The Woman Who Ran Away – Law/OC


Years ago, a man and women fell in love on a chilly island, far away from anywhere significant. But the remoteness suited them, particularly the women, for it seemed a world away from her worries…

“The past is the past and no one but us matters” The man would exclaim before cocooning the woman in his embrace. At this, the woman would fall silent and mutely nod her head; her heart agreed but her mind did not.

Years went by and the woman tearfully accepted a gold band; the man swept her into his arms and cried joyful tears into her shoulder. A year or two later, the woman grew round and grumpy; the man smiled regardless.  A few months after that, the woman screamed and a baby cried; the man loved second being.

However, while the man continued to whisper the same words in her ear, she never came any closer to agreeing. She was lost in indecision but smiled nonetheless.

Until one day.

The woman was coming back from the market with a heavy basket and a careless grin; she strolled up to the house and opened the door, prepared to cook her recently acquired food. But then she froze and her world shook

“Mama” Cried the baby; welcoming back her mother

That was the baby’s first word and it was all it took to ruin the woman’s world. The baby was a person, a life independent of her own but wholly reliant on her and would be for the remainder of the woman’s young life.

The thought scared the woman more than anything in the world and the basket along with everything it represented went tumbling from her hands.

The next day, the man went down to the village to ask if they knew where the woman was. He was told that she’d come down in a rush and made off with one of the fishing boats; sailing off into the distance with a pained expression on her face.

That was the last the man heard of the woman who’d become his life.

Chapter 1

On the furniture, on the walls, on the tables, sex infused everything. The atmosphere alone could knock the virtuous off their feet…but then again, that was kind of the point. As Tavaka Remy slithered down the pole, she breathed it in deeply and let the fog consume her.

Risqué but expensive, two words that personified the club; the girls would do anything…provided your wallet was heavy enough. Tavvy or ‘Tavvy the Wildcat’ was well aware that her job had its nastier elements and that most people would describe it as degrading, debasing, dehumanising and lots of other ‘de’ words to that effect but frankly she just didn’t see a reason to stop

Under the glare of the stage light she just couldn’t bring herself to care about the words; she had the curves and the confidence to make a whole lot of money with not a great deal of effort, who had the right to tell her it was wrong?

The familiar ending note of the last song of her set sounded and Tavvy righted herself on the stage, with a dainty wave and a lingering wink she strutted of the stage to a chorus of wolf-whistles.

Tavvy had most defiantly not started out with dreams of parading around on stage in little more than a bikini. Originally she’d been a girl with a hope and a dream but no particular way to realise it. She’d wanted the world to know her name whether for fear or admiration. She’d wanted to waltz into a room and be met nothing but awed silence. She’d wanted a life that was in every way her own.

3 years later and a 19 year-old Tavaka Remmy had started being realistic.

She hadn’t given up her dream; no way in hell was a life of stripping and seedy invitations on her to-do list but she now knew that a hope and a will sometimes just wasn’t enough. Tavvy realised she needed two things to make her dream a reality: Money and a method.

The former was relatively easy to come by as pretty girls in high-end ‘gentlemen’s’ clubs were worth their weight in gold. What Tavvy was having issue with was finding some way of making herself known to the world in an age of revolutionaries and pirates that can level whole islands with nothing but their fists.

While becoming a pirate seemed like the obvious option she knew that any marine with the will and a gun could subdue her within minutes. Tavvy had thought about the other obvious option of becoming a marine but she dismissed it quickly for it was even worse; not only did you face danger from ridiculously powerful enemies but you had to follow god-damn orders every waking moment to boot.

“Tavvy! Enough primping, get your money-making arse out here” Shouted a voice jarring her violently from her thoughts, Madam Roulette was a surprisingly pleasant for her profession but she had a wrath that could reduce the hardest of men into kittens.

‘The Wildcat’ moved away from her back-stage vanity and followed her bosses voice to the door the area just off-stage; the club was light enough to see the crowd but the area dark enough not to be seen peering from the corner of the stage curtain.

“There you are girl!” Cried the woman giving Tavvy a brief hug; Madam Roulette was woman as friendly and she was large and Tavvy felt obliged to hug the dark-skinned woman back

“See those men over there, to the left of the crowd?” Asked Madam Roulette as she gestured to the crowd

“What the ones in the white jumpsuits? They’re kinda hard to miss” Replied the stripper before casting an uneasy glance at her boss; she knew how to handle perverts but jumpsuit wearing perverts…not so much…

“One of them ‘as been asking round for a private dance for their Captain, ‘parently their some Big-Shot Rookies, you up for it?”

Tavvy did some quick calculations in her head working out how much she could make from the venture and in all honesty it didn’t seem too bad. She was only girl in the club willing to take on the bigger pirates and perhaps for good reason; they rarely got they reputations for being nice

“Alright, but why is it I always get the weirdos?” The Madam just shrugged apologetically and ushered her out the stage door

Tavvy pulled in a deep breath and strutted over to the group ignoring the appreciative glances she drew along the way and dodging the more adventurous hands. When she reached the out-of-place looking group of men in jumpsuits seems to heatedly arguing over something

“-never agree to this it stu-“

“-he’s been so on edge lately it’s a pain in the-“

“-and you think this will help?”

“Excuse me boys but may I interrupt?” She spoke, or more aptly, purred to the group.

The sight of her shut them up so quickly she doubted they’d been to a great many clubs before. Seeing as they didn’t look like they were going to reply she prompted them

“I heard one of you boys in looking for a more private show” For a second all eyes collectively went to picturing many meanings of the word private in their heads. Eventually one of the men spoke:

“Umm…well…yes?” He said it like a question and she found herself grinning; boy was he uncomfortable

“Who’s the lucky guy?” She scanned the group suggestively through sooty mascara-clad lashes

There was a collective gulp but none said a thing…maybe they wanted her for the whole group? Wouldn’t be the first time, though she really did dislike groups, the customers constantly tried to one-up each other and she normally ended handed round like a piece of meat.

“Or perhaps you’re a crew that likes to share?” She pushed back her distastes and made it sound like she loved the idea


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