"So, where did he take you?"

Charlotte asked, examining Esmé from under her hooded eyes. She poured a light drink for the Lady, who had just returned from her rendezvous with the blonde twin. She clinked their glasses, but Esmé remained still.

"Are you not going to tell me?" The red-haired woman urged eagerly, pouting with crossed arms as she leaned against the bar counter.

"There's nothing much to tell," Esmé murmured, looking down with a small smile on her lips. Her head felt light every time the happenings of the past hours replayed in front of her eyes. Her cheeks turned a mild red.

"It doesn't look like that though." Sighing, Charlotte threw her hair back. She uttered, grinning, "Anyway, I'm glad Everett's opening up like this. It's refreshing to see him enjoy himself."

Esmé tilted her head to the side, squinting her eyes confused, "He's a womaniser, you said. I bet he always found a way to enjoy himself."

"Huh?" Charlotte gasped, frowning. "I never said such a thing."

"Of course," Esmé chuckled, her finger tracing over the rim of her glass, "Remember when I first came here? You introduced him, saying he's all over the girls."

"Oh my god," Charlotte burst out laughing, holding her chest with her hand, "Did I? Guess, I liked riling you up that night. Everett is the most trite lover there could be. No offence."

Esmé shook her head amused, noting playfully, "Ouch."

"Despite his age-" Charlotte took a deep breath, groaning, "he's the most inexperienced man I have ever come across. But Dean is the philanderer. People think that Dean's busying himself with women at night."

"He has the looks," Esmé stated, "That's for sure."

"He might," Charlotte shrugged, her gaze wandering around the pub. A concerned look appeared in her features. "They both do, but they have never actually been in a serious relationship - both of the brothers," The bar lady explained, "they're busy changing the world." She snickered bitterly, emphasising the last words dramatically.

"But they're trying though," Esmé mumbled. She admired them for that. It was tough and brave to stand up for the folks in need or ones that are oppressed. Especially if you have dangerous men as your opponents. Someone had to dare to take the first step.

"They are," Charlotte rolled her eyes, leaning closer. Her next words causing a jaunty laugh to erupt in Esmé. "But goddamnit, they like emoting the crap out of it. They don't have hobbies. They don't have girlfriends. How boring."

The girls turned around to watch the scene inside the pub behind them. A wave of serenity swept over them as both enjoyed their drinks. Esmé was surprised that she didn't feel affected yet by the alcohol she had consumed in the span of a few hours.

The pub was less crowded than it usually was. Jazzy sounds filled the air together with laughs and cheers. Everyone seemed livelier and higher in spirit tonight. The colours were more vibrant to Esmé's eyes, the smile on her lips never faltering.

She listened to her surroundings, her mind blank. Being in this muddle of mixed feelings, it was difficult to think straight. The evening she had spent with Everett had been- enchanting even. She wanted it to remain beautifully in her memories. And she didn't want to leave yet that would bring an end to this moment. But she would have to eventually.

Looking up from her glass, Esmé met Charlotte's shiny green eyes that had been resting on her already. A thought crossed her mind.

"What is Ellis Walker like?"

The words splurted out her, her question hanging in the air as Charlotte seemed to thoroughly think about what to say.

"He is a nice guy." She hesitated for a few seconds before a long, slow breath left her lips. "Ellis is-" She huffed, running her fingers through her hair- "He is different than Everett. Everett has always been the courageous one," Smiling, she added, "in disguise.

"Ellis has always walked in his brother's footsteps - on the path he paved for him, helping him become the leader of a large movement. Ellis is the more popular twin since he's the one around us. Everett is the one people fear.

"Ellis is the more- how do I say it- the more vulnerable one. It took him years to get over the loss of their parents. You can't blame him though. Quite the contrary, Everett was quick to handle the situation as if he had predicted it. He has always been the stronger and more clever one out of them."

Strange. It was as if Charlotte talked about different people than the Walkers Twins Esmé had met. To her, Ellis was the threatening and scary one. Everett, on the other hand, was gentle and caring. He was just good at concealing what worried him.

Remembering how icy Ellis had always watched her or how he threatened her, caused Esmé to shudder timidly.

"What is it that Everett does for his brother?" Esmé bit her lip, looking at the drink between her shaky hands. There was no denying that she feared to hear the answer.

"Did." Charlotte corrected her with a soft voice, "He did a lot of things in the past. Now, they're far away from committing crimes. Don't worry, Esmé." Then her expression turned stern, "But I believe it's not my place to tell you. I think-"

"True. It's not your place to tell her anything." A harsh voice chimed, cutting Charlotte off.

Ellis.

He sat down, settling next to Esmé, his hands folded on the wooden counter, his gaze directed to the front. Esmé took a glimpse of him but didn't dare to turn his way completely. His jaw was tightly clenched, his black hair not as neatly done as typical.

His sharp voice tore the atmosphere, all the sense of cheerful equanimity crumbling, replacing it with unease.

"You shouldn't be talking to anyone about us anywhere, Char." He motioned her to prepare him a drink.

"What do you want to-"

"The regular." Nodding, she disappeared to the far corner of the bar, leaving Esmé alone with the so-called popular twin.

"Don't talk heedlessly inside the pub about my brother." This sounded a lot like a command and Esmé fought the urge to quarrel. He was right, though she would never admit.

"You're enough of a nuisance to me as it is."

"You don't even know me." She gritted her teeth.

Ellis whirled around on his stool. His elbow rested on the counter as his intimidating face moved closer to her. "I know your fa-"

A pair of hands came to rest on his shoulders, shaking him lightly and interrupting him mid-sentence. Esmé's eyes immediately lit up when they landed on Everett, who gleamed with a bright smile. He winked at her before squeezing his brother's shoulders tightly.

"Grumpy git," Everett chuckled, "Are you bothering her?"

Ellis shook off his hold, groaning. "Somebody has to show her her place."

"Oh, did you show her the way into my arms?"

Esmé's brows rose surprised, her lips curving up in a smile, the tension in her loosened. But the charcoal-haired brother was anything else but pleased by Everett's sudden appearance. He moaned fretfully, standing up from his stool. "You're irksome."

"Cut me some slack after bearing you for over 25 years."

"Shut your bloody mouth, Dean."

The brothers stood face to face. Everett grinned widely, Ellis frowned exasperatedly. But in a matter of seconds, his features softened, his head falling to the front.

"Whatever. I'm only worried. That's it."

Esmé got up to her feet, glancing into Ellis' eyes, smiling assuringly. With a tender tone, she said, "Trust me, I won't deceive you. It's just that our paths crossed and I'm willing to support you if you let me."

"Come on, Ellis." Charlotte returned. She leaned over the counter, pouting, "Don't be so shy. Be open to new friendships."

He glared at her, mocking her babying tone before puffing a load of heavy breath, muttering another 'whatever'.

"You're such a grouchy gramps." Everett grabbed his neck, forcing Ellis to look at him. A chuckle escaped him when he saw his brother's plastered frown.

"Whatever, I don't care what you all do." Ellis pushed his twin away from himself.

"Whatever, whatever" Charlotte mimicked his words with a playful voice, "Is this all-"

She stopped, her eyes darting to the entrance of the pub, watching the door swing open with a sudden force, revealing a group of five men entering the pub. 

Esmé and the twins turned their heads to see them walk inside with an overvalued confidence, their poises straight. They talked loudly, laughing like hyaenas when a few female guests avoided them. All in similar attire, suits in muddy colours, their berets in unison. It was the first time for Esmé to see any of them.

They glanced to the bar, asking for two tables. But some customers were quick to leave when they noticed the chaps, clearing enough chairs for them.

A black-haired tall man wearing a brown suit ordered around rudely, gesturing a young woman to take a seat on his lap. Rolling her eyes, she moved away from them. Grabbing her bag, she was out the door.

A second one - with long brown hair - waved towards the bar again. Everything seemed to happen in a matter fo seconds. Esmé whirled in her seat, eyeing Charlotte utterly perplexed, "Who are these rascals?"

"I don't know," Her friend murmured, looking just as flummoxed, a frown prominent in her features.

She walked around the counter with her hands propped on her hips. She glared at the group with her lips pressed together, "Gentlemen, I ask you to show appropriate behaviour or else, I'll have to excuse you all out at once."

The black-haired tower-like man smirked, stepping forward, "What's the appropriate behaviour in this house?" Esmé shrieked when he kicked a chair with a slam. "Is this how you treat guests here? Threatening them to throw them out when they just walked in?"

"A scum like you will never be a guest of mine," Charlotte huffed annoyed. "Did you only come here to cause a tumult? This is not the place to throw around furniture nor is it the place to molest women."

"Hey, Sheba," Another one remarked.

"Don't call me that," Charlotte began to feel irritated. Ellis had turned to observe the group, but Everett still faced them with his back, listening cautiously.

"Calm down, beautiful," He was shorter than the other four men. His reddish-brown hair was dishevelled, and his suit was worn-out. His sleeves sagged as if he had wet them several times. Esmé drew a face at his shabby attire.

"We're here to meet the Walkers."

"What's this?" Charlotte chuckled, shaking her waves, "Why is everyone in this bloody city eager to meet the twins like they're Basil Rathbone or something? Introduce yourselves first, gentlemen." The men erupted in enormous laughter.

"Right, I'm sorry," The short fellow stepped forward with a smirk tugging at the corners of his chapped lips, "My name is Nick Foster."

Esmé's eyes then travelled to Everett who was still with his back to what occurred, but his hand was now around her wrist firmly.

"Wait inside the back room." He muttered through gritted teeth. His eyes seemed to have turned a few shades darker.

Esmé watched him with furrowed brows, "Are you not going to help her?"

"I am," He sighed slowly, his jaw tightly locked. His whole body was tense. Did he know who these men were?

"Ev- Dean," Esmé began again, stopping herself quick enough. It wouldn't be smart to pronounce his name in this chaos.

Then she noticed the intruders getting louder, "Tell them that Thomas Lester sent us. We have a message for Everett Walker. It's about time he crawls out of his corner."

"Go inside. Now." Everett's voice was demanding and this time, Esmé didn't argue. Nodding hesitantly, she stepped back with her heart pounding frantically, manoeuvring around the counter.

"Be careful," It was barely a whisper, but Everett had heard her. His expression was stern, the vein in his neck popped - a vivid purple.

Ellis had stepped forward by now, and it was then Esmé realised that a shambolic dispute had flared. Charlotte rushed to her side behind the counter, the remaining guests hurried out of the pub.

Everett whirled around, pushing himself off his seat with a threatening poise. A shudder travelled down Esmé's back, fearing what was to come.

They were the Camden Boys. And it seemed as if they found out the truth about the Walkers. What this exactly meant for everyone was an alarming mystery to Esmé.

Some men in grey suits had gathered around Ellis and Everett. She recognised them from her engagement ceremony. They all worked for the twins.

The so-called Camden Boys all hollered at once, the hall erupting in a messy clamour. How come the situation escalated so quickly?

"Look, Dean is here, too." Someone shouted. It was in that moment, Everett's fist collided with that stranger's face.

Esmé gasped, feeling startled, her shaky hands covering her mouth.

Charlotte grasped her friend's arm, pulling her to the ground, sparing her from the following sights. They both crouched under the counter table as a chair slammed against the shelves right above their heads.

"It's not smart to standby and watch, even if it seems interesting." Charlotte snickered, pushing a few stray hair strands away from her forehead.

"Why are you taking this so easily?" Esmé's scrutinised her with parted lips. Her heart was hammering in her chest from all the anxiety she was feeling, and Charlotte dared to laugh it off.

"Because they only came here to cause a scene. They tend to do this more often lately." She explained it as if she talked about some casual matter. 

Esmé jumped when the glasses on the shelves fell, shattering in front of them, her head hitting the wooded plate above her head. She hissed in pain, crawling together.

"And what are they trying to achieve with this?" She asked, murmuring as she tried to endure the ache that shot through her skull.

Charlotte studied her worriedly, "They might be looking for something, or they just want to cause a fuss to get the twins into some trouble." She hugged her knees tightly.

"They'll be fine, right?"

"Don't worry. This is nothing new to them." Charlotte cocked her head to the side, watching Esmé with a warm smile. She nodded assuringly.

Esmé muttered with a low voice, "They spoke as if they know Everett's secret."

"They might have found out. I don't kn-"

The deafening sound of a shot echoed, causing everyone to fall into a deadly hush.

Charlotte and Esmé, both jumped frightened. Esmé stared at her friend - who wasn't that calm anymore - with large eyes, her throat suddenly feeling dry. She wanted to get up and make sure that nobody was hurt when-

"Hey, Nick!"

This voice.

"No shooting, my friend." A man spoke up, his voice puncturing through the ominous silence. His tone was familiar, but Esmé couldn't muster who he was.

"We came here to talk only."

"There's nothing to talk about." This was Ellis.

Esmé couldn't comprehend what was going on, the shrilly gunshot still prominent in her ears.

"Mate, of course, there is."

Now it clicked. It was Thomas Lester. Esmé froze on her spot when he continued, "You crossed a line by digging into my past. Now, I'll dig you a grave."

She crawled out from under the corner, her knees on the ground.

"What the bloody fudge, Esmé?" Charlotte hissed, trying to reach for her. But Esmé backed away. She was on her knees with her back against a door that led to one of the back rooms.

Her mind was blank. She didn't even know herself what she was going to do, but her inner alarm was over the roof. She rested her fingertips on top of the counter, "I'm only going to take a gl-"

Someone grasped the fabric of her coat, pulling her backwards. Shrieking, she fell onto her bottom, dragged through the door behind her. A groan passed her gritted teeth. Then the door slammed shut in front of her eyes.

Whirling around and ready to scream at whoever pulled her inside this room, she came face to face with a bewildered-looking- William? 

"He told you to wait here." His calmness agitated her even more.

Esmé jumped up to her feet, hissing, "There was no need for you to grind me on the floor!"

William positioned himself between her and the door like a solid wall, leaving the happenings behind, out of her reach, "Sorry about that, but this time, you better control your curiosity."

"What is going on?" Esmé's chest rose up and down, her breathing unsteady. "They fired a shot." She peered up into the brown eyes that seemed to look through her, his perception focused on hearing what went down behind the closed door.

"It's the Camden Boys."

"I know that," Esmé moaned, rolling her eyes, pushing slightly at his chest.

"They probably found out," William uttered, still not giving her his attention.

"William-"

He didn't seem to hear her, his eyes squinting, concentrating.

"Goddammit, William." She hit his arm impatiently as his eyes widened, now fully looking at her.

"Dean is Everett." He blurted out the most obvious thing, causing Esmé to sigh deeply. He added, "Or they're here to ask for a settlement as in we won't interfere anymore if you give us the boy that wrote the article."

He shrugged, leaning his ear against the door. "It's strangely quiet, don't you think?"

He was right. Especially after the gunshot, Esmé would have guessed a vast fight to break out. She suggested, reaching for the knob, "Let's just see." But William slapped her hand away.

"You know, it's over when they recognise you." She gulped, stepping back. "And it's better if you leave." He mumbled.

Esmé couldn't even register what happened next when William grabbed her shoulders, spun her around, and shoved her to the other side of the empty room.

"Wait-" But he didn't let her argue.

"It's safer for everyone." He declared, his grip on her firm, forcefully leading her out.

Esmé whinged, shifting in his hold but within seconds she found herself outside the pub. Alone in the cold, sombre night. The door shut to her face.

Her heart thumped hard against her ribcage when she sauntered to the bus station. It was past midnight. She hoped to catch the last ride.

But all she wondered was whether her friends would get out of the situation safe and sound - especially whether Everett was safe and sound.

This wasn't how she had anticipated the night to end.

~~~

Leslie let Esmé inside from the door in the back of the kitchen and both tiptoed their way through the darkness. The only source of light was the gas lamp in Leslie's hand, waving a gleam of light in front of them as it swayed in her hold.

"Careful, my Lady," She murmured but too late.

"Argh!" Her one hand flew to her mouth, the other to grasp her toe. She had hit her foot against one of the counters, hissing in pain and fighting the urge to cry audibly. Tears shot to the corners of her eyes as she jumped up and down.

What was it with her and her clumsiness today? Her tetchy condition made everything worse, causing her to act inept. First it was her head, now her f- 

Leslie's wide-eyed stare interrupted her trail of thoughts, her finger in front of her lips, "Hush."

Rolling her eyes, Esmé muttered, "I know, dumbass." She needed a