Can’t stop it, but I can make sure they know that you are with me.
By grabbing my ass all the time?
Edinburgh was in full Scottish swing tonight, with the black castle towering over the city with swathes of fog swirling about it. The cobblestones on Royal Mile were wet with rain and the buildings rose tall, silent and gothic from their foundations. The quiet streets spoke volumes and the tourists hardly suspected that the soft glow rising from dark staircases would lead on a merry hunt down into the depths of the The Witchery Club. If Axel wanted to go out and drink, then she wouldn’t stop him. It was a lesson learnt long ago that it had to be a choice that someone wanted to make. At least they could go out and have fun together, and she would be there to take care of him if the need arose.
Tucked away in the far corner, Rosie and Axel had consumed dinner, their last hurrah before flying home tomorrow. The Witchery had been one of Rosie’s favourite haunts when she had lived in Edinburgh. The back secret bar and the dimly lit tables that ran the length of the basement level, buried beneath the stones of the Castle Row. Soaked in the finest Whiskey in the city, Rosie was just leaning over to reach for Axel’s hand, trying not to laugh as she drunkenly tried to convince him she was a fortune teller. Just as she took his hand in hers, her gaze fell on a tall sleek man approaching the table. As if burnt with fire, her fingers dropped Axel’s hands and Rosie froze.
Max. It had been what she had dreaded about coming back to Edinburgh, seeing that face, those cold blue eyes, that dark sharp stare. Rosie’s eyes dropped immediately to the table as the man stopped right by them, smiling down at them like a snake charmer, his eyes lingering on Rosie before they moved curiously to Axel. 'I never would have thought to see you here, once more, Rose.' At the sound of her name, Rosie visibly stiffened, not even seeming to breathe as she refused to look at the man. Unperturbed, Max rose his hand to Rosie’s face, raking his fingers down her ghostly white cheek until he reached her jaw and tipped her face up, forcing her to look at him. 'Hello, Rosy Posy.'
Trembling and terrified, Rosie wasn’t able to move much as Max studied her face before flicking his fingers away as if disappointed. 'Shame. A waste. You must visit me next time you are in town.' His mouth curved up in a cheshire cat grin as he wandered away from their table. Reaching desperately for her Whiskey, she downed what was left in one small swallow before she was generously pouring another glass, bottle clinking against the glass as her hand shook and threatened to give way.
That makes more sense for him. He’s here… we’re here to expand the family business. Running a club. I’m sure he’ll have mentioned that. He prides himself on the free alcohol he can get. He does the day to day, I manage the finances.
Ah yes, I’ve been there. I always suspected the club was really a front, he always struck me as much too clever for what he did, interesting to know otherwise.
Yes, he struggles to keep it shut but he can. I’m sure you will, though. It’s not that difficult. I’m here for the same reason as Tony - I’m assuming you know him, of course.
Yes, I certainly know Tony, as to why he is here in Los Angeles I have no idea. We didn’t spend a lot of time getting to know one another.