Work Text:
Nevada laughed, clinking his glass against those of the other patrons in the dim-lit bar. He knocked back the drink quickly, giving the man who had been staring at him all night a wink. The man blushed and looked away.
Nevada had fully intended on getting wasted tonight, flirting with a few men, or even ten, and taking one back home. He needed some stress relief, especially after the past few years.
Those plans were foiled when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. With an apologetic smile to his group, he stepped away from the noise to answer the call.
“Yes?” Nevada answered.
“Nevada, Sir. There’s been a new development with the Cassano family,” the voice responded over the line.
Nevada glanced over his shoulder. No one in his group was looking at him. With that, he slipped into the alleyway behind the bar. “What sort of development are we talking about?”
“They’ve split up. Half the family moved across the country to New York. The other half decided to stick around. It sounds like some inheritance thing.”
Nevada frowned, “Are they still intending on keeping their half of the agreement?”
“Yes,” the voice responded.
“Then, I see no reason for concern,” Nevada said, relaxing into the wall.
“Well… Boss… there was something else of concern that came up.”
Nevada tensed quickly, “And that would be?”
“Enrico Rossini feels slighted by you in your latest dealings. He insists that you scammed him. Last I heard, he’s looking for you.”
“Shit,” Nevada muttered, looking around him, checking to make sure no one was sneaking up on him, “Thanks for the heads up.”
“No problem, boss. Stay safe out there.”
The line went dead.
This was really bad news. Like, really, really bad news.
In this line of business, when you pissed someone off, there were dire consequences. Nevada’s had experiences with it before.
If he were anyone else, there could be some way out of this situation. He could change his name and flee the country. But even then, he may not be entirely safe. Connections stretched far and wide in this line of work. But, he was a state personification, tied to the people that he represented. While he could easily leave the state borders, he couldn’t stay away forever.
Which meant one way or another, he’d have to face Enrico.
He pushed his way back into the bar, his group of companions right where he had left them.
“‘Vada! How was the phone call?” One of the men asked, a glint of humor in his eye.
Nevada scoffed, “Oh, it was just some work call. No need for that to ruin our night.”
The man slung an arm around Nevada’s shoulder, “That’s right! You heard it here, folks, the night is still young! Next round is on me!”
Cheers rang out across the group.
Against Nevada’s better judgement, he accepted the offer of staying for another round. Who did you think he was, Utah? He’d never turn down free alcohol.
Nevada sipped on his drink, letting himself relax. He started flirting with a couple of men he saw sitting at the bar, intent on holding true to his plans.
It was then that the doors to the bar swung open. A man strolled in wearing a tight button-up shirt and tight, black dress pants to match. He wore sunglasses despite the darkness of the hour. His face was unmistakable, however.
How did he find me so quickly? Nevada thought, panic lacing its way through his bones. He stumbled backward, issuing some flimsy excuse to the men who had been accompanying him, before rushing his way to the back of the bar, thanking whatever deity above for how crowded the place had gotten over the past few hours.
He needed to escape this place and fast. While he knew he’d have to face Enrico at some point, he wasn’t planning on it being when he was tipsy and without anything to protect himself.
He heard someone say, “Spotted him.”
He wasn’t about to wait around to find out who said it, or even if they were talking about him.
With shaking hands, he pushed his way out of the bar, finding himself back in the alley. He should never have gone back inside. What was he thinking? Truly, his brain needed to be removed from his skull and studied.
He started running down the alley when he heard the door of the bar fly open and slam against the wall. The bang echoed through the quiet alleyway. “Get him!” Enrico yelled, presumably at his men.
Nevada let out a gasp of horror as he pressed on running, hearing the loud footsteps of the men approaching him from behind.
Suddenly, a body collided with his, bringing him down hard. Winded, Nevada tried to free himself from the grips of the larger men.
Enrico stood above him, “I believe you’re out of places to run, Nevada.”
Nevada glanced behind him. In his panic, he had managed to back himself into a corner. Just his luck, truly.
“We have a dispute to settle,” Enrico continued, “You scammed me out of our deal.”
Nevada put his hands up placatingly, “Look, we can discuss this if you feel that the terms were unfair. I gave you what we had agreed upon when we had first established the deal.”
“You’re lying!” Enrico accused.
“I’m not!” Nevada countered, “And the more that you accuse me of it, the less likely I am to be generous and offer you more than what we had originally said.”
“Get him,” Enrico snarled.
Nevada didn’t want it to come to this. Really. While he may be one of the more impulsive states, he did have a moral code that he stood by. It was just a skill issue that the other states couldn’t figure it out.
One of his rules is that he did not harm his people. Of course, to any moral code, there were nuances. And he supposed that this may be one of those nuances. Surely, this would count as self-defense.
One of the two men charged at him, fist pulled back in a swing. Nevada dodged the attack easily. He was lucky that the man happened to be slow. The other man, whom Nevada decided to call Grumpy #2, which would make the first man Grumpy #1, raised his fists. Nevada darted behind him, causing Grumpy #2 to turn to face him. Grumpy #1 couldn’t stop his momentum, bumping into Grumpy #2.
While the two men were distracted, Nevada swiped a knife that was strapped to Grumpy #2’s leg. The man yelled out in rage, trying to get his knife back. Nevada branished it before him, using the man’s single-minded focus on the knife to swipe his legs out from under him. The man went down.
Nevada jumped over him, knocking him in the back of the head. Grumpy #2 was officially down for the count, slumping down unconscious onto the concrete floor.
Grumpy #1 landed a hit on Nevada’s abdomen. He let out a wheeze as he struggled to regain his breath. The large man tried to swipe at Nevada, but the Silver State jumped backwards. The man tried to jump at him again, and Nevada swung his arm that held the knife.
He felt the blood drip down his arm before he saw it. The knife was lodged firmly into the man’s chest. Grumpy #1’s eyes rolled back in his head before he slumped to the ground to join his friend.
Nevada carefully stepped around the fallen men, stalking up to Enrico. “You still want to resolve this by fighting?” he growled.
Enrico looked at him in horror. He backed away slowly before running back the other way down the alley.
Nevada let out a sigh, staring down at the two fallen men. He wasn’t looking forward to the clean-up. He dug his phone out of his pocket and made a call.
“Yeah, I need some clean-up on Madison. The Enrico Rossini situation has been dealt with.”