Page 10 of Bootlegacy

CHAPTER 10

  Frankie had been true to his word that I did not have to see the inside of the men’s washroom. From what I’d seen in the ladies room, I was in no hurry to see how much worse the men’s could get, although it is funny how quickly you get used to something. Just over a day ago, I was horrified to see what several dozen girls could do to a restroom in a single night, but by the time the cops had shown up, I’d managed to make several trips and hadn’t even been thinking about the germs by the end. I had other, more important things to think about.

  Like Frankie.

  We approached a door marked ‘Broom Closet.’

  “We have to hurry, we can’t let anyone see,” Frankie said. I quickened my steps to keep up with the gentle tug on my arm.

  The door opened into complete and utter darkness, even darker than I’d remembered from before.

  “I’ll have to see about getting that light fixed,” he said as the door shut behind us, leaving us blind. “It’s not far this time.”

  I smiled, though I supposed he wasn’t able to see me in the darkness of the tunnel. I made a ‘hmm’ noise so he would know I was listening. The air smelled of fresh dirt, almost like a spring rain, and it was again blessedly cool.

  Frankie held my hand as we made our way toward a dim light in the distance, and even when we reached where we could see better, he kept holding it. I tried to think of something interesting to say, but my brain still wasn’t working quite right. In fact, my head was kind of spinning. It was the strangest sensation, like if I was to hold my body still for a moment, my head would spin like crazy. But when I stayed in motion, the spinning wasn’t quite as bad. Plus, just being alone in the tunnel with Frankie was nice, even if we weren’t talking much.

  Every now and again as we’d turn another corner, sounds of a party would drift to us, muffled, but unmistakably people having a grand ol’ time. I marveled at the fact that it seemed like hundreds of people knew about these secret places, and how many people were not content to sit at home and live ‘proper’ lives. At least I wasn’t the only one. I wondered how many others had to sneak out after their parents had gone to sleep like I did.

  Maybe I was alone. Well, other than Annie of course, although if her mother caught her sneaking out she’d probably take her shopping for some new dancing shoes, whereas if I was caught, I’d be under lock and key until the day I died. Or moved out, I supposed. Longer if my parents thought they could get away with it.

  “We’re getting close,” Frankie said.

  “Okay.” I was definitely excited, but a little disappointed too. It was kind of nice having Frankie all to myself.

  “Or we could just stay here a little longer,” he said, a hopeful note creeping into his voice, or maybe he had just picked up on the disappointment in my voice.

  Either way I was more than happy to stay down in the tunnel and rest for a while. It had been a long night already, though I wasn’t really tired. Who could be with all the electricity piercing the air? There was something about the tunnels, the secrecy, the danger, the… privacy.

  I thought I felt something before, but now that Frankie was standing in front of me, looking at me, it was like the whole place had come alive with energy.

  My breath deepened as I sucked in more air, trying to calm the giddy, dizzy feeling in my head. My stomach tightened in anticipation, almost as if I was afraid. And I was I guess, but only a little, the excitement was by far overriding it.

  Frankie gave me a sort of goofy grin and the dim light only softened his gorgeous face, his blue eyes catching the reflection of the crude lighting behind my head. Instinctively, I took a step back, straight into the wall of the narrow passageway. It wasn’t that I’d wanted to get away from him or anything, quite the opposite in fact, but my instinct had turned out to be right since the wall proved to be a perfect stabilizer for my poor, spinning head.

  I leaned into the coolness of the stone, letting my head fall back slightly for support. I closed my eyes, drinking in the wonderful chill, the muffled party noises from somewhere down the tunnel, and Frankie’s light cologne. Just as a smile was creeping across my face something brushed across my exposed throat. Something warm and soft. Something perfect.

  Frankie.

  His lips wandered across my skin so lightly I could barely feel it. It was completely at odds with the other feelings surging through my body, which were some of the most intense I had ever experienced in my life. The best part was that my head had stopped spinning completely. I was just there, in the tunnel, my thoughts nowhere other than on my neck and inhaling that sweet musk.

  I must have made a noise because Frankie suddenly brought his head closer to mine. At first he looked worried, but then once I smiled a little he grinned too and leaned, ever so slowly—excruciatingly slowly—toward me.

  In that moment, all the electricity that had been buzzing around seemed to zap together and as our lips met, a charge surged through me. The hair on my arms stood up, and not because of the coolness in the tunnel either.

  I didn’t have any frame of reference as far as kissing went, but I had to believe that this was one of the most perfect, amazing, chemistry filled kisses of all time.

  There was nothing on Earth that could have prepared me for the urgent and pulsing physical reaction of my body. I’d always—so wrongly—thought that kissing was purely a brain activity. But oh no. Things were going on that I had no idea how to control, nor did I really want to all that badly.

  Frankie pressed gently into me, his fresh scent mingling with the dampness of the tunnel, which made it even more intoxicating. With all the privacy, it was easy to imagine that the whole world had completely disappeared and Frankie and I were the only survivors. The nearby party seemed to completely fade away.

  Frankie put his arm around my waist and pulled me in closer, gently pressing himself against me, causing the strange pulsing to magically, and satisfactorily subside, though only for a second. I couldn’t help but push slightly toward him myself and even though I was doing something very, very against every rule I was ever taught, there was absolutely no way I would have been able to stop myself.

  Suddenly, the noise of the party burst into my ears, no longer drowned out by the security of a heavy door. Tragically, someone had entered the tunnels and we were no longer alone.

  “Well, well,” a man in a brown suit and matching fedora approached. “Who’s there?” He squinted in the darkness.

  Frankie cleared his throat.

  “Ah Frankie, ol’ boy, what’s the holdup?” he said, knowing full well what the holdup really was.

  His sly grin widened as he took a good look at me. Though I’d gotten used to the some of the looks I’d been getting lately, I couldn’t help but feel a little funny about the way his gaze went all the way up and all the way down me, coming back to finally settle on my face to shoot me a wink.

  Frankie leaned in a little closer, blocking me a little from the man’s open and unwanted stare. “Oh, hey Lenny,” he said. “How’s the party?”

  “Oh good, good. Just heading home though. When I stay out too late, the missus sometimes won’t wait up, if you know what I mean.” He raised his eyebrows twice conspiratorially.

  Ew, this man is married! Who would marry such a creep?

  Frankie let out a huffing sound that acknowledged he understood, but didn’t really humor the guy. I could tell right away that this Lenny wasn’t very high up on Frankie’s list of people he liked, or respected for that matter. I swear it made me like him even more, if that was possible. We both watched Lenny wander off, stumbling slightly as he made his way down the tunnel.

  “Sorry about him,” Frankie said, not giving any further explanation.

  I could only assume that Lenny was the Boss’s nephew or something because there was no way anyone would have brought him into the gang if they didn’t absolutely have to, I was sure of it.

  I turned my gaze back to Frankie, oh so ready to get back to where we were
before Lenny had so rudely interrupted us, but unfortunately, Frankie had other plans.

  “Well, I guess we’d better get in there. The Boss likes all his boys to make an appearance at these things.”

  “Oh,” I nodded. “Okay.” What I really wanted to say was “No way! Come here big fella!” But of course I would never have been able to say anything like that in a million years.

  Frankie took my hand and I was pleasantly surprised to notice that electricity still pulsed between us, my hand tingling ever so slightly where our skin had touched. He led me through the heavy door where Lenny had come from and we walked up a set of stairs. Frankie knocked on a second door, this time not worrying about how loud it was. I guess there wasn’t any danger of the police overhearing at this place. And when the door opened, I understood why.

  It wasn’t just another old speakeasy. This was a residence. Someone’s house actually had a secret entrance into the tunnels! When I was a little girl I’d read stories about houses with secret passageways and forever wished I could live in a place like that. I even scoured my own house, checking behind paintings and under all the rugs just to be sure mine didn’t have an exciting hidden door or secret of some sort, but no such luck.

  I’d never seen a curved room the way this one was, the straight lines of the largest rug I had ever seen trying their best to contradict. The walls were a deep, creamy red, set off by shocks of gloss-black that covered the panels of trim as well as the several doors around the room. Gold shone everywhere reaching almost to the ceiling on the heavily carved arches that framed it all.

  I noticed almost immediately that there were no windows here, no way of looking out into the world and I found it sad that, while this life must be grand, it came at a cost. A cost of even the most simplest of comforts, like the sun.

  The place was practically claustrophobic with artwork, each wall housing at least one or two pieces. Large paintings, mostly landscape, with trees in every color imaginable hung above alcoves where soft light showcased busts of famous gentlemen, as well as several lewd sculptures of ladies standing in what were supposed to be artful poses.

  Heavy furniture and bookcases, some trimmed with gold, took up every available crevice, each lounger and chair accompanied by its own fringe-trimmed lamp alongside.

  I’d never seen such extravagance in my life, and if it weren’t for having been in The Roxy last night, I might not have thought it possible.

  I realized then that the underground liquor business must be rather lucrative and wondered how much of the proceeds went to someone like Frankie. His clothes were certainly some of the nicest in the clubs. Perhaps his place looked something like this one too.

  “Frankie!” people started yelling from every direction as we made our way inside.

  He certainly was well known. Every man in the room came over to shake his hand. Some of the older men patted him on the shoulder, as a father would do to a son. Frankie seemed to be enjoying himself and this place. This world of secrecy and intrigue was obviously where he felt comfortable. This was home for him.

  As in the clubs, the ladies in the room eyed Frankie up. I was amazed at how forward everyone was in this underground community. They didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were ogling him, even the ones who were sitting on other gentlemen’s laps, which was a little shocking in itself.

  Once all the pleasantries were finally over—it seemed to take forever for the introductions—Frankie pulled me toward the other side of the room where things were slightly quieter. I wasn’t too pleased when Frankie grabbed two glasses of a thick, bronze liquid, no doubt more liquor, from a table filled with of them and handed one to me.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to try this type of liquor—okay, maybe it was, since it looked positively wretched—but I also knew that I absolutely should not put any more alcohol into my system. The way my head had been off kilter back in the tunnel was enough for me to know that, but I took the glass to be polite, deciding I would just hold it. Maybe take a sip just to tell Annie I’d tried it, even though she probably wouldn’t believe me. When I raised the glass close to my lips though, the smell got to me first and I decided that maybe Annie was right. Maybe I was too chicken for certain things.

  Of course, it could have been the circumstances. I was already feeling rather jumbled down in my stomach and not just because of the little interlude out in the tunnel.

  I held the glass far from my face as I glanced around.

  “So, what do you think?” Frankie asked, gesturing to the room.

  I wasn’t sure if he meant the house, or the people in it, or maybe his whole lifestyle all together. So I just smiled and said, “it’s the cat’s meow.” Of course it came out sounding like I was about six years old seeing a fancy place for the first time in my life. But Frankie just smiled.

  “Well, we’d better go say hi to the Boss.”

  My stomach did a little flip. I wasn’t sure if I was up for that yet. Back in the alley it all happened so fast and I didn’t have a chance to get my head around who I was meeting. But now seemed different, as if I was being set up for scrutiny. What if I didn’t meet his approval? What would he do to Frankie? Especially if he was who everyone said he was. I’d read so many things about him in the papers that I didn’t know what to believe. Surely, he couldn’t have done all the things they said he did, and if was all true, what was he still doing on this side of metal bars? But at the same time, weren’t we standing at that very moment in some kind of secret lair?

  Frankie must have sensed my hesitation. “Don’t worry,” he said, bending down to whisper in my ear. “He’s not as scary as you might think.” He finished with a wink.

  I took a deep breath as Frankie pushed me gently toward the far end of the room where the short man from the alley sat in a fine striped suit, smoking on a fat cigar and laughing raucously along with the small crowd gathered around him. I would have thought that the atmosphere might be strained, people walking on eggshells around such a powerful man, but everyone looked completely comfortable and relaxed.

  As we approached, the Boss looked up.

  He stood ceremoniously as he spoke. “Frankie! Glad you could make it.”

  A strange choice of words, I thought, since it seemed sort of mandatory the way Frankie was talking.

  “Hey Boss,” Frankie said, leaning in for a one-s—s-shouldered hug. The Boss patted Frankie’s back more aggresively than I’d ever seen in a hug before and laughed from deep within.

  Finally Frankie broke away from the embrace and stepped back in line with me. “I’d like you to meet Sadie sir,” he said.

  “Ah! The girl from the alley,” the Boss said, smiling widely and leaning in close. The faint scent of cigar mingled with a very strong drink on his breath, but there was something about him that put me at ease, the tension and fear just faded away.

  I nodded almost imperceptibly and tried to smile.

  His expression seemed to change slightly then, almost like he was confused or something. He cleared his throat. “She’s a looker,” he said, turning to Frankie, and I was free from his attention again. But I did notice a strange look pass between Frankie and the Boss and then he pulled Frankie a few steps away for a bit of privacy, whispering into his ear.

  The tension came back tenfold. I knew he wasn’t going to like me. He could probably tell I was from a straight-laced, church-going family. He probably thought I was just there as a dare, a silly girl, in over her head, which I suppose I was, but I wasn’t scared the way he probably thought I was. This was the life for me, I knew with all my being.

  But then I noticed the rest of the people in the room. It felt suspiciously like the ballroom had just a few short hours ago. I felt like I was standing in the middle of a darkened stage with a spotlight shining directly on my head. I tried to smile and keep my blush at bay, but it was no use. They were looking at me as if I had the plague.

  That’s when it hit me. Not only would Frankie and
I not have a public relationship but we would not have an underground, secret relationship either. These people hated me just as much as my parents’ people hated Frankie.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  Frankie stepped back toward me, an expression on his face that could only be described as quizzical. We stood there as the Boss sat down again and turned his attention back to his other guests.

  Unfortunately, as Frankie led me away—gazes following us the whole way—his arm was not around me, only his hand clutching the back of my arm.

  “Sadie…” he said. “I forgot to ask you before. What was your last name?”

  My heart practically stopped. “Um…” was all I could spit out before my voice caught.

  He sighed and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “Please tell me that it’s not McKay.”

  “Um…”

  “Sadie!”

  I sighed. “Yes, it’s McKay,” I said as quietly as I could, terrified that the others might overhear.

 
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