Bad Blood

Chapter 1


The bus ride was long and bone jarring, sweaty strangers filled the seats with the sun glaring through the windows adding to the stifling heat. It has been hours since there last break and the occupants, be it strangers or couples they all agreed on one thing; the damn yo-yo was grating on everyone's last nerve. Watching the repetitive movements was making the people around the delinquent exasperated and the whirring sound was making everybody fidget in their seats. However no one dared approach the delinquent, those husky blue eyes would focus and pick them apart as soon as they stood up, making them feel vulnerable. When they would reach his seat, they got the impression that he would know every little dirty secret they held and they would excuse themselves and return to their seats, feeling those eyes watching them as they go. So the strangers just put up with the toy, just to get the feeling of those odd eyes off of them.

Feeling the toy return to his fingers, he dropped it once again, knowing everybody was watching the toy. Even though the action calmed him, he would have no problem stopping if someone would just get up and ask him. Sighing, he dropped the toy again, staring out at the fleeting scenery. He couldn't wait to get to Santa Carla, his butt was starting to get both sore and numb. He wanted to take his oversized dark brown leather jacket off, but he wouldn't feel comfortable with all of these people staring, so he pushed the sleeves to his elbows to cool him down some. But with the sleeves pushed up, it did not help with his hair sticking to the back of his neck and the top of his back. His dark gray military hat fortunately blocked the sun from glaring into his eyes, allowing him to watch his surroundings with no problem. Lucky for him his loose juvee shorts made his pale legs nice and cool. His palms were sweaty in his lose fitting fingerless biker gloves, but he has no intention on showing anymore of the scar on his right hand. The scar brought enough attention to him since the gloves had the middle of the top missing, the vertical puffy line was a nuisance and made people stare, even more so than the slim black cross tattoo over his right eye.

A screeching of the buses brakes made him wince and look around, noticing that they were arriving at Santa Carla bus station just now. Grabbing his toy with the tip of his fingers, he slipped it into his shorts pocket, feeling the relief of the others around him. Waiting till he was the last one in his seat, his eyes watched everyone tense as they passed. He was aware that others thought his eyes to be abnormal for a human to have, but he could care less. Once the last passenger passed him, he slipped his backpack on and followed the line a couple of paces back, not wanting to be near the overly sweaty man in front of him. Stepping off, his eyes scanned the empty area blazing with sunlight, immediately spotting the woman waiting patiently for him to arrive. Rolling his eyes, he started to walk towards the woman with curly blonde hair and bright red lipstick. She was short, and the way she fidgeted he could easily tell that she was nervous. Her slim fingers twisted together and her eyes started darting around once she noticed that he was approaching her, guess she didn't know what he looked like. He just wished that she would stop it with that look of fake happiness from his arrival; he knew that she all she wanted to do was leave and he could care less for this woman.

"Vincent I presume?" The short woman had a plain voice that was laced with pleasantness; it sort of reminded him on when one spoke to a dog. "My name is Mrs. Stewart, we spoke on the phone?" Vincent simply nodded and did not bother to offer his hand, it made him uncomfortable touching others. Her white blouse was tucked into her tan knee length skirt, with a matching tan overcoat and the scent of lavender burned his nose.

"Aye, ah remember. Did me stuff make ta trip?" Vincent knew that he startled people when he spoke, no one would expect a deep smooth Irish accent to come out of his mouth. He was aware that his accent made the women flush, and Mrs. Stewart was reacting that way now.

"Oh, yes it did! I am glad that you made it okay as well!" Turning she beckoned him to follow her to her small yellow Honda that was sitting on a curb, her tan heels clicking pavement as she walked. "How was your trip here?" Turning with her towards her car, he knew that she was listening intently.

"Awe nutin' deadly, lots of dossers aroun' 'ere ah noticed." Hopefully this lady knows what his slang meant, he's not up for translating his words at the moment; it's always a pain in the ass for him to do so.

"Well, you'll be glad to find out that there are few 'dossers' here." Hopping into her small Honda she watched Vincent do the same and buckled her seatbelt. As he tossed his bag into the back he was glad that she knew what he was talking about-or just going along with it-it didn't matter as long as he didn't have to explain anything.

Trying to avoid small talk, Vincent looked everywhere around him as a habit of his. He has to evaluate everything and everyone around him to make him feel safer. He's not bias, he would give everybody a chance, and it just let him feel safer in the environment around him. This was how he was able to tell that this woman was a fake, she only slightly cared about him, but she heard about how he is with strangers and was worried, he understood that much. He just wished she would stop talking to him like a damn dog.

"You'll be glad to know that Clover made it okay and she is waiting for you back at the house."

"Aye, ah am glad tat she made it."

Silence consumed them, Vincent daydreaming and Mrs. Stewart thinking that he just needed his space, both were surprised that they reached the small blue house out by the cliffs, surrounded by abundance of trees that formed the woods, unaware of the time passing. Stepping out of the car with the woman and his bag, Vincent noticed that the sun was high in the sky, lighting the orange and red leaves both on the ground and hanging on thin branches. With the sound of leaves crunching, Vincent's eyes glanced down to spot a black figure charging towards him at a rapid pace.

"Clover ah am glad to see ye too!" A smile lit up his face; his hands reached out and started to scratch behind the ears of his Great Dane. She was tall, her head reaching his collar, and pure black with the exception of a white blotch in the shape of a four-leaf clover in the middle of her chest. Her golden eyes were lit up in joy as she barked and licked her master's hand to show she was happy he finally arrived.

"She arrived only a couple of days ago." Coming behind the duo, Mrs. Stewart smiled at the boy's happiness, she did not like that mocking smirk he wore since he stepped off the bus. Seeing the boy nod, Betty led the way to the front door, unlocking it and letting the two in before she followed. The place was the same as the last owners left it, knowing that Vincent like the look and did not bother to change it since it would be in his possession soon. It reminded Betty of a hunter's cabin, with the fur rug lying underneath the brown coffee table and in front of the TV. A white fur blanket graced the back of the dark blue leather couch that puffed out around the buttons that were sewn into it, the matching chair sitting adjacent to the couch. Antlers and picture frames were set upon the hard wood walls and the fireplace until it reached the territory of the kitchen. The white wall paper was plain and the cabinets were the same color as the hard wood of the living room and kitchen floor, a simple chestnut color.

Betty did not even bother with looking into the rest of the house, heeding the warning that Kitty gave about her godson paranoia with strangers. So, with the respect she held for the other woman she would abide by the rule, and she was glad that she did. She remembered looking into those husky blue eyes, seeing underneath the mockery was the ferocious anger. Looking at him now, she knows that the anger is still there, hidden underneath the mockery that he held for the world, it reminded her of those four boys that were always at the boardwalk. Knowing that her stay was not welcomed with this boy she decided to take her leave.

"Well, I must be off to work. I hope that you find everything to your satisfaction. Kitty's number is on the fridge if you need to call her." Seeing those eyes on her once again she tried not to flinch when that mocking smirk was directed towards her. "I work at the small book store along the boardwalk, so if you need anything you can find me there."

"Tank ye fer drivin' me 'ere Mrs. Stewart, ah very much appreciate it." Knowing that the woman was uncomfortable around him, he let her leave, remembering to use his manners at the last second before something else blurted out.

Hearing her heels click along the hardwood floors, followed by the door closing softly, he let out a deep sigh. Looking over at Clover and seeing her head cock to the side, he reach up and softly pat behind her ear.

"Guess ah should call Kitty huh?" Getting a bark as a reply Vincent sauntered to the kitchen, remembering how it looked from old memories and was glad to find that it did not change one bit, with the exception of the pile of movies on the dining table. Raising a brow, Vincent retrieved the phone off of its cradle and located the phone number he needed. Taking a deep breath to ready himself for the onslaught of exultation from the woman, Vincent took his seat on the wooden chairs and stared at the movies. It was not normal for Kitty to forget to return anything, so this small thing confused him greatly. Shrugging it off, he started to count how many rings went by; he could always ask the woman.


This is the first chapter, I know not exciting but it will be I swear!

-CxL