Snooping


Authors
Hag
Published
5 years, 9 months ago
Stats
567 1

Shea gets too curious about a certain mobster and runs into another one in the process.

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Shea hurried into the wide, plain building, the insides dark and dimly lit in all sorts of goofy neon lights. Thumping and cracking noises were nonstop, the building radio quiet in comparison to all the patrons conversing.

He was at a loss with it a little too dark... He couldn't help himself, he subconsciously adjusted his round frames as if it would help him see better. It certainly didn't help, but taking a leisurely stroll along the perimeter, rows of heads in front of the lanes, did prove useful.
That jet-black hair, wild, paired with a vibrant red jacket suddenly stuck out like a sore thumb. Taka was sitting at the scoring table with a lanky guy. They seemed to be having an entertaining conversation, Taka leaned forward at the scorecard, numbers rubbed out and re-written, mouth moving, while the lanky guy was gesticulating wildly, a smile threatening to break out on his face. It made Shea smile, himself-- it was funny to think a big mob guy was passionate about bowling, of all things.

Gingerly approaching, he tapped his recorder in his jacket pocket on before stopping behind the fuzzy-headed lanky dude.

"Hello..."

Taka turned around slowly, while his friend jumped and practically broke his neck to look at Shea.

"Oh, it's you," Taka responded casually. "Never a day off, huh? Gotta stalk me on a nice day like this?"

"Stalker?" The white guy's accent was almost unbearable, a complete Jersey boy.

"Ah," Shea started with a tone of amusement. He didn't need anyone getting the wrong ideas about him, especially not if this guy was a confidant to Taka. "No, I was just in the neighborhood. I can't believe you're in here, actually! Introduce me to your friend, would you, Taka?"

"This piece of trash?" Taka waved the white guy off, still concentrating on the scorecard. "I knew you fuckin' wrote the '3' into an '8'."

"Nah, he's not my friend," the guy admitted to Shea, giving him his entire attention, turned to him now. Damn were his lips sealed though. It only made Shea more intrigued.

"Oh... I'm sorry for assuming! You must be...?"

The guy stood up. He was even less intimidating standing at full height. His smile seemed forced. 

"Just leaving," he said. And he did just that without another word. Taka also said nothing at the departure.

Shea took the guy's seat, leaning near Taka, the table jutting into their way. His smile was coy, though Taka seemed unfazed about his presence. "Who was that?"

"Cut the shit, Stalker. What do you want?"

"I already said, I was in the neighborhood... It's good to see you! I was just thinking that--"

The tap tap tap tap of shoes approaching the table was unmistakable. Shea turned to see who was coming now, a little too late.
It was the lanky guy again, expression pleased, but his actions anything but. He poured a cup full of ice all over Taka, his voice amused and even.

"That's for bringing your other sluts around me, you prick."

And before Taka could even stand up and shout back, the guy turned on his heel and booked it out!

Shea gasped and leaned back, titillated by the spectacle. He didn't even think to help Taka, more amused than worried at the now slightly damp man, hunched over in his seat with a few ice cubes.