Love within Ashes

Chapter 18: Mr. Gray Sky

"He didn't deserve that. No way he deserved that. He was a fucking true soldier. To Joe! He was a good fucking boy, a good fucking boy!" Bodie cheered with his beer raised up. The others had their beers in some type of sad celebration, like honoring Joe's death.

That was just fucking it! I just came to my fucking bar, and see my boys doing this hideous scene. If it wasn't for the hospital's fucking prick, I would beat the shit out of Bodie. I took Bodie's beer from his raised hand and smashed it into the table.

"So, that's what we're going to do?" I said as I grabbed the fucking beer and spilled it to the floor, "Why don't you show a little fucking respect, at least? See, that is why you guys are nothing. That's is why you are a bunch of fucking punks because you would rather drink up and toke yourselves fucking witless. Witless and scared shitless!"

I sniffed my ardent anger and continued, "No. My bad. Let's—Here, cheers."

I said with a pretended sympathy, raising a shot of tequila up, while they sat there with shit in their pants.

"GET YOUR FUCKING GLASSES UP! ALL OF YOU!" I was fucking pissed and that made me threw the goddamn glass to the wall.

In frustration, I rubbed my neck and jaw, trying to control my rage.

"Joe wasn't made for the shit. That's all. He wasn't like us," Bodie said trying to calm me down.

"No, isn't like you, you mean. He is not like you! He's better than you! And don't fucking talk about him like he was dead!" I argued with him as he gave me an affronted look.

"We good as brother since we was kids, and you fucking go this way! What, I'm not as good as you now? Joe is like blood to me, dawg. As good as fucking blood, you too!" he said with such a passion that made his eyes glow.

Bodie was the one who knew me very well, he was right, we know each other since kids and he has been my companion through all this years. I slightly twitched my neck, because he was fucking right, and that made me swallow my wrath. Gratefully, Bodie calmed me down with those words, cause' if he would said, "Billy, calm down, dawg", or shit like that, I would chew his head off.
I made a gesture to Tommy, so he scoot to his left, allowing me my sit. I sat down and placed my elbows on top of the table, putting my fists together.

"Well... I would like to catch the motherfucker that did this," I said adding to the table a plan to execute.

"Oh, we will!" agreed Tommy who was next to me.

"Ain't no motherfucking doubt," approved Bodie who was in front.

"Do the right fucking thing by Joe, yeah?" added Spink with his fist in his chest, showing commitment.

After seeing their agreement to discover the son of a bitch that attacked Joey, I lighted my cigarette with a bar red candle.

"So, who fucking did it?" I asked looking at their eyeballs.

"It wasn't the Cutty Macks, man. I would know about it," Heco affirmed.

"Unless you were high," I held at the toking sandbagging ass.

“I’m not high," he alleged as he tapped his arm, “But, they know about what happened to Dog, man.”

“So what?” I roared at his unsuitable comment.

“Man, I would try to see if they try to do some shit now," he assured.

“Good, do that. Although, I doubt they try to get out of their corners," I skeptically said as I exhaled the venomous smoke.

“It wasn’t B street, Billy. Wasn’t the Hall. Wasn’t any of those assholes!” Tommy dragged us back to our principal focus.

“Yo, my sister said she saw some fucker in a suit down there, just chilling and leaving in a stuck-up ass car," Baggy informed us.

That Baggy was the only one who finally said something with fucking sense. I stood up heading to where the drinks are served and picked up the newspaper.

“How many fuckers in a suit you ever see at Stokely-fucking-Hall? See, here’s a comical thing. When one of us gets killed, we don’t make the paper. But the son of a Senior V.P. of Starfish Capital... Whoo-wee!” I uttered with the cigarette between my lips.

I showed the boys, especially Bodie, the news entitled, “Green-Belt Father and Son Attacked in a Rockside-Son Slain”. Then, I gave Baggy the newspaper, and commanded, “Go talk to your sister.”

Baggy did as I ordered and grabbed his sister’s hand , showing her the paper with the photos of Nicholas Hume, and Brandon or Brendan Hume. I don’t fucking know. We waited to see if that bitch would recognize him. And just when I was narrowing my eyes at her, she nodded. She recognized the bastard and we got ourselves a fucking piñata that’s need to be broken, cause’ I want some candy, sweet fucking candy of revenge. No one messes with Joey, with me. And this fucker did without knowing what he got himself into.

We took our jackets and exited the bar. We were going to visit Joe in the hospital, and to find that motherfucker, so he will feel what a fucking real revenge is. Just when we got out of the bar’s door I turn my back and see Bones driving in his crib. He drives to the nearest corner and parks his car right there. We all made our way to meet him because if he leaves his shitless shop it means that he’s fucking pissed.

“What the fuck are we all doing here?” he yelled as he tried to get his fat ass out of his car, “Maybe some of this is going to tell me when you girls are planning to put a few minutes in on the perfectly good corner I gave you.”

He walked to us, confronting us and preparing himself to spit shit..

“Ah? And now, I get to read about gang wars, dead pieces of shit, because somebody had to kill a rich little faggot. Way to make the fucking papers!” he barked while he hit me in the chest with the newspaper. I just twitched my neck and pressed my lips to control me.

Then he continued, hitting Bodie and barking, “I don’t fucking need help like this!”

“Listen to me, listen to me, listen to me, when you work for me, you fucking work for me. You don’t in and out in you fucking half ass. You fucking pay me!” he continued barking as my authoritative feelings started to slid through my bones and I repositioned my shoulders with a clenched jaw.

“I say when you’re done. And when I say that, one of you leaves the little shithole you live in, after a morning on pretty day and you wake up bleeding to death in the trunk of my car," he puked as my jaw clenched harder and my fists constricted.

“Ok? Cause when you’re with me, I’m your life and your fucking death. I’m a fucking world on a cracker!” the greasy fatass said when he paused chewing his tobacco gum.

“So, which one of you boys is gonna bleed to death in my trunk, eh?” he took a couple of steps closer to me, and I could smell the sickening tobacco stench mixed with the beer.

Then, looking at me in the eyes he continued, “Will it be you, Billy boy? Gang lord.”

His breath was repulsive. But when he paused he glanced at my chest and spat the tobacco wad.

I stared at what he did and clenched even harder my jaw, while I raised my eyes to face him.

“Huh?”, he uttered as he walked a few steps backwards. I compressed my lips to contain what I was about to bark to him, “Dog that barks, dog that doesn’t bite," but I stood there, in silence.

I narrowed my eyes and gave him such a glower that even his mother will wallow in her grave but he avoided my glare and looked at the faces of my boys.

“Whatever you little fucks think is important, ain’t important. So, stop it! Stop it, right now! Be good boys!” he warned us.

Then he grabbed the back of my head and leaned to kiss my forehead, in a gesture he always do after cursing or beating the shit out of me.

“Buckle down for me," he ordered to me while he made his way to his car.

“Joe’s in the hospital," I interrupted his pace and with my fingertips I quickly tapped my forehead, “ if you’re interested.”

Joe was his youngest, and he had to know what has happened to him, well, if he wants.

He turned and said, “Well, he isn’t a lucky one, isn’t he?”

I could feel Bodie’s jaw dropping to the floor because of that comment.
Some men are born to be fathers, and others aren’t. Bones wasn’t one, but he made us. That fucking bastard could treat me as worst as his enemy. And you know what his reason was? To make me stronger, powerful, invincible. Maybe he was the worst fucker in this world, but he was my goddamn father, and because of him, I am what I am. Because of him, I was born with a Mamba Parabellum automatic pistol in my hands and I’ll fucking have it in my hands until the day I die. He made me a bad company, and I chose to be one as well.

He isn’t a lucky one, he isn’t a lucky one? Is that what that lazy bastard said? Damn wrong he is. Joe is the lucky one, he was so lucky that part of his life he didn’t have fucking Bones sniffing on his shoulders. I don’t know who the hell is my mother, maybe some whore, I don’t give a fuck anymore, but Joe’s was a good woman, before she died. Her name was Esther, and she was like a mother to me, she will always be. She was the only one who could tolerate Bones, and thanks to her, we ate and we got to school. Because if it was for Bones, he will let us live in a shithole and didn’t even give a damn. Because we are no damn doing of his. She died when I was 14, Joe was 9, I don’t know why she died, but when she did, hell was unleashed. Bones was drunk all the time and with whores in the house. We had to escape to Bodie’s, sometimes we could stay in his place for like one week or more. The streets were my home, and they will always be my home. They made me stronger, made me potently dominant, they were the ones that allowed me to overrule them. They are the silence that I can clearly listen. I was born to be in this shit, and not even love neither friendships are going to change my mind. Now, we are going to find that motherfucker who made Joe a cripple. We will kill him, and make him pay at all cost.