel of the pistol under Ryan’s chin again and lifted it. “You get the message?” He said coldly.

 

“Fuck you.” Ryan spat blood at him.

 

“As you wish.” The bull said as he proceeded to unzip his pants. Ryan’s eyes gaped open as he saw the man reach inside. 

 

“NO, OH NO!” He cried out as he began to struggle more. The man calmly pulled out his hardened cock. “See’n someone get the shit beat out of him does get me extra excited.” He said with a sly smirk. The two guys that were using their fists as meat tenderizers on Ryan now grabbed either side of his pants and yanked down hard. Ryan struggled and almost broke free. He kicked the head guy in the nuts and down he went. This earned him a several more blows across the face and he heard one of his legs snap as one of the bigger guys brought himself down on it. 

 

Ryan screamed out in pain and went down to his knees. “Hey Joey, you want me to 86’em now?” The big guy said over to his boss who was still trying to recover. 

 

“No…” Joey said through gritted teeth. “Capone don’t want that, just fuck him up and leave him.”

 

“My pleasure boss.” The big guy said pulling out his thick cock that stank of someone who hadn’t washed in weeks. Without warning he shoved it in Ryan’s face and nearly choked him as it rammed into his throat. Ryan gagged. “Fucking son of a bitch.” He said around the dick in his mouth. He tried to move but the pain from his leg caused him to cry out again. He bit down then hard. The big guy with the nasty dick screamed out and slammed Ryan’s head against the brick, nearly knocking him unconscious. 

 

“Get that bastard outta here.” Joey said after regaining his footing. The last thing Ryan remembered was being hauled down a dark alley and being forced face first onto a pile of wooden crates. ‘Never turn your back on them.’ He thought again as he felt the first intrusion into his tight unwilling flesh. He screamed over and over. 

Ryan shot up in bed. He let out a piercing scream that nearly shattered the glass in the dirty hotel room. Remembering where he was, he brought the palms of his hands to his eyes and willed the tears to go away. He would not cry. Colin hearing Ryan’s screams instantly bolted up and fluttered helplessly on the small mattress. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t remember how he got there and he certainly didn’t recall how he was now in the nude. He looked over at Ryan and saw him sitting there shaking and trembling. 

 

“Ryan…what…where…how?” Was all he could think to say. 

 

 

 

Comments

[the-empressar.livejournal.com]

Thankies for the visuals...no wait....that was me....sorry;) I'm going to be handing out "Poor Ryan" heart bandaids throughout these comments...here you go...enjoy the first one from the box....lookie it has blue shoes on it;) Thankies for commenting my sweetiest of hearts!!