Composing himself, Nixon’s jaw went tight as he approached him. Flynn didn’t look up once, didn’t seem the slightest bit phased when Nixon slid into the booth across from him. Instead, Flynn smirked up at Becky, in that skilled way. “I think I’ll have the lobster, Beth.”
She went tomato red. “Got it.” Then she swung her gaze to Nixon and straightened. “Anything for you, sir?”
“Ten minutes of peace,” Nixon snapped, and she fled not a moment later.
“Is it fun doing that?” Flynn asked, levelling Nixon with a hard look. “You like making people flee from you?”
“Yeah, I do,” Nixon replied with ease. “It’s really fucking fun. You should try it.”
“It doesn’t win loyalty.”
“Fuck winning shit,” he retorted. “You can buy loyalty these days, Flynn boy. People care more about their bank accounts.”
“Then all I gotta do is wave a little more money in their faces and turn them against you.”
“I don’t think your pockets are deep enough.”
Now, this wasn’t necessarily true. Nixon didn’t know how deep Flynn’s pockets were. His assumption was only said to spur a reaction out of Flynn, but Flynn kept his face clean.
He knew this game.
Nixon was right.
So. Fucking. Refined.
“I assume you’re here to threaten me,” Flynn then said, sitting back comfortably as he stared back at Nixon.
“Threaten would imply there’s some looming danger if you don’t comply,” Nixon returned, shaking his head. “But you’re not opposed to danger, are you, Flynn?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t ready for it.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“So, what do you want then?”
“I want to talk.”
Flynn narrowed his gaze at Nixon, trying to figure him out. “I think you’re here to discuss Vixen.”
Nixon smirked, feigning surprise. “Now why on earth would I do that?”
“Because you’re angry about what I did today. I took her by her arm and we left that room. I took her outside and watched the sun kiss her skin, and she was…so pleased about it.”
“Was she?” Nixon pressed, playing along.
“Yeah,” Flynn responded, widening his eyes for effect. “She’s like a flower you’re letting wilt. I gave her some sun and she shined.”
Flynn, too, was seeking a reaction, but he wasn’t going to get one. “Isn’t she something else, Flynn?”
“She is.” He didn’t say it in a heated way. It was stated simply, but Nixon caught the way Flynn’s eyes wandered in thought. Then he cleared his throat and drummed the table with his fingers, redirecting his focus on Nixon. “Are we leaving for the job tomorrow, or have things changed?”
“My understanding is you’re one hell of a driver.”
“I am.”
“Hobbs thinks we’re going to be in rocky waters, and that we’ll need you.”
“You will,” Flynn said confidently.
“Then you don’t need to ask whether you’re still in.”
“I’m asking you, Nixon. I don’t care what Hobbs has to say. I want to hear it from you.”
“Hear what from me?”
“That you’ll need me on this job.”
“I can’t do that, Flynn, because I don’t think we need you at all. I think we’ve done just fine before you showed up.”
“You think you’ll get away without casualties?”
Nixon shrugged. “We know what we’re doing when we walk into these jobs. If we die, we die. It’s what we signed up for.”
“You’re used to it getting messy.” It wasn’t said in question. Flynn was just addressing it, seeking a response from Nixon.
“You have to walk in prepared for the worst,” Nixon explained, noticing the way Flynn’s attention to the topic peaked. “You gotta be prepared to spill blood.”
“I hear you’re good at it.”
“I am.”
Flynn’s finger-drumming on the table quickened. “Ever any regrets?”
“None.”
“You stand by every kill?”
“Every one of them.”
Flynn’s jaw tensed. “And what happens when you leave the island? Does Vixen just stay cooped up in here, waiting for you?”
Nixon chuckled, raising his brows. “You’re taking an awful lot of interest in that girl.”
“Curious what you do to the things you own.”
“I own them, the end.”
“The end for them, you mean.”
“Until white knights like you come along and try to play the hero. You’re wasting your effort, Flynn. You’re so busy trying to prove a point, you’ve lost sight of the big picture.”
“What’s the big picture?”
“You got to feed her from the palm of your hand,” Nixon said, a devilish smirk forming. “I got to feed her my cock and watched her cry my name.” When Flynn’s eyes dropped and anger sliced through his features, Nixon continued. “At the end of the day, the truth can’t be ignored. Vixen chooses to fuck me. She chooses to take my cock into her mouth, to swallow my seed like she’s hungry for it. I don’t force her to fuck me. She does it, willingly, every single time. And you…you’re just a fleeting wonder. You’ll make no mark on her, not the one she needs, anyway. And, to be fucking honest, you won’t come out on top, not when you’re standing next to the likes of me. So, do yourself a favour and put the topic of Vixen to rest.”
“She’s beautiful, Nixon,” Flynn simply responded, lips turning down. “You shouldn’t contain a beautiful thing.”
“How about you get yourself a girl and worry about her instead?” Nixon retorted.
“I don’t want a girl,” Flynn replied softly. “She wouldn’t like me. I’m no good for anyone.”
Flynn let his guard down. His face dropped and a fleeting look of sadness crossed him. It took Nixon by surprise.
Perhaps he wasn’t so refined after all.
Perhaps he was just a fucking kid in a man’s body. Look at what he wore, for fuck’s sake. He dressed like a street kid would. He talked with confidence, but maybe that confidence was learned from having to survive the harsh streets he’d grown up in.
Nixon frowned now. “I understand you have good intentions, Flynn. You’re a bit too soft for this sort of life.”
Nixon had been soft at this sort of life too once upon a time.
“This life is all I know,” Flynn responded, nose flaring. “I can’t spend my whole life doing petty crime, man. I’d rather die out here doing a job than die getting caught stealing car parts in the parking lot of a 7/11.”
Nixon sighed slowly, feeling an emotion akin to sympathy for the guy.
The lost look in Flynn’s eyes? He saw it in his own long ago.
The fight to stick up for what was right the way Flynn had in regard to Vixen? Nixon might have done that, too.
“Alright, Flynn,” Nixon finally said. “Let’s end this soap dish talk before the violins start playing. We’re leaving tomorrow, and we have a job to do. That means we leave our problems at the door. Can we do that?”