GHAK!
Jensen's agonized scream jolted Dixie out of her transfixed state. Her eyes snapped back into focus.
Dixie whipped her head around towards the second-floor training room, eyes narrowing, breath quickening. She remembered Rex kept guns there.
Below, Jensen's screams continued. Rex had an arm locked around Lauren's neck, trying to haul him off, but Lauren's jaw was clamped shut, locked rigid. Rex couldn't risk pulling harder.
"Melissa!! Where the hell is she?!" Sherry's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. She gestured sharply for someone to find Melissa.
BANG!
The shot echoed. A crimson flower bloomed on Lauren's chest.
Women shrieked. The crowd surged in renewed panic, a chaotic push-pull. Only Sherry and her core group froze, their expressions hardening instantly.
Who fired?
Rex looked up. His eyes locked onto Dixie. She stood on the landing, pistol gripped in both hands, eyes wide, chest heaving slightly.
"F*ck! You little sh*t!!" Rex felt his blood boil. Ice-blue eyes blazing with fury, he roared, "Drop the gun!!"
Dixie's pupils trembled. She stared fixedly downward, the acrid tang of gunpowder still clinging to the barrel, stinging her nerves.
"Dixie!" Even Sherry dropped the 'little one', her tone iron-hard. "Drop the gun. Now. Obey!"
Jensen, clutching his savaged neck, managed to kick the dying Lauren off him. Gasping, he too looked up at Dixie on the second floor.
The expressions on all three were profoundly complex.
Dixie, however, remained transfixed by the body on the floor. Her nostrils flared.
The first shot missed his heart. The thought screamed in her mind.
"Did you hear me?! Drop it!!"
As if defying Rex, Dixie fired again.
BANG!
The bullet pierced the heart, pinning the weakly stirring Lauren definitively to the floor.
"You f*cking psycho!"
Rex snarled, shoving through the scattering crowd. Murderous rage radiated from him as he charged towards Dixie.
Sherry spared one glance at the enraged Rex but dismissed him. She barked orders at Will and a young man to restore order, then bent to help Jensen up. "…Alive?"
Jensen gritted his teeth, shaking his head. He pressed a hand to his bandaged neck, his gaze fixed on Dixie, still standing rigidly in place. "…That… that little b*stard?"
By the time Rex reached the top of the stairs, radiating terrifying fury, Dixie had turned. Her dark eyes met his as he stormed towards her.
The gun was still clutched in her hand. Unmoving.
"You little sh*t!!"
Rex wrenched the pistol from her grip. His open hand flew.
SMACK!
The blow snapped Dixie's head sideways. Blood trickled instantly from the corner of her mouth.
"Out of your f*cking mind?! Firing here?!" Rex hauled her up by the collar, yanking her close. His furious voice was a low growl. "You want me to dump you on Watanabe's bed tomorrow? Is that it?!"
Dixie's hands clutched his wrist. Her eyes, unwavering, stared directly into his furious blue ones. She pressed her bleeding lips together. Silent.
…
Downstairs, amidst the lingering chaos, several enforcers and Melissa finally arrived, breathless.
"What happened?!" Melissa demanded, eyes blazing.
"Lauren's dead," Sherry said, her pale green eyes fixed on Melissa's strained expression. "Darling, you're late."
"He's dead! Why call me?!"
Sherry shrugged towards the body in the spreading pool of blood. "Was going to ask for a sedative. Too late now."
"Who fired?" Melissa couldn't help but frown. "Absolute f*cking lunatic."
Sherry stepped closer, patting Melissa's shoulder with a strained smile, nodding towards Lauren. "Darling, he snapped. Do me a favor. Tell me why."
"…Had to be the drugs," Melissa muttered, grimacing. She gestured impatiently to two enforcers. "D*mn it, get this trash out of here."
Sherry watched Lauren's blood-soaked corpse being dragged away, arms crossed, leaning against the bar. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
…
Rex glared at Dixie's silent, bleeding defiance. He pressed his tongue hard against his cheek, then nodded sharply. Hauling her up by the collar, he dragged her bodily down the second-floor corridor towards a small, unmarked door at the end.
Dixie's feet left the ground. Her eyes flew wide. She kicked wildly, struggling, her hands clawing at the iron grip on her collar.
Rex ignored her. He wrenched open the heavy door to the black room – a cramped, windowless storage closet often used for punishment – and threw her inside.
Dixie hit the floor hard. She scrambled up instantly, lunging for the door just as it slammed shut with a heavy *CLANG!* She collided with solid metal.
"Ungh!"
Dixie wiped her nose. She slammed her fists against the door. BANG! BANG! BANG!
"REX!!"
Silence answered from the other side. Dixie stopped pounding. She stared at the cold metal door for a long moment. Finally, her shoulders slumped. She turned, surveying the cramped, pitch-black space.
It was barely a room. Dried bloodstains darkened the concrete floor. Leftovers from beatings, or worse.
Dixie slid down the wall, sitting on the stained floor. In the absolute darkness, her eyes seemed unnaturally bright, fixed unblinkingly on the sealed door.
Rex hadn't left. He stood right outside. When Dixie yelled his name, his clenched jaw twitched.
Sherry sauntered over. Rex leaned against the corridor wall, his face thunderous, meticulously wiping the pistol with his shirt, focusing on the grip where fingerprints would be.
Seeing Sherry, Rex straightened slightly. His grim expression eased a fraction. He raised an eyebrow towards the sealed door.
Sherry's lips curved in a wry, almost playful smile. "Quite the troublemaker, isn't she."
Rex just snorted derisively.
Sherry stepped up to the black room door. She bent slightly, rapping her knuckles twice on the cold metal. "Little one?"
Dixie scrambled to her feet instantly at the sound of Sherry's voice. She gripped the inside handle, her gaze burning through the metal towards Sherry.
Realizing Sherry couldn't see her, she finally called out, "Here."
Sherry couldn't help a small smile, but it faded quickly. Her voice turned serious. "Little one. Killing isn't permitted in Burman Bar."
"…"
No sound came from within. Sherry could almost picture the stubborn set of Dixie's jaw. She sighed, a look of weary resignation crossing her face as she glanced at Rex.
Rex raised an eyebrow back.
Silence stretched inside the room. Finally, Dixie's muffled voice came through: "…What happened to Lauren?"
"…"
Sherry's expression tightened. She straightened, her tone gaining an edge of warning as she tapped the door again. "Little one. That's not your concern."
Behind the door, the fierce light in Dixie's eyes dimmed. After another pause, a sullen "Oh" drifted out.
Sherry arched an eyebrow but said nothing. She turned, hands slipping into her pockets, about to walk away when a tiny, hesitant voice came from inside the iron cell.
"…Sorry."
"…"
Sherry's step faltered. Her pale green eyes widened slightly. Even Rex's hands stilled on the gun.
Unable to see their reaction, Dixie paused, then mumbled, even softer, barely audible: "…And Rex."
"…"
Sherry burst out laughing, shaking her head, casting a look of pure amusement at Rex.
Rex's face flushed with awkwardness. His brow twitched. He looked down, fidgeting with the pistol.
Sherry composed herself, clearing her throat. She tapped the door again. "Little one?"
Dixie's soft "Mm?" came back.
"Why apologize?"
Silence.
"If it's because you're afraid of being sent away," Sherry continued, her voice softening slightly, a hint of her earlier smile returning, "I'm afraid you might be disappointed."
Still no sound from the cell.
"…"
Rex raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the door. Sherry met his look with a meaningful one of her own, shrugged, and fell into step beside him as they walked back towards the main bar area.
"You seriously thinking of shipping her off?" Rex asked after a few paces, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"You were right. Watanabe's a viable option," Sherry replied lightly, pulling out her cigarette case and offering one to Rex. He waved it away.
"Hmm, your habits are… interesting," Sherry remarked with mock disappointment, lighting one for herself. She took a slow drag.
"Smoke messes with judgment," Rex muttered, eyes narrowing. "If that little psycho causes trouble for Watanabe, we're all f*cked."
"Mmm," Sherry exhaled a plume of smoke, looking at Rex with keen interest. "What kind of trouble do you think she could cause?"
"…" Rex shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, silent.
"Relax," Sherry chuckled, patting Rex's muscular shoulder. "Just scaring her a little. A joke."
"…" Rex took a deep breath, his expression still grim. He nodded curtly. "Fine. Your problem now. I'm checking on Lauren."
Sherry raised an eyebrow. "Lauren?"
Rex paused. He ran his tongue over his teeth, a spark of something darkly excited flashing in his eyes. "If I'd wanted Lauren dead? That'd have been the perfect way to do it."
Sherry's eyebrow climbed even higher.
…
In the infirmary, Melissa cursed steadily as she cleaned Jensen's neck wound.
Jensen sat grim-faced, one hand pressed to the thick bandage, an IV drip in his other arm. On the adjacent bed, separated only by a curtain, lay Lauren's corpse.
"D*mn it! Can't you move him?! Lookin' at him makes my neck hurt!"
Melissa glared up at him. "Got the strength to move him yourself? D*mn it! Don't like it? Look the other way!"
The door banged open. Rex leaned against the frame, his gaze sweeping over the stiff form on the other bed.
"Melissa. What happened?"
Melissa's expression soured, but she didn't snap back. She tossed the completed autopsy report at Rex. "Drug fit. Lost his mind. F*cking waste of my time."
Rex flipped through the report carelessly and tossed it aside. He glanced at Jensen on the bed, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and tossed it to him. "Holding up?"
"F*cking hurts like hell," Jensen grumbled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a deep, shaky drag. "Sh*t."
Rex offered a humorless smile. He turned his attention back to Melissa, leaning against the doorframe. "Get here sooner next time. He might've avoided getting chomped."
Melissa snorted, plucking a cigarette from Jensen's pack. "Stop relying on me like I'm God. I'm not."
Rex just gave a dismissive "Hah." He walked over to Lauren's body, nudging the stiff jawline with his knuckles, then rubbing his fingers together thoughtfully.
Melissa watched him, arms crossed over her chest. She jerked her chin towards the corpse. "His nerves were fried. Even without those bullets, he was a walking corpse. Wouldn't have lasted."
"…"
Rex raised an eyebrow but said nothing.