“We can’t trust you, missy … maybe we have to make you fear us some more.” The guy has his other hand on her tit as she tries to fight them off. I’m rushing toward her, shoving the others away as they all gang up on her, probably intending to do much, much worse.
“Touch her and you die!” I scream when I reach the dude who’s holding her captive.
“Too late, dude. I’m having a piece of this ass now. You had your chance; now it’s our turn.”
She screams as I punch the guy in the face. He lets her go, which makes her stumble onto the ground.
“Run!” I yell, fighting him with bare hands.
Her feet take her away, but when she’s almost near the end of the alley, she stops and looks back.
“Don’t look, just go!” I scream, punching the guy in the gut.
The others now jump on me, too, and it’s become a fight like no other. I’m facing at least six guys who all want a piece of me because I stole their prize.
“I was going to fuck her, but now I’ll fuck you up instead,” one of them growls.
“Take your best shot,” I say, kicking one in the balls.
“Miles!” Vanessa yells, still looking at me from afar.
Why is she not running? What is she waiting for?
“Miles, stop!” she yells.
For a moment, I’m baffled that she even cares. After what they tried to do to her, she still doesn’t want me to beat the living shit out of them. I don’t understand. It’s like this little girl I remember from a long time ago still telling me not to hurt someone because there are other ways to deal with this shit … except this little girl is all grown up and her choices now don’t make any sense compared to how she used to be.
The sudden distraction gives them a chance to hit me in the face so hard that I’m knocked to the ground.
“Miles! Get up!” Her scream goes through marrow and bone, but somehow it gives me the energy I need to get up and fight again.
I scramble to my feet and knock the next guy out cold with one blow to the temple.
Then I turn toward Vanessa and scream, “Get out of here!”
Her eyes fill with fear, and she shakes her head. Then she says, “Not without you.”
I frown, confused. Does she really still care about me? Why else would she say something like that and refuse to leave? I don’t understand her.
I hate her for what she did, but I don’t want her to get hurt either. Deep down in my heart I know she won’t leave. She won’t abandon me because she never has. It’s her way of fighting. The only way she knows, apart from lying.
But I have to do what I have to do to keep her safe.
“Get the fuck away from here before I fucking punch you, too!” I scream as loud as I can.
This makes her stumble backward, turn around, and run like hell … as she should because I’m always bad news.
With four guys left, I’m trying to fight them off, but the more they hit me, the more strength I lose, and soon I’m gasping for air, throwing punches out wherever I can in order to survive. I know I won’t get away with this easily. They’re tough guys, ones who take it serious when you pick a fight. Like now, one of them pulls a knife on me and tries to stab me in the stomach.
“You want a piece of this, huh?” he yells, slicing through the air.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” I scream.
“Can’t handle that I touched your girl, huh?”
“She’s not my girl, but she’s not yours, either,” I growl, sidestepping his attacks.
Another one jumps on my back, and I spin around on my feet to throw him off.
Suddenly, I hear car tires screeching behind me, and we all look up to see what’s going on. A car races toward the alley, and for a second, I think it’s going to ram straight into it, but then it makes a sharp turn.
Avoiding punches, I look up to see the driver’s window rolling down. Someone yells, “Get down!”
I do what he says.
Loud shots fly around, bullets cascading off the walls and ground. My body shakes as I expect them to hit me too, but they don’t. Instead, all the other guys drop to the ground like flies.
When the bullets stop raining down on us, I look up and see a guy with shades and a silencer gun staring me down.
“You okay?” he asks.
He’s not much older than me, but damn, that X-shaped scar on his face makes me hesitant to even get off the ground.
“Hello? Am I talking to the wall?” he growls.
“No, I’m okay,” I say.
“Great.” He puts his gun down.
“Who are you?” I ask as I get up from the ground all beaten and bruised.
“C’mere and I’ll tell you.” He cocks his head, and I feel like this is some sort of dare.
I don’t have to think twice about this. The guy shot my attackers, my supposed friends, and now I have nothing left except a couple of dead people surrounding me, while I’m the only one alive. This is bound to raise some questions.
However, I’m more interested in that guy with the scar.
“Did you kill them all?”
“Yeah, except you, obviously,” he muses.
“Thanks, I guess. Why, actually?”
“They were beating you up, weren’t they?”
“Yeah …”
“And now they’re not.” There’s a slight smile on his face. Fuck, I already like this guy.
I walk closer and hold out my hand as he peers out the window. “Miles.”
“Name’s X.”
“What X?” I laugh. “As in just X?”
“Just X, but sometimes people call me Mr. X. Whatever you want.”
“Cool.” I nod, almost unable to believe what I’m witnessing. Some guy in a tux just shot down all my friends, and I’m not even mad. This is amazing.
“You were fighting them alone, weren’t you?” he says.
“Yeah, they tried to hurt …” I shut myself up before I say too much.
“I don’t need to know why; I just want to know if you were alone.”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm …” He moves his head, and even with his shades, I can tell he’s checking me out. But for what purpose?
“You seem fit. Great strength. Where did you learn to fight like that?” he asks.
“Uh … I don’t know. Self-taught, I guess.”
“Interesting …” He nods as if I’m some sort of science project. I wonder what the fuck he wants from me.
“So, uh, now that you shot my friends, I really don’t know what the fuck to do with this. They’re dead. I don’t want to get pinned down for murder. Any advice?”
He smiles and rubs his hand over his bald head. “You’re a smart kid. I like your attitude. Well, for starters, they were a bunch of druggies anyway. Not worth the space they used on this earth.”
“Okay …” I frown, not sure where he’s going with this.
“Second, were they your only friends?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Do you have any family? Relatives?”
“Only my foster parents. Why do you ask?”
“Perfect.”
He turns and presses a button. The door of his car unlocks. “Get in.”
“What?” I say, muffling a laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I don’t do jokes. Get in the car.”
“Why? I don’t know you, dude.”
“Doesn’t matter. Do you want to live a good life or die in jail?”
“Like the answer to that isn’t obvious.”
“Then get in the fucking car,” he says, tapping his fingers on the side of his car.
“No, not until you tell me why.”
“Listen up, dude,” he says, leaning out of his car to grab my shirt. “I don’t have time for bullshit. I just killed the only people you’re involved with, which means the cops will either go after you, or no one, if you come with me. You wanna stay a druggie? Fine, but do it in jail.”
“I’m not a druggie, and I don’t want to be,” I say.
He sighs. “You wanna make money?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna do whatever the fuck you want?”
“Of course!”
“Then get in the fucking car.” He cocks his head. “Make yourself useful.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you telling me that I can go with you, as in, become part of whatever it is that you’re doing?”