Julius and I ran into the amphitheater. The last few minutes had been a blur to me. Meeting in the old church, Ultor S.W.A.T. teams, and a lot of shooting. If we didn't drive my Zeneth out of there, we wouldn't have made it but the car was abandoned a few blocks down. It took a few too many bullets and was on the verge of exploding. I was ok but Julius was panting. I guess after a few years of being Ultor's bitch running this much would take a while to get used to.
"Just like old times, Playa," he said suddenly.
His casual tone set me off. He was acting like we were still friends! After he betrayed me, after he tried to kill me. "Yeah." I spun around and shot him.
Julius staggered as the bullet punched into his chest, then stumbled and fell. He stared down at the ragged hole, lifting one hand to touch it as if he couldn't believe it was real. He didn't expect me to shoot him but then again, I wouldn't expect me to shoot me if I was him. Not yet anyway. "Jesus," he breathed, glaring up at me, "I thought we were past this shit."
"Not by a fucking long shot," I snarled, advancing on him with my gun still raised It took all of my will power to not gun him down right there. I wanted to savor this. 5 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days. That is how much of my life he stole from me. For that I intended to take the rest of his.
He drug himself backwards as I approached, shaking his head in exasperation. "Don't you get it? The Saints didn't solve a goddamn thing. Drugs were still getting pushed, innocent people were still getting killed…" His back hit the base of a pillar and he leaned against it, one hand still covering the bullet wound, the blood seeping between his fingers. "All we did was turn into Vice Kings that wore purple."
I stared at him. "Jesus Christ," I yelled, "you sound like a pussy." I kept the gun pointed at his head but in some part of me, I agreed with him. I know he was right but I have waited too long to back out now.
"I sound like someone who isn't a sociopath!"
"You wanna be the killer with a conscience?" I yelled, once again resisting the urge to shoot him. He didn't have a problem with me being a "sociopath" when I was cleaning out Saints Row, when I killed Joesph Sharp, when I shot a fucking PLANE down! And that was just the stuff off the top of my head. And it was all for him. "Fine! Drop your flags and write a book like King. But you never shoulda came after me!"
"You sayin' if I'd of asked you to walk away, you would have said yes?"
"Fuck no! This is my city!" I shouted. I wouldn't walk away because I couldn't. Even if I dropped my flags right now, Ultor and the police would want me dead because of what I have already done. And even if that wasn't an issue, I couldn't get a job. I am too well known and no one wants to hire a criminal so I would HAVE to turn to crime in order make money.
Julius gave a disappointed grunt. "Jesus. You haven't learned a goddamn thing."
"Wrong." I faced him again, pointing the gun at his head. "I've learned bein' in charge is better than bein' a bitch who keeps his mouth shut and does what he's told." I shook my head, my tone turning cold. "Your time's over, old man."
He gave me a strange look a look of acceptance. As if he knew that no matter what he said, he was going to die tonight and he had just stopped fighting it. "What's happened to you?" he finally asked.
"I woke up," I said, shrugging. Literally and figuratively.
"You owe me, Playa," Julius said lowly, all business now. "If it weren't for me, you would have died on that street corner."
"If it weren't for you I wouldn't have been in a goddamn coma!" I shouted.
"I guess that makes us even," Julius said, looking me right in the eye, daring me.
I lowered the gun. Julius looked as surprised as I was but you would never see it because of my bandanna. If it wasn't for Julius, I would be dead. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have a purpose in life. I had always hated the gangs. Los Carnales, the Vice Kings, and the Rollerz, They were all the same. I saw that they were choking the life out of the city. People were getting killed every day for stupid "turf". That is why I joined the Saints in the first place. My parents, the only family that gave a shit about me were killed by the Carnales when I was 16 just 2 years before I joined the Saints. I wanted to make sure that it didn't happen to anyone else but I didn't know how. I don't know how it began but eventually, protecting others took a backseat to making money. I had become the very thing that I had fought against.
"Yeah, I guess it does. Ain't that a bitch?"
I dropped the Vice 9 and walked away. I starting walking all the way back to my house in the Red Light district. I heard Julius take my Zeneth , probably to drive to the hospital but I didn't care. He could keep it. While walking, I thought about what he said. About the Saints becoming Vice Kings that wore purple. On my way some, I saw people on the streets. People that needed the loa dust that I supplied to get by. I saw people dead in the street, people that the Saints had killed. At this rate, nothing would change. Lives would still be ruined and people would still get killed. I pulled out my cell phone and called Johnny. When he picked up I could hear police sirens. "Don't worry boss, it's just a movie." Johnny said immediately sensing my concern. "I just needed to blow off some steam. You need something?"
"Yeah" I said "I wanna talk about our operation. Could you meet me at my place in an hour?" "Sure Boss." Johnny sounded concerned "You feeling ok?" I hung up the phone. There was really no answer I could give that would convince Johnny that I was still sane. I knew that Johnny would definitely think I was crazy for what I was going to tell him. I couldn't go on living like this. I knew that breaking up the Saints wasn't going to go smoothly. There would be people who would try to stop that from happening. I knew that I couldn't walk away from my life but I could at least try to set things right.
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