I eyed the waitress as she used the counter to pop open my bottle, she handed it to me with a smile that seemed innocent enough. At least innocent enough for me to accept it and take a sip.

The beer was cold and sharp as it glided down my sore throat. I'll never understand why, but my throat always feel soar after killing someone. It's like the feeling after you've been crying, only I've never cried after committing the crime.

I noticed the waitress give Quinton a flirty smile before sliding his bourbon over. He returned the gesture with a smile of his own, nodding at her before taking a swig. She turned around and walked over to the next waiting customer.

Giving her a once over, I decided that she was cute enough. Her hair was dark black with purple died ends. She had big, brown eyes and her skin was just a shade too dark to be considered white. I concluded that she was of Muslim heritage, that thought was further strengthened when she started spewing out Arabian to a customer down the bar. I gave Quinton a knowing smile.

"See anything you like, Q?"

"What if I do?"

"Go talk to her."

"What? And leave you," he feigned horror at the suggestion," Never. Besides, it's been a while since I've- you know."

"I know."

I stared down into the bottle, it resembled a black whole. Swirling the liquid around in it, I thought about Fiona. Fiona had been Quinton's wife, young, sweet, generous. Not meant for the life that she ended up in. She died in a shoot out that she wasn't supposed to be at, her and Quinton's child, Rose, is now his only reminder of the innocence that he brought into our very not-innocent world.

Straightening in my seat, I put on a smile and looked at him.

"It's been almost two years, you deserve a chance to try again," I put my hand on his shoulder," At least give it a shot."

He paused for a long moment, thinking it over before nodding.

"I'll try."

"Go get 'em, Q," I said, patting him on the shoulder as he stood up.

Quinton nodded before turning and walking over to the Latina woman. She smiled as he approached. I turned my head to give them more privacy, taking another sip of my beer.

The other bar tender behind the counter turned up the news and I started to watch the weather report for the next week. 40's throughout through out the week with a chance of rain on Thursday, after that there was a story on a fire at the high school.

Rico's POV

My motorcycle buzzed and hummed beneath me as I stopped in front of a bar. I've never been to this city so I'm just going off of some citizens opinion to find one worth trying out.

The bright sign on the front of the outdated building was blinking wearily, looking like it could die out at any moment. Letting out a sigh, I turned off the engine and got off the bike.

Once I opened the door I was hit with the brutish sounds of men making a toast and the Irish folk music playing through the speakers, meant to match some sort of theme they must have lost long ago. Two lone bar tenders stood behind the bar, a girl and a boy.

I walked up to the bar and took the stool in front of the man as the one in front of the girl was already taken by some big guy failing to flirt with her. The man was a ginger through and through, with light orange hair and pale skin covered in brown-ish freckles, eyes  just barely darker than the freckles themselves but still warm and playful all the same. He looked up at me the moment I sat down.

"You're new here," he said while nodding at me.

"A bit," I chuckled. He put out his hand for me to shake.

"Kace Finn."

"Rico Hernandez," I replied while taking his hand, giving him a small smile at the same time. Most people you meet aren't this pleasant, of course he could be faking it.

"What can I get you, Ricky?"

"Haha," I fake laughed, not liking the sound of that. At. All," Don't call me that. I'll take a tequila."

"Tequila it is," he reached below the counter and pulled out a red-tinted bottle before grabbing a glass from behind him," So, how do you like Duke?"

"It's alright," I shrugged, taking the glass from him and downing a bit.

A customer down the aisle calls to him and he goes over to help him out. I finish my drink and reach into my jacket pocket to toss a ten on the counter. Kace returned to pick up the glass so I let my eyes wander, eventually falling on a curly headed brunette watching the news intently with a half-full beer in front of her.

"Who's that," I asked Kace over my shoulder.

"Ah," he glanced over to see who I was talking about," Oh, I don't know. She's not really a regular here. Why?"

"No reason."

He just shrugged and went back to cleaning the glass. I stood up and went over, sitting in the seat right next to her and feigning interest in the news.

"An arson at a high school," I say under my breath," This is what you watch for fun."

"This is what I watch for information," she replied with out turning.

"Isn't that what phones are for?"

"Phone's won't tell me all the details on time, genius."

"On time for what?"

"Fuck off."

"Those aren't very nice words, Princesita."

"But they were so welly used. It would be smart to take the advice so generously given to you."

"Why don't you turn around and say that? Afraid you'll fall in love with me?"

She took a sip of her beer before turning to face me.

She was pale, her skin was almost white with just a bit of pink on the crests of her lightly freckled cheeks. Her eyes were blue-green and lit sparkling with annoyance that was obvious even under this cheap lighting. Her entire body was that of a porcelain doll, skinny but not too skinny, just enough in the middle with more than enough above and below and long legs to top it off, even though they were clad in a beat up pair of jeans and an old black tee shirt. She tilted one end of her pink lips in a smirk.

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"Prove it," I looked her up and down once more, feeling myself grow hungrier by the second," Princesita."

She took up my challenge and moved herself from her chair and over to mine, her legs on either side of me. I took up her waist in my hands and she put her arms around my neck before kissing me, slowly and deeply. She took her time to slide her tongue past my lips, both of ours fighting for dominance. In the end I let her win simply because I wanted to see what she would do with it, the choice was a poor one though.

Mary's POV

The very moment that he gave me dominance I pulled back from his mouth and repositioned my lips to his ear, nibbling on it for a split second before whispering in slightly seductive tone.

"I don't have to prove anything to anyone."

When I tried to pull away I felt his arms encase me tighter, the leather of his jacket rubbing against my skin a little.

"Wanna take this home, Princesita?"

My first instinct was to look at Quinton but thought better of it. I stood up and listened with a smirk as he let out a groan of disappointment. Taking his hand in my own, I pulled him up and out the door.