I was quiet for sometime. My memories flinging back into the past at the rapordy of gunfire that took away my family. It has been almost ten years since and I have yet to shed a tear over my loss. I stared ahead now clear eyed and clinical. Replaying the incident in my mind. It had been my brother who stepped up in front of me then pulled me under him when he collapsed blood spewing from his lips and several cavities in his body. It was my brother Jack who gave his life saving my worthless hide. Until today I have never understood why he'd done that. The authorities had been all over the sight only minutes after the guns fell silent. One would have thought they'd arranged it... then waited for one family of ruffians to murder another. It wouldn't be the first time they'd done it. And now since I know the intimate workings of the police I was better able to place the blame.
"I know it was the Roston's but it was at the order of the Kingpin and he is now dead, no?" I said softly as if threading a brittle memory.
"Dead at your hands," Claude murmured agreeably.
I nodded my head. Anxious to do away with this sordid topic. I want sex. I wanted Claude. I wanted to loose myself in pleasure. Was that too much to ask?
Having lived a decade in a frozen shell it was time I felt something. Felt anything.
Turning to face Claude and reading the anguish clear on his face I realised he needed this too. Even if he had spent the better part of that decade in the pursuit of such pleasure. Living from day to day with total disregard to responsibilities beyond that day. He has lived in decadence and sin.
It was my now turn to do so too.