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The Chicago Devil
Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

“Why were those men after you?” Deacon pressed in an accusatory tone.

“Me? They weren’t after me! They were saying your name! They were after you!”

“Me? Why would they…?” Deacon stopped arguing and replayed the stressful encounter in his brain. She was right, they had spoken his name. Maybe she was right.

The elevator doors opened, and they both stepped out. Deacon led Zoe through the lobby at a pace that forced her to almost skip to keep up. They stepped over the bodies of two security guards and the receptionist and Deacon pulled her arm harder to keep her from mentally breaking down at the terrible images. They quickly made their way out the front doors back onto the street and were soon in the parking garage at the end of the street. Once they located the cab, they both climbed in and were soon off, driving through the crowded city street traffic.

“C’mon! C’mon!” Deacon yelled at a car in front of him that slowed down for a yellow light and stopped before it turned red. “Aw, what the f-“

“Calm down boy.” Zoe commanded in her usual regal tone. She was shaken by the dead bodies, this had quickly turned into a serious situation, but was working hard to clamp that fear down. “Now tell me what you plan to do about these mafia and gang people you were telling me about.”

“Well, I plan on going in there and beatin’ wholesale ass until someone tells me what I wanna know.” Deacon shrugged.

“Don’t you think if you go in there alone again, they might kill you?”

Deacon just shrugged again and made a few curses towards the obviously dangerous people he was planning on going into conflict with again. To Zoe, and probably to most other people on the planet, this young man’s plan seemed insanity. Was he truly that arrogant, or stupid to realize that going up against a superior force, not only did they outnumber him, but they were also probably each one larger than him as well, was crazy and stupid? Was he that full of himself, or just that ornery?

“What about these people that just tried to kill us? Do you think they are working with those men?”

“I dunno.” Deacon replied. “Honestly it didn’t seem like it. It seemed like the men I fought against were all gang members working for the mob. Those guys in the hotel seemed different. Maybe they have something to do with the kidnappers?”

“Maybe. But that would mean they knew we were looking for them and sent people after us?”

“Yeah, maybe something like that.” In truth Deacon didn’t really believe that. He didn’t know what he believed, but deep in his heart he wondered if it had something to do with that fateful night with the professor and the wild animal. If that were true, then it would appear as though he had made several different groups of enemies lately. Not a reassuring thought.

They made their way back out onto Lakeshore Drive and headed south. He made a pit stop at the taxi station and exchanged the taxi for his car. Zoe had to wait while he was chewed out again for returning the cab late, and he was forced to pay a fine, which of course, she reimbursed him for later. They were soon back out on the streets, driving through the squalid streets of the Back of the Yards with the cold wind whipping inside the car from the broken back window.

“Stay here.” Deacon demanded when they arrived at his small apartment complex.

Deacon disappeared from the Cadillac for a time and when he reappeared, had a foul look on his face. He had left the car running in his absence, and now pulled the column shifter down to leave. And then his heart sank as he saw a young woman skipping over in a black leather jacket and tight leather pants.

“Crap.” Deacon cursed. “Not good.”

“You know her?” Zoe asked suspiciously.

Gina waved as she approached, but a dark cloud overtook her general demeanor as she came close enough to see the gorgeous blonde in the passenger seat.

“Sorry Gina, I don’t have time to talk right now!” He yelled through the closed windows and began to pull out of the parking space.

“What the fuck Deacon? Who is that hussy?” Gina began running over to the passenger window. “You’re just gonna do me like that? Pump and dump me, you son of a bitch?”

“Sorry Gina!” He pressed down the gas pedal to accelerate.

“Fuck you, asshole!” She screamed as the car sped away. She took off one of her high heels and threw it after the speeding car.

“Who was that?” Zoe crossed her arms over her chest and gave Deacon a painfully knowing look. “A girlfriend?”

“No! It’s not like that, it’s not what you think.” Deacon shrugged helplessly. “Well, I guess maybe it is. Look, she was a mistake…”

“Right.” Zoe raised a shaped eyebrow and replied coldly.

“Really, we weren’t together I just…well I mean she seduced me!”

“Uh huh…”

Deacon sighed heavily and gave up. No matter what he said or tried to explain that this point, he would end up digging himself deeper.

“You really are an asshole. Where are we going now, Casanova?” Zoe asked.

“There are people here too. They were waiting. More people like at your place.”

“What do you mean? In your place?”

“Yeah, they were waiting in there. They didn’t see me though.”

“So where are we gonna go? I have dangerous people looking for me and now you have dangerous people after you!”

Deacon grumbled and didn’t really answer.

“What a pair we make…” Zoe sighed and let the sentence trail off as she watched out the window.

He drove down the hard streets with a purpose and the young girl had no choice but to trust him. He had proven himself to be violent and dangerous, not at all like the boys back home in Beverly Hills, but at the same time, he had several opportunities recently to rob or rape her if that had been his intent. She studied his rough, masculine face as he drove.

Zoe remembered an encounter she’d had with a few of her friends back in California when she was younger. They had gone to an unfamiliar South Central neighborhood to watch a movie and she remembered being uncomfortable in the area immediately but had ignored her instincts.

On their way back to their car, two rough looking gang members had surprised them and demanded they hand over their money. She remembered how the three boys she was with complied fearfully in an instant and had pleaded with her also to turn over the pocket change she had at the time. She remembered being angry and not wanting to give the muggers her belongings, but the boys she would have expected to save and protect her had failed completely. She was not only angry at the muggers, but the useless little boys who just earlier had been fawning over her also.

The two robbers never showed a weapon, just the threat of violence had been enough for those boys she’d been with. They never fought back or attempted to struggle, even though they had outnumbered their robbers. As she watched the hard face of the young Southsider, which seemed to have a perpetual resting scowl upon it, she wondered what type of rough upbringing he had endured on these streets, and more importantly, she wondered how he would have reacted in that situation. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine him rolling over and complying as easily as the good-looking Beverly Hills jocks she’d been with at the time had.

Zoe looked out and felt unsafe in this neighborhood and wondered how he felt. She supposed someone would get used to it if it were all that person ever knew. Even though she was from Beverly Hills and had little contact with rougher neighborhoods or ghettos in her life, California was no stranger to street gangs, and they drove past several groups of people that fit the description. They may have worn different colors than the Crips and the Bloods of her state, they were similar enough to recognize.

Deacon had a foul look etched on his stony face, but it lightened suddenly as they turned down another street and he saw someone in the distance. Deacon quickly pulled over next to what appeared to be the dirtiest hobo that Zoe had ever seen, but for some reason, Deacon seemed happy to see him.

“Captain!” Deacon rolled down the window as he pulled alongside the hobo.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The hobo coughed up a gross loogey and then smiled back.

“Deacon! What choo doin’ out here huh? You out looking for the horse called war? It went down to the station and never came back huh?”

Deacon and the hobo slapped hands while Zoe pressed herself against the passenger window and curled her lip. Even from across the car the smell coming from the homeless man was atrocious.

“Zoe! Reach in there and open the glovebox will ya?”

Zoe frowned and sighed her disgust but did exactly that. When she did, half a dozen packs of cigarettes and a small bottle of Wild Turkey fell out. Deacon grabbed this and handed it over to the hobo.

“Merry Christmas Captain.”

The hobo accepted the gift with greedy hands and gave the young man a pointed smile, as though some deep part of his soul had been touched by the unwarranted generosity.

“You take good care of that now.” Deacon began to pull off but the old hobo reached out to stop him.

“Wait! Wait!” He reached into his filthy army surplus coat and put something into Deacon’s hand. “I gots this from a medicine man over by Aberdeen. Wear it! He said it has good medicine!”

“Thanks Captain!” Deacon nodded, tipped his fingers to his temples and then rolled away. He looked at the offering, it was a strange necklace that seemed to be woven out of tree limbs or something. He put it on, what did he have to lose?

“Ew gross! You’re going to put on some ratty old necklace that a hobo gives you?” Zoe spat. “You have no idea where that’s been!”

“Sure I do!” Deacon replied proudly. “It’s been in dumpsters and alleys and drug through the streets. But if ol’ Captain Buttery-Cheeks tells me it’s got good medicine, then I believe him.”

Zoe shook her head once more in disgust.

“When a man that has nothing gives you one of the few things he does own? That truly is good medicine.”

Zoe looked over at him, her face still filled with ice, but inside she could admit maybe she did see the wisdom and profundity in that. For him at least, certainly not for her!

Deacon drove a little further before he pulled alongside the curb and parked in front of a rundown little house in a rundown little neighborhood, not too far away from where his apartment was located. The house itself was a tall narrow house made from old red bricks some of which were bleaching white, crammed in between houses on either side of it. There was little in the way of yards in the neighborhood, the sidewalk was connected directly to the four steps that led up to the porch. There was a narrow strip of grass in between the sidewalk and the curb, and a tiny strip in between the houses, but the space between the houses was not enough that two full grown men could stand side by side. A rusty aluminum fence passed in front of the house and a gate in front of the porch stairs stood open.

It was a two-story German shotgun house, longer than it was wide, with a bay styled window on both floors to the left of the front porch. A basement window had a flag hanging up, blocking the view from the street. It looked to be an older house, but the two on either side of it were both newer looking, though a house three spots down was obviously abandoned. Across the street an empty lot stood which at one time obviously held a house but now there was only a plywood board standing in place of where the wrought iron fence had fallen.

Deacon got out of the car and began making his way to the front porch. He paused when he realized that Zoe seemed hesitant to get out. He made a gesture at her, and she shook her head.

“C’mon get out, what are you doing?”

“Are you serious? This looks like a…” Zoe then leaned her head out the passenger window and whispered “…crack house.”

“A what?” Deacon laughed heartily. “Naw man, it’s cool. It’s not a crack house, we’re safe here.” He reached out and opened the door up. “Come on your highness.”

Zoe got out but gave him a strange look. She stayed so close to him as he walked up to the porch that if he had stopped, she would have run into him. He rapped on the door and Zoe was expecting any manner of drug kingpin or gang member to answer, but surprisingly, a little old lady in a blue and white patterned muumuu dress opened the door.

“Deacon!” She quickly pushed open the screen door with a genuine smile spread across her kind, wrinkly old face. “Well, I haven’t seen you for ages! How’ve you been?”

“Good, good Mama Addams.” He paused while crossing the threshold into the building. The old lady frowned when she saw the fresh cuts and bruises on the young man’s face.

“Have you been fighting again? How many times do I have to tell you boys to stop fighting out there in the streets? I don’t know what I’m going to do with you boys.”

“Nah, it’s nothin’ Mama, I promise.”

“Nothing? Look at your face dear, this is not nothing.”

“Well, nothing I can’t handle anyway. You know me.” Deacon flashed a roguish half smile, turned and made a gesture at the long lean young woman following him. “This is my friend Zoe.”

The old woman turned aside to let them in but doted immediately on this pretty young newcomer. She threw her arms around the young girl and hugged her warmly with no judgement. Zoe found the experience strange, hugging a stranger was not typically how people met each other where she was from, but the old woman was speaking again before she could properly process the situation.

“Oh, it’s so good to see little Deke with a good girl! And a pretty girl too! My, you are a pretty young thing, aren’t you? Not at all like that rotten Sarah girl. I’m so glad to see him with someone besides her, she was a real streetwalker, wasn’t she?”

“Sarah?” Zoe laughed and looked towards the young cab driver. “Who’s Sarah now?”

“Nobody.” Deacon grumbled. “Sarah’s in the past now Mama Addams, no reason to bring her up to Zoe.”

“Yeah, yeah. You guys go ahead, don’t mind an old lady like me. There’s pop in the fridge and Nate’s downstairs, you guys go ahead.”

“Thanks Mama, nice to see you.”

Deacon led her through a modest living room with modest furniture next. The furniture was old and dumpy, but the interior of the house, contrary to what Zoe would have imagined, had a cozy charm. There was dark oak trim with matching horizontal five panel doors, the one leading to the kitchen had a window on the upper half of the door. Towards the back of the house was an old wooden staircase, its weathered white paint faded and chipped leading upstairs. Next to the staircase was a door that led to the basement. It was here that Deacon led Zoe to and opened the door.

They came down the stairs and entered the basement. The basement was dim and grungy and only half-finished. A mixed smell of mildew and cigarette smoke clung heavily in the air. Zoe looked around and saw posters hanging up on all the walls haphazardly of skeletons, swords, skulls and scary demonic imagery. It was a complete contrast to the kindly old lady upstairs. She had never seen anything like it before and tugged on the back of Deacon’s shirt.

“Is whoever lives down here a devil worshipper?” She asked.

Deacon laughed. “These are bands. That crazy guy there with a sword and a shield is Black Sabbath Paranoid, then the hawk there is Judas Priest, all of these over here are Iron Maiden…and this guy here is Megadeth, Peace Sells.”

“They’re scary.”

“You’ve really never heard of any of these bands or albums?”

“No. I wouldn’t listen to stuff like that. It looks evil.” Zoe blinked.

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

Deacon laughed again and walked towards an area where some drywall had been put up to form a room in the far corner of the otherwise unfinished basement, next to the hot water heater and a washer and dryer. The sounds of Alice in Chains, Man in the Box was drifting through the room to their ears.

“Hey yo! Anyone home?” Deacon called out.

A moment later the door opened and an incredibly good looking, clean shaven guy with elfish features and long blonde hair peaked out.

“Whoa, Deke, who’s the babe?” Nate asked with a stoner-like chuckle.

“Zoe. Zoe this is Nate.”

Deacon walked into the room and Zoe followed hesitantly. On one side of the room was a large bed with no frame, and black and white zebra skin covers blanketing the surface. Two cheap green lounge chairs and a dirty sofa faced a television that was tuned in to MTV. Between the chairs was an end table that held a lamp and an ashtray. Deacon reached down and found a pack of cigarettes on the table, he helped himself to one and lit it up before sitting in one of the chairs.

“No way.” Nate watched Zoe as she came in the room and sat down on the couch daintily. “No way, Zoe? Zoe Waters?”

Zoe nodded sheepishly, though she was used to this reaction by now.

“You know her?” Deacon asked.

Nate looked at Deacon and then back to Zoe. Deacon just shrugged, but Nate recognized the girl and his eyes lit excitedly.

“Dude, you know freakin’ Zoe Waters? When did this happen?”

“Couple days ago.” Deacon answered after taking a pull from the cigarette, and exhaled slowly, letting the nicotine calm his frazzled nerves.

“Dude, I love you.” Nate said to the young girl. “I mean…I mean I’m a huge fan. Dude, do you even know who she is?” He asked Deacon, who just shrugged again. “This is Paul Waters’ daughter man. The guitarist for Blue Moon? The 70s band?”

Explosions of neuron activity went off in Deacon’s head and his eyes went wide as he looked at the girl sitting across from him.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.” Zoe said, not bothering to elaborate further.

“She’s a model and an actress and like, the hottest girl in the world maybe? At least as hot as Cindy Crawford.” Nate scrambled to reach behind one of the chairs and pulled out a magazine. He opened it to a picture of a girl in lingerie and held it up for Deacon. The cabbie looked at the picture for a moment of the smoking hot girl wearing provocative clothing and didn’t understand at first why his friend had…and suddenly he realized that the girl sitting in front of him was the same girl without the heavy makeup. It was like a bomb went off in the young man’s head.

“Holy shit man, that’s you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I kinda did. I toldja I was famous.” Zoe said, uncomfortable with the way the cab driver was now looking at her. She was much more at ease when she knew he did not recognize her. Up until this point, he had treated her like a real person, not as a celebrity. He had seen her for the real Zoe Waters, not as the perfect fantasy pinup girl that everyone else treated her as. In fact, he had probably been the first person she had spoken with in the last three years that had just treated her as a normal person. Would this all now change?

“This is totally awesome and all, but I have to ask, what the fuck is a totally hot fox like you doing in my basement?” Nate asked while finally easing himself into the other chair on the other side of the end table as Deacon. “It’s not every day we get famous models roaming the ‘Yards.”

Zoe looked once to Deacon for reassurance. Deacon nodded solemnly at her and after a deep breath, she began recounting her story to Nate. She laid it all on the line, her friend’s disappearance, the ransom letter she received, coming to Chicago, finding Deacon, the incident at the club and the attack in the hotel room. There was a long pause and silence as Nate mentally digested all these things, but finally he spoke with his usual casual smile that lit his entire face.

“So, you’re tellin’ me we’re gonna help a supermodel?” Nate asked. “Fuck yeah dude, I wanna be your hero, just like that song.”

“Do Do Do DOOO.” Both men recounted the beat from Bonnie Tyler’s song “Holding out for a Hero”.

Zoe rolled her eyes and tried to hide the smile on her face while both of the buddies high fived each other.

“Okay dummies. What should we do next?”

They exchanged a glance.

“We’re getting the crew back together.” Nate was the first to announce, in a triumphant manner. “We’re going back to the club.”

“Get everyone together.” Deacon said. “I’m gonna take a nap.”

“What about me?” Zoe frowned and crossed her arms. “You’re going to fall asleep and leave me in a strange place?”

“It’s not strange. This is Nate. This is Nate’s house.”

“Okay…?” Zoe sighed.

“Take the bed if you want or watch TV. I sleep like a rock.” Deacon took the last drag from his cigarette, crushed it out in the ashtray and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes