Personal Jesus (Twiggy Ramirez and Marilyn Manson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 19

Frowning in thought, I skimmed over the details in my mind and made an attempt to organize my thoughts enough to let everything sink in.

"So... everyone and anyone who has previous convictions or are in hiding... use this place a lot?" I murmured.

"Yeah." Thomas nodded. "Honestly, this place is like the mall for those guys. It's where they gamble, sell, buy, lay low, hire people or get hired. I honestly don't know how Jax got tied up in it all, she never told me. I can't believe they couldn't care less that she's still so young, they really are scum." He made a face as if he'd smelt something vile.

"There's one thing that also bothers me..." I continued.

"What?"

"Well... once they have their money, are they just gonna leave it there? Jax cheated them out of their own game, and is obviously making a fool out of them all by dodging them for this long. Surely doing something like that would have repercussions?"

"Yeah, she's honestly digging herself deeper with this one."

"That's an understatement." I sighed. "Would they even let her live after all she's done?"

"I honestly don't know. She needs help, and she needs it now. If they find her and she still doesn't have the money..." Thomas gulped, hard.

Oh Jax...

I gnawed on my already chewed up lips, unintentionally making them crack and bleed. I thought of Jax, grinning around a handful of overweight, balding low-lives with plump, worn cigars sticking out from between their yellowing teeth. It was so absurd to imagine, like holding a photo of a glorious meadow next to a grimy prison cell.

How could this be our only option?

"What are you thinking?" Thomas eventually asked me.

"If we're gonna clear Jax's debt, we're gonna need quite a fair amount of money." I told him.

"No shit!" He rolled his eyes.

"And if we're going to ever move closer to finding Twiggy..." I swallowed against the painful tightening in my throat. "We're going to have to find people that could possibly know the whereabouts of his dad..."

"I don't get how those two add up?" Thomas made a face. "How are we gonna get lots of money and find some sort of clue as to where Twiggy is?"

I raised an eyebrow and stared at him, patiently waiting for him to grasp it.

"What? They're two unrelated..." Thomas stopped mid sentence, his expression shifting from frustration to shock. "No way!"

"Have we got any other options?" I pointed out.

"But...we...it's..." He spluttered, not wanting to accept it.

"I know," I sighed. "But this is all we have to go on."

"You seriously think we're gonna just burst into a room of professional gamblers, somehow win a copious amount of money for Jax, find information on the whereabouts of Twiggy and his bastard of a dad... and walk out unscathed?"

Thomas was bug eyed, his tone incredulous; he stared at me as if I'd grown a second head.

"What else do you think we should do?" I snapped. "Come on then, let's hear your list of fantastic ideas."

"How about not getting ourselves killed!" He snapped back. "Seriously! We'll be in way over our heads there!"

"I know that!" I huffed. "But what choice do we have? Do we just keep picking the streets of towns further and further away, even though they've given us no success and we're still not even a fraction closer to finding Twiggy? Do we just stick our head in the sand and pretend some pissed off sleaze balls don't want Jax's head on a stick?"