Scene One

Opening Scene

The white limo pulled up in front, stopping at the entrance as appropriate for a VIP, from within streamed the blaring music of the opening band.  The lights outside were bright and a line twisted back around the end of the block.  The crowd was wild tonight, excited for some popular local band that was performing.  Carlisle smiled; this was just the kind of place he was hoping for.  Taking a final swig of his bourbon he nodded to the driver.

His door opened a moment later and he stepped out of the white limo, dressed in his white suit with red cowboy boots, feeling like the million dollars he hoped to make on his investment: the Double Deuce.  There was only one problem, the clientele, and that’s why he was here.

Carlisle slipped on his hat and stepped toward the din.  The bouncer nodded to him as he approached the door, the scent of wealth all around him.  The velvet rope was pulled aside and he stepped into the dark room; somehow the interior of the club was even darker than the night outside.  On stage a man sang a familiar old song to a new tune as the crowd pulsed with life.  Couples were dancing and the alcohol streamed steadily; this was where the money was, good drinks and good times, all he needed was a little help cleaning things up.

This place wasn’t too different from the dark and crowded ambiance of the Double Deuce.  There was no reason why he couldn’t run a spot where people could enjoy themselves and not end up in the emergency room.  Leaning against a pole at one end of the bar Carlisle spotted the black haired man he had come here for.  Sam Uley had a reputation, he was efficient and when necessary, completely brutal.  Unfortunately that was just what Carlisle needed.

As he approached the bar he stopped when a woman’s voice broke through the din.

“You asshole!  What do you take me for?”  She slapped a man who stood too close to her to have feigned innocence for whatever the infraction had been.   He grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward his body as they crashed against a table, shattering glass and spilling drinks.  The man’s arms wrapped around her as he leaned in to take a kiss that wasn’t being offered.  Carlisle smiled at the familiar scene.  Would things end up doing down hill from here, the way they did in Forks?

“Hey, get the fuck away from her!” another man called out as he charged the instigator, his fist meeting flesh.  The two men tussled roughly but the woman was still caught in the middle, unable to escape the grip around her waist.

“Let go, damnit!  Let fucking go!” the woman screamed, her blonde hair fanning out around her face as she struggled to free herself from the clutches of her attacker.  She slammed one heel down on his foot and scurried away just in time for the second man to deliver a brutal blow to the first’s jaw.

“It’s time for you gentlemen to leave.” A calm voice broke through the mêlée, stopping everyone in their tracks.  Carlisle smiled, glad to see Sam in action first hand; this was just the kind of situation he needed to know the new Cooler could handle.  Sam was tall but slim, not the beefy kind of guy he had expected, but it was clear that the crowd did not want to get on Uley’s bad side.

“It’s all right.  We were just having a little fun,” the drunken man slurred, wiping the blood away from his mouth.

The woman stepped up quickly, grabbing the arm of her would-be savior.  “It’s okay,  I’m sorry.” She smiled tentatively at the Cooler pulling her companion away from the scene.

“Okay, Sam, I’ve always wanted to try you,” the troublemaker slurred. “I think I can take you.”

“Outside,” the cooler commanded calmly, not intimidated by the threat.

Carlisle followed the crowd outside, weaving his way through the excited bodies to see just how this would play out.  Could Sam keep the situation under control?  Was it possible to end this incident without having to close the bar down for the night, as he so often had to do?  Sometimes Carlisle wondered if his bouncers weren’t half the problem, but he was a business man, not an enforcer, and had no idea how to manage his bulky staff.

Outside, Sam took off his jacket and handed it to one of the patrons.  He was dressed in nice slacks and a tight fitting shirt; he looked professional, not at all like the fighter his reputation boasted.  Despite his lack of bulk Sam was confident as he took a fighting stance.  Poised and ready, there was no denying he looked like he knew what he was doing.

“Ok.  So here we are, let’s go.” The drunken man taunted Sam as he pushed up his sleeves and motioned for his friends to join him.  Four men surrounded the Cooler, shouting out to him.

The first man rushed him but Sam ducked the attack, pulling away gracefully.

“Come on, hot shot!” The first man circled, trying to pull Sam into the fight.  “Come ON!  Come on!  Let’s do it!”  When he was close enough to throw a punch, Sam ducked and delivered an upper cut to the man’s ribs that stopped his breath for a moment with the impact.  The man fell, more than likely with a broken rib or two.

Sam stood up from his crouch and turned away from the fallen man, intending to return to his position inside the bar when one of the drunken man’s friends called out.

“Dirtball, where you going?

“Mouse-lips, get back here!

“Dickhead!”

Sam laughed dismissively as they circled him. “What are you?  The Seven Dwarfs?”

The music swelled inside as the fight outside rose to a fevered pitch.  Someone pulled the first man out of the way as the three remaining attacked Sam.  He was fast and efficient in his brutality.  He did not hit unless he could make it count and did not falter when he was delivered a punch.  Blood poured down Sam’s lip where it had been split as he delivered a powerful blow to one man’s face before turning to kick another in the knee so hard that Carlisle was sure he heard the bones splinter.  The third man raised his hands and backed away in defeat.

Sam stood and watched as he left his friends and sped off into the night.

“All right folks, that’s enough of that,” Sam stated, ushering the crowd back inside.

Carlisle lagged behind, watching as the injured men limped off to home or the hospital as appropriate and Sam retrieved his jacket.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He asked as the slight Cooler approached. “Name’s Sam, right?”

“I don’t know you,” Sam’s voice was low and clear, carrying more authority than his frame indicated. But after seeing him take down four men single-handedly, Carlisle knew better than to underestimate him.  This would be just the man to ensure his investment.

“My name is Cullen,” he began, “Carlisle Cullen.  I have a little club outside Port Angeles, Washington called the Double Deuce…”

Sam appraised the man standing before him and nodded, noting the shiny red cowboy boots sticking out from under the hem of his tailored white suit.  He led the way through the bar and into the back room where the performers got dressed; Sam had a locker with a change of clothes stored.

“The Double Deuce…well it used to be a sweet deal.  Now it’s the kind of place that they sweep up the eyeballs after closing.”

Sam chuckled at the frankness of the man standing before him as he wiped the blood off of his lip with a towel.

“Anyway, I’ve come into a little bit of money and I’d like to make a better life for myself.  I need somebody to help me clean the place up.”  Carlisle pause for impact, hoping that if he made his pitch well enough Sam would consider coming to Forks and helping with the local degenerates.  He continued, ready to seal the deal. “I need the best.”

“Billy Black’s the best,” Sam countered, taking in the man’s reaction in.

“Billy Black’s getting old.” Carlisle spoke matter-of-factly, no insult intended.  Sam chuckled and nodded his head. It spoke well of the strange man in the white suit that he knew who Billy was.

“He’s still the best,” Sam insisted, shaking his head lightly.

“I want you.” Carlisle was clear; he didn’t put pressure on Sam but stated his position plainly.  Sam liked men like that; the kind of person he could trust; there weren’t many of those left in this world.

“Five thousand dollars up front, a thousand a night, cash.  You pay all the medical expenses.”

“I can live with that.” Carlisle risked a small smile, not wanting to jinx his luck, but this was just the way he liked to do business: straight down to the nitty gritty and sealed with a hand shake.

“I run the show…completely.” Sam stared into Carlisle’s eyes wanting to make sure he was understood.  This wouldn’t work if he didn’t have control over the staff.  

Sam sat on the edge of the desk behind him and crossed his arms thinking about his options.  He’d been here for a while, longer than he usually stayed in one place and he was getting a little tired of the noise of city life.  It might be nice to get back to the West, back to a place like the reservation in Idaho he grew up on.

“When the job’s done, I walk,” Sam continued.

“I’ve got your plane ticket right here.” Carlisle pulled the wallet-sized package of papers out of his pocket.

Sam shook his head with a wry smile. “I don’t fly…too dangerous.”

“Well, when doI expect you?” Carlisle tucked the tickets back into his pocket.

“Don’t. I’ll get there.”

A tall man burst into the room, interrupting them.  “Sam, you all right?” he asked worriedly, his dark hair wild on top of his this face, making him look strangely like a ferret.

“It’s just a scratch,” he replied and touched his lip with a smile.  “By the way, Jared, Bandstand’s all yours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The man raised an eyebrow skeptically.  Sam wasn’t typically one to joke, but Jared had a hard time believing he was actually serious.

“I’m outta here.” Sam accepted the job without another glance at his new employer, grabbing his jacket and patting Jared on the shoulder as he walked out.

“Great!” Jared called to Sam’s retreating figure with an excited smile.

Carlisle followed behind through the swell of the bar until they were outside in the cool night air.  “Somehow, you know, I thought you’d be…” he began hesitantly “…bigger.”

Sam shook his head lightly with a chuckle and walked down the dark alley next to the club, away from his old life and toward the next adventure.