Sherry's Story

Meeting With the Devil

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with the Sin City franchise and I’m not making any money from this.

Author’s Note: I noticed from the movie that there seemed to be a big age gap between the two Roarke sons and that’s where I got the inspiration for this plot bunny. Enjoy! Also, this chapter is dedicated to jlclark. I’m so glad you like this story and I hope you like this chapter!

lll

The Mob offered a one hundred thousand dollar reward for any information on the murder of Richard Kershaw but it went unclaimed. It was widely rumoured around Sin City that every Mob snitch was told to keep his eyes and ears open for any kind of information, but they heard nothing. How could they? No one knew the truth except me and Ben. And after everything he’d done for me, he sure as hell wouldn’t spill the beans.

As the days passed and there was no one coming to arrest Ben, I realized that Richard hadn’t told Don Battaglio anything about where my Uncle Tom’s body was. I breathed easier.

“I’ve called the Senator and made an appointment to see him,” Ben announced one morning after breakfast. “I figured that since I’m not working for the Mob anymore, I might as well see if I can get my old job back. You’re not mad at me, are ya, Sherry?”

I swallowed my mouthful of coffee and pondered my next words carefully. Ben was looking at me with such hope and dread, as if he were a child and wasn’t sure if telling the truth to an adult would be bad or good.

I had a good idea that he wanted me to be happy about the news and I would be for his sake. I knew damn well that he hated working for the Mob. Working for Roarke again would be an improvement.

“No, I’m not mad. I’m glad. Will the Mob let you go?”

Ben shrugged. “I wasn’t a made man, thank God, and I didn’t swear the Oath of Loyalty so it’s not like I bound myself to them for life.”

“Do you think Roarke will meet with you?”

Ben grinned. “It took me a while to get past the pit bull that screens all his calls, but I managed to speak with him personally. I told him I found some stuff in Kershaw’s safe that he might be interested in. Roarke took the bait and told me to come to his office tomorrow. “Will you come with me?”

I nodded. My place was at Ben’s side and even though I wanted never to see Roarke again, I realized that he wasn’t going to do anything to me if my strong, strapping husband was there beside me.

A couple of days after Richard’s funeral, Ben showed me the documents he had taken. Despite the fact that on the night of the murder, he had had a very short time to select which file to take, the ones he had chosen from the Roarke dossier were pure gold.

Like several generations of Roarke men before him, the youngest son had inherited an insatiable appetite for sex. “Feed ‘em, fuck ‘em, and forget ‘em,” was the unofficial Roarke family motto when it came to women. From my own experience, I knew that it didn’t matter to the Roarke men if sex was consensual or not. Instead, they seemed to thrive on hurting a woman during sex. I’ve always wondered if the Roarke men could even get a hard-on if the woman beneath them did not cry or beg.

True to his bloodline, Roarke’s younger son spread his seed far and wide through countless women. This time, however, one brave woman chose to bear his child instead of aborting it as many others had done. A son was born. Whether or not his father or his grandfather knew about the boy was unknown, but after reading the document, Ben and I figured out that it wasn’t likely.

A proud man like Roarke, who, under the custom-made suit and polished manners, was still a family man. With two grown sons, one of them destined to a life of celibacy in the Catholic Church, it was only natural that his proud old mind automatically looked to the future when he could cradle his younger son’s child—his grandchild--in his arms.

lll

As I expected, Roarke made us wait for hours before he allowed us into his office. Like everything the family owned, the office was sumptuous and elegant, as if reminding his visitors how rich and powerful he was.

When we were ushered into his office, I smiled a bit when I saw the size of his desk. Solid and expensive, it was specifically built to impress anyone who saw it for the first time. But I wasn’t. I hadn’t come here to gawk at the furniture.

Ben and I remained standing as there were no seats for us. I had no objection; the faster this interview went, the faster we could get out of there. Being on his own turf, Roarke immediately took control of the meeting.

“Well, Ben? Why did you want to see me?”

“I’ve got some information that you might find interesting,” Ben said. “As a matter of fact—”

Roarke interrupted before Ben could finish his sentence. “You were an employee for years and that’s the only reason I’m even seeing you today. I don’t have all day. I’ve got a golf game with the governor in an hour.”

The Senator’s condescension toward my husband was making me angry. I took the file out of Ben’s jacket and slid it over to Roarke. “Put this in your pipe and smoke it, asshole,” I said.

It was a joint decision between myself and Ben to remove any information or photographs that identified the mother or would allow anyone to find her. Las Vegas was one of the few cities in America that was the perfect place for someone to go if they wanted to disappear. As long as the boy’s mother kept under the radar, it was unlikely that the Roarke family would find her. Being of limited resources, she had to live in the bad part of town; as long as she stayed away from the Strip, she wasn’t likely to meet her baby’s father or grandfather even if they did go to the city.

“Ben also knows about the Mob’s contacts and resources in Sin City,” I added as an incentive.

I knew enough about powerful men to know that Roarke was certainly interested in finding ways to make even more money. His main competition in cornering the market in brothels and drugs in Sin City was the Mob. Ben had sound inside information that would add a lot to the Roarke family fortunes if he told them what he knew.

However, like all good strategists, Roarke tried to appear as if he cared less. He looked through the file for a few moments and with a sneer twisting his handsome face, tossed it across his desk back to Ben. “So my son fucked a piece of trash cocktail waitress in Vegas, got her pregnant and she had the kid. So what? My legitimate heirs—my boys--are the most important to me; I could care less about some brat who comes from the wrong side of the sheets.”

“That brat, who ‘comes from the wrong side of the sheets,’ as you put it, is still half Roarke,” I reminded him. “Blood is blood and a grandchild is still a grandchild. A part of you is in that baby. He or she could have your eyes or your cleft chin. Hell, it could even have that big Roman nose that seems to run in your family. Don’t you get it? Or are you too concerned with making sure the only grandchildren you recognize are the ones whose mothers have blood as blue as yours?”

I knew I had my answer when I saw the Senator roll his eyes and I lost my temper.

“Considering that your eldest son is going to have a career in the Church, you’re not going to get any grandchildren from him. Your only chance to be a grandfather is through your other son. What if something happens to him? In that case, there will be no one to carry on the Roarke name that you’re so fucking proud of!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Roarke drawled, giving me a sly grin and a wink, “I may father another child someday. As you found out in my bedroom, I can certainly rise to the occasion.”

I was so angry, I saw red. I took a step towards him but Ben held me back. He shook his head slightly and he quietly reminded me that we hadn’t come here to dredge up the past. Ben was right but deep down I was furious that Roarke could refer to my gang rape so casually.

I had one more ace up my sleeve. “You have a lot of enemies, Senator. Ben is the best at what he does. Under his watch, did anyone ever get that close to you before? Hell no! Without him watching your back, who is going to stop your next enemy from using your sons as target practice? Anyone determined enough to hurt you will get a gun past your so-called security team and you know it. Maybe someone you screwed will blow one of your boys’ heads off and do our state a great service. And if that happens, I hope you are there to see it and remember this conversation.”

Now it was his turn to get angry. I knew I had pushed Roarke’s buttons when his face turned purple and veins stood out on his forehead and neck. “Ben, get yourself and your little slut the hell out of my office!”

Ben shrugged. “She’s got a point.”

“Get the hell out of my office! NOW!” Roarke jabbed his finger hard on the intercom to his secretary’s line. “Louise, I want security in here to dispose of two pieces of trash, right fucking now!”

Ben sneered. “Bring ‘em on! I can beat anyone you’ve got and you know it.”

I took Ben’s arm and tugged him toward the door. He wasn’t armed and there was a good chance that the men already pounding their way down the hall were. And that they would have no hesitation of shooting a million holes in Ben at the Senator’s slightest nod. “Let’s go.”

lll

I’ve never been a superstitious person, but in the years that passed, I have always thought that what happened two days later to Roarke’s younger son was one hell of a coincidence.

A new sports arena was being dedicated and the Senator and his younger son were to attending the grand opening. Thousands of people attended and the Senator was in the middle of cutting the ceremonial ribbon when there were raised voices and the sound of a commotion was transmitted through the crowd.

“Hold on, Sherry,” Ben said. “Something’s up.”

“What is it?”

“Dunno, lemme take a look-see.”

It was easy for Ben to see what was going on as he towered head and shoulders above the crowd. I couldn’t see what Ben was looking at but I knew that look on his face. Something was wrong but before I could ask him anything, I heard the sound of gunfire, following immediately after by screams.

“Gun!” Someone yelled. I felt myself being thrown to the ground.

“Stay down!” Ben said, as he crouched over me, protecting me from being hit. Fear took over my body and I froze where I was. Ben and I were safe for the moment but that wasn’t going to last. Screams of fear and panic filled the stadium as thousands of people ran to get out of the line of fire. What began as a peaceful assembly descended quickly into a mob scene.

Ben picked me up in his arms and bodily shoved his way through the crowd until we were at the side where it was quieter. We climbed up two flights of the stairs to the ‘B’ level of seats.

“You okay, babe?” he asked, his face tight with concern.

I shivered from delayed shock. “Yeah. What the hell happened?”

“Someone took a shot at the Senator, but got his son instead.”

“Can you tell how bad it is?”

“I’m no doctor, but even I can tell he’s gonna die, if he hasn’t already. He took a bullet to the head. Christ, he doesn’t even look like a man anymore!” Ben winced and turned away.

I knew my husband had a strong stomach when it came to blood and violence but for something to shake him like this, I knew it had to be bad. I remembered very well what I had yelled in the Senator’s face a few days before.

“What about the guy who did it?”

“It looks like the he’s trying to make a break for it and with a crowd panicking like this, it’s only going to get more dangerous for everybody. The cops are trying to restore some order but it’s useless. Roarke’s men have their guns out and are going after the guy, but if they’re smart, they’ll wound him so he can be questioned. At least, that’s what I would have recommended if I were in charge.”

I flinched as more shots rang out as the Senator’s bodyguards opened fire on the escaping assassin. The gunfire only escalated the crowd’s desperation to get away.

“No, they got him,” Ben said. “And he’s full of holes. Now we’ll never know who he worked for or who sent him. Damn!”

I could see what was going on. The spectators in front ran forward, preventing anyone from getting to the centre of the madness where the life of a young man was slowly ebbing away.

With my own eyes, I saw the Senator crawl on his belly like a snake in a desperate attempt to reach his son. The Senator’s bodyguards tried in vain to get him out of the line of fire, but Roarke refused to leave his son’s body. He took his boy into his arms and cradled him like a modern-day pieta.

Ben had been right—it was bad. He was missing half his head and because Roarke had been standing beside him when the shot came, he was covered with his son’s brains and bone matter. I saw the Senator try in vain to staunch the bleeding, but the blood streamed from between his fingers in great gushes. The Senator was holding his entire world in his arms and each fading heartbeat from his son soaked his suit and stained his white dress shirt.

High above the chaos and confusion of people screaming for a doctor, I heard the painful and pitiful sound of a father sobbing as he begged his son to hang on. Shortly after, the rafters of the building seemed to shake with his inhuman and heartbreaking screams of grief and complete despair as Roarke realized his son was dead.

Only a parent could make that sound as they mourned for their dead child. I had grieved for my baby like that too. In that moment, Roarke became human and I stopped being afraid of him.

lll

A week after he buried his son, Senator Roarke came knocking at our door. He looked terrible—he hadn’t showered or shaved since I saw him at the televised funeral and if I wasn’t mistaken, he was still wearing the same suit. He was in a bad way and even though I hated him, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. His hair had a lot more grey in it and he looked as if he’d aged twenty years in the space of seven days. There were dark shadows under his eyes.

The three of us sat at my humble kitchen table, an awkward silence that was deafening. I made some black coffee for us all and I saw that my guest’s hand shook as he took the cup from me. From the moment I caught the reek of stale brandy that saturated his clothes, I knew that last thing he needed was more alcohol.

The Senator had come here with something on his mind but now that he was where he wanted to be, it was as if he had forgotten why he had come. He was a grieving father now, and without his speech makers and aides by his side, he didn’t know what to say.

“How have you been, Senator?” I asked. I knew it was a stupid question but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Instead of answering, our state’s most powerful man lowered his head into his hands. To Ben’s and my surprise and dismay, he began to weep. Without his entourage of bodyguards and lackeys and other hangers-on, he could finally grieve; letting loose the iron grip he had had on his emotions during the last week. Ben and I shifted uncomfortably as we waited for him to regain his composure.

“Sherry, may I speak with you alone?” Senator Roarke asked.

“Nothin’ doin’,” Ben snarled. “After what you did to her, if you think for one goddamn minute that I’m gonna let you be alone with my wife….”

“I won’t hurt her,” Roarke replied. “And if you think I would harm her, you can shoot me between the eyes. Trust me, Ben, you’ll be doing me a favour.” There was a ghost of a wry grin on the politician’s face.

“If I do shoot you, it sure as hell won’t be between the eyes, Roarke.” Ben lowered his eyes and stared at Roarke’s belt buckle and they both understood what Ben meant.

“Deal.”

“I’m gonna go to the bedroom with my ear to the keyhole, Sherry,” Ben said. “And if I hear anything, I swear to God I’ll…”

“I’ll be all right. He’s too old and too drunk to hurt me. Please, will you go?” I said.

“All right, I’m goin’,” Ben grumbled.

I waited until I heard the bedroom door close before I spoke. “Why did you want to see me?”

“Because you are—were—a mother and you know what its like to lose a child.”

“Yes. Even so, I can’t imagine what you are feeling right now. And as much as I despise you and your sons for what they did to me, I wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss.”

The Senator looked at me. “You’ve grown up, haven’t you?”

“I guess I have,” I admitted. “Since I arrived in Sin City, I’ve gone through a lot and I’ve had to become an adult faster than I wanted to.”

“My boys and I were responsible for some of that change. Don’t deny it and I don’t grudge you for rubbing my nose in it. God knows I did the same to you when you came to my office.”

“Yes, you did. Six months ago, I probably would have sung out loud and danced a jig if your son died.”

“Despite your age, Sherry, you are braver than most adults. Most of the men I have around me wouldn’t have half the balls to say something like that to me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, daring to grin a little.

“It’s meant as one,” he replied. He cocked his head to one side and looked at me. “You’re not afraid of me anymore, are you?”

“Nope. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that usually you tremble when I’m close to you but not today.”

I raised my chin. “This is my house and I won’t allow you or anyone else to control or scare me here.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Roarke said, “because I know what Ben did to you…here in your own house.”

I interrupted my guest as I had no wish to go back down that road. “Why are you here?” I snapped.

“I am a proud man, Sherry. I am accustomed to giving an order and having it obeyed instantly and without hesitation. During my entire life, I can count on the fingers of one hand how many times that I’ve ever had to apologize or admit when I was wrong. This is one of those times and I hope you’ll understand how hard this is for me. It wasn’t until I saw my son lowered into his grave that I realized you were right. About a lot of things.” I had to force myself not to remove my hand when he took it in his. “Blood is blood. And a grandchild is still a grandchild. That boy or girl is all that I have left of my son. From what I saw on those papers, my grandchild is in Las Vegas but I don’t know where.”

I debated on what to say next. A part of me wanted to dangle hints of the child’s gender in front of Roarke like a carrot, but I didn’t have to. He brought up the subject himself

“Do you know if it is a boy or girl?”

“Yes I do,” I said and offered nothing further.

A hopeful look came into the older man’s eyes. “Could—would you tell me?”

“Does it matter if it’s a boy or not?” I asked. Proud men like Roarke always tended to prefer girls to boys, since the name is carried on only through the male line. Daughters in families like his tended to be overlooked, except when it came to marriage and they were married into other powerful families, to seal business deals or to secure political connections and alliances.

“No,” Roarke said hastily. “I just wanted to know. Is the child healthy? Does he or she have all its fingers and toes?”

“Yes, to both questions,” I said. “But the mother is a waitress and they don’t have a lot of money.” The woman had run halfway across the country to get away from the Roarke family and I was delivering her and her baby back to them for my own benefit. I hated myself for that, for I knew what it was like to live in fear of the Roarke men and what they could do to someone without resources, without a family to protect them. “What about the mother? What will you do with her?”

“I’ll give her anything she wants.”

“What if all she wants if her baby and to be left alone?”

“Then I will tell her that I can give the child a good life, the best of everything. I am a rich man, Sherry. I can give that boy or girl the best education, a life of privilege…Every mother wants what is best for her child, right?”

“What about love?” I knew he had loved his son—I saw with my own eyes how he acted at the arena as he tenderly cradled his dying boy in his arms. I also remembered the news footage of him collapsing at the gravesite, weeping and keening like the grief-stricken father that he was. But I had to hear it for myself.

The Senator looked away and more tears fell from his eyes. “I always told him that I was proud of him but I never said ‘I love you.’ That’s going to stay with me for the rest of my life. I will not make the same mistake with my grandchild. Does that answer your question?”

“It does. You have a grandson,” I said. “And he’s perfectly healthy. However, the mother is not.”

“What’s wrong? Is she sick?” Roarke asked. Either he was the best actor in the world, or else I saw genuine compassion on his face.

“I don’t know. The report doesn’t say.”

“I’ll find out,” the Senator said firmly. “And when I do, I’ll go to Vegas personally and talk to her. May I see the file myself?” Roarke asked.

“Not so fast, Senator. Before you get what you want, I need to get what I want.”

“Name it and it’s yours.”

“Give Ben his old job back.”

“Done.”

“Get him to work for you somewhere other than here.”

“No problem, but I have to ask why do you want to leave Sin City?”

“Because the Mob is out to get me for Richard’s murder. And they will use Ben to get to me.”

“Were you the one that killed him?”

“Does it matter?” I asked, my stare cool and level.

“No. Me and a lot of other people in this town are extremely grateful to whoever did kill the bastard,” the Senator looked me square in the eye for a long moment. He knew the truth. He knew I had killed Richard. “If it hadn’t been for his murder, I never would have known that I have a grandson. But in response to your request, consider it done. I have plenty of lucrative positions that Ben could fill in other parts of the country.”

“Before we go on, I think Ben should be here with us and we can talk about it. I’ll get him.” I rose to my feet and went to the bedroom. Ben must have been listening with his ear to the door because as soon as I opened it, it hit him square on the nose. He had done as he’d promised. After seeing that he was all right, I asked, “Were you spying on me?”

“Hell, yeah! Do you think I’d leave you within arm’s reach of that bastard again and not try to look out for you any way I could? As long as I’m alive, I’ll have your back, babe. Now, let’s get back to our guest.”