Post by Lynn on Feb 28, 2006 23:02:18 GMT -5
'Ew... gross,' were the first words that came to mind as a stranger brushed past her side. His gut, ten times the size of his humongous head, hanging over the waistband of his pants was visibly jiggling around as he half scurried, half walked into the building somewhere in the middle of Westerleigh, West Essex.
"Fuckin' watch where you're walking, douche bag." Words to make any grandmother keel over and die, correct? Not with Renee's family, and that's just the way she liked it. She had that kind of family that the saying "only a mother could love" applied to.
She threw up a vacant glare/'get the fuck away from me' look on her face while she regained her composure. A facade some would call it, but it's the way she had to be growing up in her family. Hands lifted from her sides to button up the last button of her child-size large navy pea coat covering a bit of red painted across her chest. The jacket just barely buttoned over her breasts. Her mother taught her well, apparently, "flaunt what you got, Darlin', and get a man to do it for you."
Not that her mother was ignorant or anything. In fact, she was probably more intelligent than the average person. Unbeknownst to the rest of the 'family,' mother was pretty much the brains behind the operation. Hinting to daddy the next great idea without making it obvious. Daddy, merely the brawns of the family business, had the nerves to steel and the name to back him up.
Anyone living in East Essex knew the family name and feared it. Why? Because they were the infamous Covens; known for having murdered countless men, but convicted for only thirteen of them, smuggling in that delicious white powder half the kids in places like Ivy Glen, Newport and Naples were always high on and embezzling money from dozens of small businesses around the entire country. If the act were illegal, her family probably had ties to it somehow. Renee pitied anyone who dared defy her family, but definately not enought o do anything about it.
By now, she was all the way down the block, and nearly around the corner, when she paused to remove her cell phone from the small black and white L.A.M.B. purse--Renee hadn't much interest in music, she merely enjoyed the graffiti-esque look of the print on the bag--thrown over her shoulder. She flipped the piece of technology open, and without ever averting her attention from the street infront of her, she held the phone up while pressing a button.
"Call Daddy," barking instructions at worthless things was something she had grown to be rather good at. Renee had the smooth, sultry voice that made every man want to melt.
"Hi, Daddy!" Yes, Renee was a classic Daddy's girl; she'd do just about anything he asked her to, hence her being in this vulgar city.
"Yes, Daddy. It's donce. He paid full, cash." She looked both ways before crossing the street, locks of dirty blonde hair bouncing around her face as her head turned in each direction. It wasn't natrurally this curly, to her dismay. In the entire hour and a half she spend each morning grooming herself, she always managed to get her make up done perfect, a brown shadow of color accenting her bright blue eyes quite nicely, and her hair to spring into those perfect curls.
"Of course I brought one, Daddy. I'm not dumb." A gun is what she was referring to, tucked into the waist of her pants above her butt where the back of her jacket concealed it.
"Yes, Sir. I'm h eading to the bank now," she made sure to always watch what she was saying in public like her daddy taught her, and to limit her swearing around him.
"Yes, Daddy. In all seven, I know. I've done this before." She did have to remain Daddy's little girl, after all.
"Yes, Daddy. I love you too. I'll be home for dinner tonight. See you around seven," and that was it. Renee shut the phone and reached around to slip it back into her purse. A pair of black Gucci sunglasses were slipped on to cover those honey-brown eyes of hers as the sun peaked through the clouds.
Off she headed toward the bank, just like she told Daddy Coven she would be doing. However, she stopped at a jewelry store somewhere in the middle of Essex, which was conveniently across the street from one of the many banks in Lindon that her father had hands dipped into. After sampling the wears, and purchasing a small silver bracelet for herself on behalf of her mother, she hopped across the street, figuratively of course, made her seven deposits and headed off to find herself a bit of sex before dinner with the folks.
Renee Lynn Coven seemed absolutely wonderful and perfect to the outside world, but somewhere up in a tall building not far from Renee, a man sat in his chair. A wild expression of shock, horror and betrayal upon his face. His chest was no longer rising to fill his lungs with oxygen like it normally should have. A long, thin line of crimson blood seeped from a single hole right between his eyes.
Renee Lynn Coven. 23. Recently out of college. 5'6. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. Upper class (filthy rich). Unemployed. East Essex from Ivy Glen.
"Fuckin' watch where you're walking, douche bag." Words to make any grandmother keel over and die, correct? Not with Renee's family, and that's just the way she liked it. She had that kind of family that the saying "only a mother could love" applied to.
She threw up a vacant glare/'get the fuck away from me' look on her face while she regained her composure. A facade some would call it, but it's the way she had to be growing up in her family. Hands lifted from her sides to button up the last button of her child-size large navy pea coat covering a bit of red painted across her chest. The jacket just barely buttoned over her breasts. Her mother taught her well, apparently, "flaunt what you got, Darlin', and get a man to do it for you."
Not that her mother was ignorant or anything. In fact, she was probably more intelligent than the average person. Unbeknownst to the rest of the 'family,' mother was pretty much the brains behind the operation. Hinting to daddy the next great idea without making it obvious. Daddy, merely the brawns of the family business, had the nerves to steel and the name to back him up.
Anyone living in East Essex knew the family name and feared it. Why? Because they were the infamous Covens; known for having murdered countless men, but convicted for only thirteen of them, smuggling in that delicious white powder half the kids in places like Ivy Glen, Newport and Naples were always high on and embezzling money from dozens of small businesses around the entire country. If the act were illegal, her family probably had ties to it somehow. Renee pitied anyone who dared defy her family, but definately not enought o do anything about it.
By now, she was all the way down the block, and nearly around the corner, when she paused to remove her cell phone from the small black and white L.A.M.B. purse--Renee hadn't much interest in music, she merely enjoyed the graffiti-esque look of the print on the bag--thrown over her shoulder. She flipped the piece of technology open, and without ever averting her attention from the street infront of her, she held the phone up while pressing a button.
"Call Daddy," barking instructions at worthless things was something she had grown to be rather good at. Renee had the smooth, sultry voice that made every man want to melt.
"Hi, Daddy!" Yes, Renee was a classic Daddy's girl; she'd do just about anything he asked her to, hence her being in this vulgar city.
"Yes, Daddy. It's donce. He paid full, cash." She looked both ways before crossing the street, locks of dirty blonde hair bouncing around her face as her head turned in each direction. It wasn't natrurally this curly, to her dismay. In the entire hour and a half she spend each morning grooming herself, she always managed to get her make up done perfect, a brown shadow of color accenting her bright blue eyes quite nicely, and her hair to spring into those perfect curls.
"Of course I brought one, Daddy. I'm not dumb." A gun is what she was referring to, tucked into the waist of her pants above her butt where the back of her jacket concealed it.
"Yes, Sir. I'm h eading to the bank now," she made sure to always watch what she was saying in public like her daddy taught her, and to limit her swearing around him.
"Yes, Daddy. In all seven, I know. I've done this before." She did have to remain Daddy's little girl, after all.
"Yes, Daddy. I love you too. I'll be home for dinner tonight. See you around seven," and that was it. Renee shut the phone and reached around to slip it back into her purse. A pair of black Gucci sunglasses were slipped on to cover those honey-brown eyes of hers as the sun peaked through the clouds.
Off she headed toward the bank, just like she told Daddy Coven she would be doing. However, she stopped at a jewelry store somewhere in the middle of Essex, which was conveniently across the street from one of the many banks in Lindon that her father had hands dipped into. After sampling the wears, and purchasing a small silver bracelet for herself on behalf of her mother, she hopped across the street, figuratively of course, made her seven deposits and headed off to find herself a bit of sex before dinner with the folks.
Renee Lynn Coven seemed absolutely wonderful and perfect to the outside world, but somewhere up in a tall building not far from Renee, a man sat in his chair. A wild expression of shock, horror and betrayal upon his face. His chest was no longer rising to fill his lungs with oxygen like it normally should have. A long, thin line of crimson blood seeped from a single hole right between his eyes.
Renee Lynn Coven. 23. Recently out of college. 5'6. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. Upper class (filthy rich). Unemployed. East Essex from Ivy Glen.