❝ and whose fault is that?
must be yours. ❞
Neon lights flicker above their heads ― a kaleidoscope of yellow, lime green and the most lewd pink Amber has ever seen.
'Zorra' reads the sign. Something of a smirk shows on Seth's lips as his dark eyes come across it, but quickly it fades. The cornily shimmer letters gracing the stained wall fling him back to earlier times when he and Richie used to celebrate every so trivial score with a drink. He would keep his cool with a classic scotch, whereas Richard would go down the list of drinks like an excited school girl with a fake ID, and finally order whatever the heck his flighty self felt like. Even though, as Seth hates to admit, they have never found themselves seated in the cushioned seats of a place even close to the 'Zorra'. Despite some unfortunate exceptions, taste is something that runs naturally in the Geckos' blood. And this joint is everything but tasteful.
A stung feeling forms in the older Gecko's body. Were Richard to see him now, he would laugh right in Seth's face.
Amber, for her part, seems swept away by the scenery unfolding in front of her eyes as she enters. Seth can't tell if she's disgusted or curious, and suddenly he fears the location reminds her too much of the Twister's cruel beginnings. That the setting will trigger her, and then it'll be the mercado all over again.
His gaze darts her way in concern, but she is calm. Her eyes flow over the tables and stages in an almost too casual motion — dim red light streaming from every dark corner, dancing figures intertwining with smoke. Some look like flamingos to Amber, the way they curl their legs around the poles and stretch their smooth bodies up in the air.
For a moment, Seth finds himself captured by the simplicity of such a moment, watching her her from the sockets of his eyes, before she suddenly turns around, apparently well-fed with the sight. "Are we getting a drink or what?"
He slightly raises his brows at her words, because he can't help but think of the last time he had a drink with her, where it's all been different. Everything is different now.
"See those empty seats over there?" He points to the closest corner near the stage, just about the right angle to have everything in view. "Take a seat, I'll be there with some drinks in a few minutes."
"Fine."
"And remember — we're only here to check this place out, all right? Don't draw any attention to yourself," he says, and instantly he could give himself a smack. Has he seen her?
"A scotch," Amber suddenly says, momentarily throwing him off.
"What?"
"Get me a scotch."
"You sure you can handle that, Marsh?"
"You wanna bet?"
She's been sipping the cheap liquor that he buys occasionally and by now she actually has begun to like the heavy taste.
She gives him a smirk, and a similar one spreads across his features as he shakes his head at her, before heading to the bar. Another chuckle leaves his throat as he glances back over his shoulder to her figure, shuffling in between tables and dancers on top. Suddenly, his glance crosses other pairs of hungry eyes ― and his smirk fades. An impulsive aggression stirs inside him.
Those men that sit in their seats, swooning over the dancers with drunk lust, they have found new interest in the young woman passing them nonchalantly. With bitterness prickling his blood, Seth realizes the attention she draws, and reconsiders his decision to bring her here with him. Next time he'll keep her away from those perverts.
The Gecko is so caught up in the moment that he almost doesn't realize that the pretty barista has already turned her full attention to him.
"Something for you, handsome?" Her slinky, Hispanic accent makes him finally shift his attention, if only reluctantly.
"A scotch and a. . . uh", he says, and for a split second fails to keep his eyes on her strongly black-lined eyes — he blames her strongly revealing attire. "You know what, make it two classic scotch whiskies."
A drink for old time's sake.
The barista's off to prepare the drinks and the Gecko leans with his elbow against the counter, letting his eyes roam the place.
He spots two cameras in opposite corners of the room, still granting a bit of the privacy the audience that comes here seeks out. If a place like this is properly packed with cameras, it means good money, a good score, and a good amount of people filling this place from time to time. Amber has been right ― the party that's planned for the following day must be quite the event.
"Is that your candy over there?"
Hearing the words in the midst of music and Spanish language, Seth turns his head the raspy voice's way. He comes face to face with a bearded pal who reminds the Gecko of his high school's old caretaker, sporting the same dark mustache and bushy brows. Only this one looks like a loner version of him with a look in his eyes that screams for obscenity.
"If you refer to the young woman over there, then she's with me," Seth replies with suspicion burning his temples. This big old bastard better stays the hell away from her.
"May I ask where you gathered this sweet peach? I've been on the lookout and couldn't spot a piece like that in a whole while now."
There are so many things that make the Gecko's blood shoot to his fists in this instant, but his dark eyes remain on the man, stone-cold seizing him up like he better not make a move.
The man notices his tense posture.
"Hey, hey, I'm not bothering man. But I'm tellin' you, with all these hermanos here you better not leave your angel out of your sight. I've seen the way they eyed her up, wouldn't want anyone to do that with my candy."
Seth clenches his jaw at the man's words, before the barista places the drinks in front of him.
The man only raises his hands in surrender. "Just an advice." And Seth's dark eyes wander his way again, and he looks like a loose cannon, with an expression etched on his face that makes the man fall silent. Seth must look insane, but he doesn't care. He'd go completely different lengths to keep what he cherishes most these days.
When he's approaching their seats, a drink in each hands, the shift of strippers changes and a new group appears on stage. The place is properly full, with males making over 90 percent of its audience. The only other 10 percent consist of the staff and the small brunette he puts the drink down in front of.
"Thank you." With a smile, Amber watches him place the drink in front of her, before plopping down on the seat next to her. "I like this place."
He almost chokes on his scotch. Did she just say she likes it here?
"You should take me to these kind of things more often," she states, waiting for him to show any kind of reaction before breaking into a chuckle. For some reason, nowadays, it's easier to throw him off and Amber finds it utterly amusing.
"I'm not sure it's the right place for someone like you, sunshine," Seth replies hesitantly.
"Oh, I don't know. It's not that bad. Even though nothing compares to the Twister."
At the name of the bar he can feel a lump at the base of his throat and his eyes shoot her way. She's joking, he knows. That's her way to deal with it. But for some reason he's unable to respond with the same amount of sarcasm.
Probably because he feels like the biggest bastard for being the reason this all happened to her in the first place.
The shift of dancers changes, and briefly a male voice announces in Spanish who the following girls will be.
Seth clears his throat, his eyes unintentionally wandering over to the other men in the audience. "Listen," he says with a heavy heart, well-aware the young woman won't like the following, but it's for the best, "I've changed my mind about the job. You chose it and I'll do it. You'll wait in the motel."
Amber's bright expression fades, and he hates himself so much that moment.
She places her drink in front of her, her face a huge question mark.
"I don't get it. You said we were gonna do this thing together." She's confused as she leans back and visibly irritated, but she decides to stay calm for now, and for that he appreciates her. "What happened?"
Seth brings the glass to his lips again. He knew he shouldn't take her out like this. It's enough trouble to worry about her in the motel, and under those prying eyes he can't focus on anything other than making sure no one touches her. And he's here for the job after all. "I said we'll check out the place together." He sets his drink down again, taking in her frown with an equally bitter expression.
"Why won't you let me help you? You don't have to do it all on your own."
"You wanna help me?" She nods. "Stay out of it."
He can hear her huff, but his eyes avoid coming across hers. She doesn't have to know the reason for his change of mind.
Amber looks away, hurt.
She knew it.
She fucking knew it.
Of course he wasn't serious before about trusting her to do this job with him, he doesn't take her serious. He doesn't want her in this world of crime. His world.
"Amber," he says as he continuous to watch her expression sink, and he sounds so apologetic that she decides to glance at him. "This whole thing, it's not right for you to do it. Do you really want to get your hands dirty like this?"
"Don't give me that crap about how it's a poor life-decision again," it shoots out of her, and Seth raises his brows. What a pistol.
"Trust me," he sighs, reconsidering his careful way of approach after all, "you don't wanna be tangled up in this shit, not the way―"
"The way you are?"
She raises her brows.
He looks at her. "You know what I mean."
She rolls her eyes, and after that lets them drift off to the stage to the new dancers.
"I'll tell you what," Seth concludes, "Finish your drink, in the meanwhile, I'll check out downstairs. I'll be gone for a minute, don't move, all right?"
"Where should I go?" she answers pissed, and he only closes his eyes at her words, soaking in all the blame.
"Just wait here."
And under her breath he can hear her say, "It's not like I got much of a choice."
Now it's him who rolls his eyes, but disappears anyway, but not without checking for the creepy old dude again. If he comes back and finds him anywhere near the girl, Seth will knock his lights out.
Amber continues to watch the dancers swing their hips on the stage, and it feels just like the Twister again.
On their way home, she still doesn't speak to him.
They get to their usual spot in the parking lot of the motel, but before she can get out he locks the doors, causing her to turn around to him. "What the hell?"
Seth draws in a deep breath, resting his hands on the wheel. After all, the guilt is eating at him whenever he looks at her.
"Listen," he says suddenly, looking so serious and staring straight ahead. "About this job... it's not your fault I changed my mind." He pauses briefly, observing her reaction, but she only listens patiently.
"This old bastard," he then continues, turning to stare straight ahead again. "A guy, that came up to me at the bar, he said some things that made me worry. So, I thought it'd be best if I did this alone."
"What things?"
He sighs again, still no eye contact. "Just stuff, you know ... about me better keeping an eye on you or otherwise some guy will... you know."
Amber's eyes slowly wander up to him again. She continues to stare at the Gecko, before he finally looks her way. Her heart flutters.
"It's just that so far, I've done a shitty job at keeping you safe," he says, "and I don't wanna continue doing that."
"Seth," she voices slowly. "I'm not your responsibility."
He looks her way. God, she looks enticing under the street light. "Yeah," he brings out, "you are."
"No I'm not," she instantly shoots back, shaking her head. "I've never been. I chose to go with you, it was my decision. And I am ready to deal with the consequences of that decision."
"Consequences?"
"You know what I mean."
"Do I?"
She draws in a breath, turning to fully face him. "Look, stop worrying so much and give this thing a try. At one point or another, you'll need a partner, or you'll be caught and your next ride goes back to prison. And guess what ― I won't be able to bust you out like Richie did. Even if I wanted to."
He stares at her, too many things swarming in his mind but he can't help but focus on one particular.
"You'd want to get me out of prison, huh?"
"Is that the only thing you got from what I was saying?"
"Not entirely," he answers with a smug smirk, feeling a bit too cocky for his own good. "But I do get the part about you not being capable of separating from me. I get that."
"Jerk," she says, and attempts to get out of the car, only to once again realize it's locked. She turns her head back, eyes fiery, despite that cool green color. "Open the door."
He gives her a look. "Magic word?"
"Now, asshole."
He chuckles and watches her a few seconds longer struggling to open the door, before he figures that he's teased her enough now, and unlocks the car.
But before she can exit immediately, he holds her back by grabbing her arm. "Amber," he clears his throat. "I'm sorry, all right. The Vixen ― we're in this together, so we'll do it together."
She only looks at him, like she's sick of him changing his mind every few minutes.
"Smart move."
She exits the car, heading inside their room, and as Seth follows her, slowly shaking his head at her, he thinks, partner. Look what happened to his last one.
Like he's ever gonna risk losing her like that.
She does her make-up in the bathroom as he buttons up the black shirt, catching a glimpse of the girl through the slit of the door.
She comes out after a few minutes ― with the few belongings that she has, Seth hardly believes she will be able to do a lot. He wouldn't be able to tell a difference anyway, since her beauty goes beyond measures like physical appearance.
Nonetheless, he feels obligated to tell her that she looks good tonight ― more than she usually already does ― because she looks fucking stunning.
Her warm chocolate hair is naturally wavy, but now it slightly curls at the ends, and it looks like she's done something with her face that makes it glow, like after a nice sun-bath in the afternoon shine, and her lips are painted in a subtle pink that resembles her natural lip color. All this, plus the dress, which is really nothing the Gecko hasn't seen before, but on her it looks new, different ― everything is different.
"Nice dress," is all he comments, but it's enough for her to smile at him, and he feels his heart warm up at her reaction ― damn right, he makes her smile. That's what he does.
"Thanks," she chimes, obviously in a good mood. "I bought it at a store in the mercado, the sales lady told me that it compliments my eyes."
For sure it does not only compliment your eyes, the Gecko thinks and catches himself checking her out too long for his own liking, only tearing his eyes away from her body after what feels like a minute. She doesn't notice, though ― or at least he thinks ― thank God; and he can continue to make out in his mind what the material must feel like between his fingers.
She walks over to the commode, stuffing her other clothes in there. "You don't look bad yourself either," she admits, pointing with her head to his clean-cut shirt and his trimmed stubbles.
"All right, enough with the shower of compliments," he quickly states and grabs his gun from the table, shoving it into his waistband, and Amber narrows her eyes. Oddly, he's began to act slightly awkward with her. Whenever she says something nice he behaves like he doesn't want to hear it, like he's too uncomfortable hearing something not loaded with irritation for a change. Amber doesn't mind, the only thing she wants is that they are on good terms and he involves her in his plans. She wants them to become a two-head working team.
"Let's ride, Marsh."
Amber nods, grabbing her jacket from the dresser, before walking past him outside. Passing him, a fresh smell hits her nose that she figures is the product of his own musk and his shower gel, and for once he doesn't smell like sweat and stress, but like the laid-back Gecko she remembers from the Dew Drop Inn. The memory makes her swallow, as it accompanies everything aside from peacefulness for her.
Seth slams the car door shut, checking twice if it's locked. The car is one of the few things he considers a possession ― these days it's a rare thing for him. He's succumbed to the lifestyle of a lowlife even more than he used to, and his ego is in a constant battle over his pride, wrinkling its nose at everything he deems below his level.
Amber has managed to make him change his mind, and he has a bad feeling about it. There's nothing as sharp as his intuition, and Seth rarely goes against it. But then again, he's not his brother, he actually manages to stick to the plan that leads to the most success, so what can go wrong?
The Vixen place swarms with people, young woman on these extremely high heels they can barely walk on, and men who have a look like they've arrived in paradise. Side by side they make their way to the club, entering a place that is far more filled with people than it was two days ago. It's already past 3 am, and Seth assumes the whole party will be blown out by 4, max 5. That's when they will act.
The Vixen place even arranged a bouncer this night ― it must be a hell of a party. But then again, party means people, and one never knows what kind of those could be trouble.
A 4-head group of drunk juveniles stumbles outside, each one clinging to the next for support in this dizzy state, and the bouncer is momentarily distracted before he returns his attention to the Gecko and the girl and approves their entrance with a nod.
Next to Amber, Seth could probably get inside any place he likes, he believes, because trouble is the last thing she seems like. Tonight it is a good thing, and no one will notice that he got a gun in his waistband, a stake inside his suit pocket and a damn lot of hunger for a good score.
Inside, Amber leans against the bar and orders a drink while he checks out the place just in case something has changed. It makes it a lot easier that everything's the same as it was ― apart from all the seats pulled aside to create a dance floor ― with two cameras in two opposite corners of the room like he remembered, and the same small staircase leading down to the restrooms and the staff changing rooms.
He's absorbed in his observance of the place as Amber sips from her drink and steps on her toes, coming so close he can sense the liquor she just downed still linger in her warm breath. "Thank you," she says over the loud music, and he looks at her, uncertain what she means. "For not leaving me alone at the motel," she adds, and the way she says it suddenly shakes something in him awake.
From her perspective, it wasn't that much about not being involved in his doings, but perhaps more about being left alone altogether. While he's enclosing himself, he's isolating her, and she needs company just as much as he does. Only that he, whenever he wants it, takes it from her, while she cannot demand. For that, he's too dominant.
"I got a new idea yesterday. I could sneak back and pretend to be one of the new dancers, snatch some money from their changing rooms."
He looks at her. "You've been watching too much TV, Marsh." He notices her expression darkening. "Apart from that, I ain't messing with any pimps," Seth states. "Not tonight."
"Fine," Amber retorts. "Then go on with your part and I'll sneak through the crowd. Meet you outside."
"All right, but be careful. Can't have any trouble, remember? Or soon you gonna have to visit me in that prison cell."
She chuckles at his words. "Fine now, go."
He gives her a last look, before he realizes something.
"Shit," he suddenly hisses, his hands roaming his pockets but there is now way he will find what he's looking for.
"What?"
"The bag for the money," he says, "It's still in the backseat of the car."
Who's the pro now?
Amber sighs. "Should I get it?"
"No, you stay exactly where you are. Don't move. I'll be back in a minute." He gives her a meaningful look, and against all his instincts, he leaves the girl at the bar.
Seth's hardly been gone for half a minute and Amber turns around to face a young man on the stool next to her. He's babbling in Spanish, and she has difficulties to comprehend a word on account of the loud noises booming in her ears. Apart from that, she's sure he's not entirely sober either, and the way he begins to edge closer has her jump from her stool.
She doesn't look back as she continues to walk down the bar, before ― and against Seth's commands ― slipping into the dancing crowd.
She figures Seth will execute his part with finesse as soon as he's back, and she wants to prove her capability of doing the same to him. He finally needs to start looking at her like she's looking at him. Like they're partners.
It is an absurd sensation to move between the people, pretend like she's got no trouble in the world but what club to visit next, or what drink to get after, when in reality Amber is on edge, and she feels like her pupils must be the size of the moon, with the amount of adrenaline and paranoia her body is running on.
It takes her a while to check out the people around her, and what she's about to do she has never done before ― just as she pretends to move further down the crowd, she slips her hands into the purse of the girl to her left. The brunette seems too drunk to notice; grinding against another man that's shorter than her, with her small velvet purse swinging around her hips. Amber pretends to be stuck in the crowd, to not be able to move further, while her panicked fingers attempt to get hold of anything that feels close to money or a card.
Just as the girl changes her position, Amber snaps and pulls her hand away, quickly moving on to the next. She doesn't look into anyone's eyes as her hands find the small pockets of her own dress, and she continues to make her way through the crowd.
The next girl she targets is even shorter than herself, and Amber finds it hard to detect the spot where she hides her money, until she realizes that the girl must have stored it in her bra. Amber's glance is laced by light nervousness as it continues to roam the people around her.
Soon it stops on a man with a watch around his wrist as shiny as his teeth, and he almost looks like one of those white-collar boys. Amber finds herself confused ― one as himself is the last person she expected to see in a place like this.
He dances in between girls, and Amber becomes one of them as she moves around him like a butterfly around a flower, and he notices her then, comes closer, begins to adjust to her motion. Soon she feels his hands feel her waist up, bringing her into a more intimate position, and her gut twists. She wants to go through this fast, but the girl has clearly underestimated his drunk state because as she has her hand in the pocket of his jeans, he grabs it, holding it tight in his grip so Amber grimaces in pain.
"¡Puta! You little whore!" He barks over the music, but Amber tears away, with no one around realizing what just happened.
Her mind only screams flight, and before the man knows, the girl has disappeared through the crowd.
She gets out of like her life depends on it, and she notices the bartender has made the last call and the people around her are notably disappointed, reluctantly shuffling past her outside. With panic, Amber's eyes shoot through the room, desperately trying to find Seth, but he's nowhere, he's gone.
And as she sees the man make his way through the crowd to find her, because the black leather wallet is no longer in his possession but the girl's, Amber's eyes flee to the full entrance, but there is no one entering anymore. And with that she realizes, she's on her own.
"Look, I really need to get inside." Seth is full of impatience as he stares at the bouncer, who is occupied checking the guests who stumble outside.
"Party is over," he states with broken English.
"I know, I know, but see, uh, do you remember the girl I came with here? That pretty, little brunette? I left her in there, let me just get her out."
The bouncer looks suspicious, like he's not recognizing Seth at all. "Club is closing in 10 minutes, you can wait outside for her."
"You gotta be shitting me." The Gecko drags a hand down his face. "Look, man, she's my girlfriend, and she's in there alone. I need to get her out. Now."
The bouncer stares at him, his look crossed by intimidation. "Shouldn't have left her there alone in the first place, sí amigo?"
Seth stares at the man, raising his brows in challenge, but there seems to be no way inside that doesn't involve causing more trouble than they already planned on causing.
The Gecko steps back, rubbing his neck as profanities escape his lips. This is not according to the plan.
She's got no gun, no plan, only a stake, but that will not get her far in robbing this joint.
Amber is nail-bitingly nervous as she hurries down the stairs to the restrooms. She throws a look back upstairs, where the crowd is slowly decreasing in size, and the man is probably trying to find the thief that stole his money. Even though she has made sure no one notices her sprint downstairs, paranoia gets the best of the girl. Soon she finds herself standing in a small hallway that reeks of urine and smoke, and as she pushes the door to the women's restroom open, she lets out a gasp.
"Seth? What the―"
"Fucking hell, Amber," Seth exhales in stress, lowering his gun. Sweat shines on his forehead as he takes in the girl, and the worry vanishes from his mind.
"Where have you been?" Amber questions and closes the door behind her. She briefly checks whether the two toilet seats are empty and continues to listen to the Gecko, while realizing that it must have been the window above one of the toilets that he's got inside through.
"This bouncer," Seth begins, still slightly panting, "he gave me a hard time, so I decided to kick in one of the windows in the basement." His eyes briefly scan her up and down, as she finally stands in front of him again. "Are you all right?"
"I am," Amber breathes, heart still racing from the shock. "But we need get this thing done now. Most people are already leaving."
Seth only nods, and points for her to go outside first. "You know what to do."
Amber gives him a knowing look, before taking the stairs again and reaching a club that is almost empty. A few people have stayed seated in the corners of the room, kissing and pulling and making out, while the staff attempts to throw them out to clean the place.
Amber gets into her position as soon as Seth appears at the counter with the till, and aims his gun at the bartender standing behind it, sorting the new gains.
"Do yourself a favor, hermano," he orders the man, still feeling slightly on edge. "Hand over the money."
The bartender remains frozen on the spot, and everyone inside soon gets wind of the heated situation. Amber sits at the counter next to them, and her eyes move from Seth to the bartender, who is reluctant of what to do. The fact that there is a barrel pointed right into his face excludes any kind of reflex to move, because the bullets waiting to be released are faster than he could ever run.
With shock sitting deep, the bartender doesn't do anything, and the other waitresses only stare at the scene, as though paralyzed.
"C'mon. I ain't got all day." He sounds impatient, but above all nervous, and Amber is confused, because this can't be the first spur-of-the-moment robbery Seth Gecko has to manage.
A new idea washes over her.
Amber suddenly looks at Seth, her expression laced with fear.
"Please," she begs, and out of the blue, her voice echoes timid panic. "Please, don't hurt anyone."
And it's only then that the Gecko realizes what the girl is playing, and he understands in an instant, before he roughly pulls her from her seat and grabs her by her waist, shoving the gun into her temple.
"Do you want this pretty little lady to die instead?" Seth asks the bartender with raised brows, and at that the young man behind the cash register seems to flinch. Jackpot.
"Put all the money in this bag." While Seth gives orders, all the people around stare at the scene with dread. The bartender hesitates, but as Amber begins to sob in fear, he brings out, "¡Vale, vale! I'll do it, but don't hurt the girl."
"If you do what I say, we're not gonna have any trouble here," Seth sets straight and watches with impatience as the bartender fills the bag with the money the drink from the evening have made. A sour taste remains in the Gecko's mouth nonetheless, because with all the gloriously smooth jobs he and his brother pulled, this one has caused him the most agitation. Apart from that, tough guy from the entrance could show up, and Seth is more than convinced that one carries a gun as well.
As soon as the bag is full, Seth releases Amber from his grip and grabs the money. His gun continues to be pointed at the girl's head though, and as he pushes her outside, they pass the bouncer and crowd with eerie tension.
Everything happens fast.
Amber recognizes the neat corvette parked right where she remembered, in a corner not far from the road. And as soon as they've reached it with hurried steps, relieved over the score, all of a sudden, Seth is slammed onto the car deck by someone, and with big eyes Amber watches as the person is the man who caught her on the dance floor with both her hands in his pockets.
And it's then that Seth doesn't hesitate. He snatches his gun from his belt again, and the man finds himself looking into the end of a dark barrel.
"Get the fuck off me," Seth barks, and the man raises his hands in surrender, like he's sobering up all of a sudden at the sight of the gun, but the anger is still residing in his look. "And don't give me that look, I know you hablas inglés. Get the hell away or you're gonna answer to Mr. 44 instead of me. Do you prefer that, amigo?"
Amber watches the scene with big eyes, but as soon as they come across Seth and he points to the car, wordlessly, she understands. He tosses her the car keys and she hurries to the driver's seat, with Seth soon following. She's already inside, turning on the engine, as Seth jumps in next to her and tells her to go.
"That was a fine idea back there." He is fried as he speaks, and the emotions of the evening rebound in his eyes as he glances her way.
"It's not all," she states.
And then, out of the blue, she pulls out the money and wallet from the pockets of her dress, and Seth looks at her, like he could kiss her for that right now, but he only continuous to smirk.
And now, all he can think of is that there might be only one thing left for him to attain ― but this one thing does not happen to be money.