Note: The title comes from a line in the Silversun Pickups song 'The Royal We'. It just seemed to fit the story, and the vibe I get from Lachance.
'Watches, yo, I got watches here. Hey girl, you wanna buy yo' man somethin' special? Watches, yo.'
It was night-time on the Row, when every fucker would be trying to get their hands on your money, one way or another. The Row was once the most sought-after residential area of the city of Stilwater. However, decades of social deprivation and gang violence had turned it into the run-down, bullet-ridden 'hood it was today. Lachance waved away the guy selling genuinely fake Rolex and headed towards the scantily-clad woman who stood watching the road.
'Hey baby,' she purred, turning as Lachance approached. 'I could show you- oh, hey boss.'
'Shit, don't call me that, Delisa. How's it goin'?'
When Delisa laughed, her dark brown eyes sparkled. 'Sugar, I just say that to watch you squirm. Business has been real quiet though. Probably 'cause of those assholes,' she said, and nodded in the direction of three young guys busily spray-painting a wall further up the street. All three were wearing gang colours. Yellow. Shit. That meant Vice Kings. As the name implied, they made a lot of their paper selling pussy. Lachance knew that running even one girl in a district of Stilwater the Kings considered their turf was enough to get her shot. And she had two.
'Hey, maybe just call it a night, alright?' Lachance said, watching them warily.
'This ain't their street, sugar. I'm fine right here.'
'If those motherfuckers are tagging it, it's their street. C'mon, I'll walk you home.'
Her girl made a big show of pouting her beautiful full lips before reluctantly taking the arm Lachance offered. Delisa leaned against her shoulder as they set off, away from the Vice Kings. 'I'm so lucky to have a pimp like you, honey,' she sighed.
Lachance laughed. 'Shit, don't call me your pimp neither. I prefer the term 'madam'. What the fuck-'
Sounds of a fight behind them made her reach for the gun she kept tucked into the back of her jeans, hidden by her baggy grey t-shirt. As she turned, Lachance could see that the Vice Kings had been surrounded by a bunch of guys wearing blue, and were proceeding to beat the shit out of each other.
The girls pressed against the wall as one of the guys in blue staggered past them, pressing his hands over the blood that poured from his belly. Lachance took hold of Delisa's arm to get her attention as a red car pulled up to the ones still fighting. Red meant the Carnales. She had to get Delisa out of here before the bullets started flying. 'Quick, take those fuckin' shoes off, we're gonna have to run,' she said, eyeing the five inch platforms her girl was tottering around on.
The gun felt heavy in her hand as she kept it close to her side, heart racing as Delisa fumbled with the ankle straps of her shoes. Lachance felt the overwhelming urge to laugh as she cursed how slowly the whore was getting undressed.
Gunshots made Delisa scream as she kicked away her shoes, and she held her hands over her head. Lachance grabbed her by the elbow and together they hunched over and ran across the road, heading towards an alleyway that led through to the next block. The rising roar of a car engine over the noise of automatic weapons' fire caused Lachance to risk a look down the street.
'Just run,' was all she managed to shout as she pushed Delisa out of the way.
Lachance was flipped like a doll as the car's front bumper clipped the back of her leg, and the ground raced up to smack her as she spun. A sickening pain crunched through her knee joint, and the gun flew from her hand as she rolled. When she finally stopped, she found herself staring up at a streetlight. She tried to sit up, but cried out at the pain that ripped through her side and knee as she fell back down.
The rattle of gunfire murderously close made Lachance force herself to sit up again, biting her lip against the agony of even that simple movement. She found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. She looked up into the calm brown eyes of a Vice King as he shrugged.
'Wrong time, wrong place, bitch,' he said, so she would know it was nothing personal.
There was a single pistol shot.
x.x.x
'You okay playa?'
Lachance opened her eyes. 'Am I dead?' she groaned. 'Though, I kinda pictured you different, man.'
Tall, black, middle-aged, the man who had called her 'playa' reached out his hand. He smiled. 'And who do you think I am, kid? God?'
'Fuck no, the other guy,' she said. 'Shit, ah-' Lachance bit back a yell as he helped her to stand. She put her arm around his shoulders and leaned heavily. He was built pretty solid for an old man.
'Julius, let's move,' said the man with him.
The Carnales' car that had hit her was now smoking ominously against the wall it had crashed into, and it was uncomfortably close. Lachance limped away with Julius supporting her. Dead gang members lay sprawled on the road and sidewalk, the pools of their blood appearing black in the streetlight. She ducked her head and swore as the car behind exploded and blast of searing hot air rocked the three.
Julius lowered her down so she could sit with her back against the wall of an abandoned store. There was only concern in his dark eyes, but as he reached out his hands to her knee, Lachance shifted away.
'Yo, it's cool, man. I'm fine,' she said.
Julius frowned and backed away, holding his hands out. 'You should get that looked at. That's Troy, you can thank him later,' he said, indicating the other guy. Troy nodded and she noticed the gun in his hand. He must have shot the Vice King who was going to kill her. He was white, maybe Irish, and looked to be in his mid-thirties. Short brown hair and a neat goatee, he was kinda cute for an older guy.
'Hey, thanks. I owe you,' she said. He shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette as Julius spoke.
'The Row ain't safe no more, kid. We got gangs fighting over shit that ain't theirs. And if you get in the way, they don't care if you representin' or not,' he said.
'Julius, this is no time to recruit,' snapped Troy. Sirens in the distance were making him twitchy.
'We need all the help we can get, son,' Julius said.
'Her? She's just a girl. We need to get our asses outta here,' Troy said. He sighed in frustration as Julius ignored him. Lachance resisted throwing him a dirty look, he had just saved her life.
'In a minute. Now, I saw what you did, how you helped your friend escape. You got spirit, kid. Look, the Row's got a problem. Come to the church when you wanna be part of the solution.' As the sirens got closer, he stood and they walked away.
Lachance watched them go before pulling herself up. She tested her weight on her busted knee but the grinding pain made her want to throw up. Kneecaps should never be sat halfway up your thigh. She sat back down miserably and took out her phone. She was pretty sure a couple of ribs were broken too.
Before she could dial, a small voice called to her from the dark alley. 'Hey, sugar, you okay?'
'I thought I told you to run?' Lachance said, as Delisa made her way over to her.
'I did, then I came back for you,' she said, helping her up. 'And my shoes.'
x.x.x
'The Saints? Shit, man,' Lachance said with a laugh. She passed a beer to Vinnie.
'Hey, s'what I heard. The Third Street Saints. That Julius wants to wipe the other gangs outta the Row. He's givin' a speech or some shit in an hour.'
It had been two months since Lachance had nearly died on that corner. Her ribs had healed and her dislocated kneecap had been reset, and even though it still ached on a morning, she felt nearly back to normal. And shit, most of her ached on a morning, depending on who she had spent the night with.
'I might go join up. Fuck knows it's getting more dangerous for my girls to turn tricks.' Lachance twisted the cap from her beer and sat down on the couch next to Vinnie. She used the heel of her boot to clear some of the shit off her coffee table so he could lay out her order. With deft hands, he cut up three fat lines of coke from the small bag he had brought and passed her a rolled dollar bill. She leaned forwards and snorted one, then sat back and took a swig of her beer.
'Shouldn't drink on this stuff, man,' Vinnie said.
'Jesus, Vin. I never knew you gave a shit. Or is it just my repeat business you're worried about, bitch?' she asked, rubbing her hand over the short black stubble of his shaved head. He shook off her hand and told her to go fuck herself. She did another line then stood and moved over to the window. Her view mainly comprised of the rear of a stripclub, where some guy was getting blown by the bins. Well, it was midday.
She rubbed her nose and felt her heart rate start to pick up. She sniffed. 'Fuck it, man. I'm going down to that church. How much do I owe you?' she asked, grabbing a handful of crumpled notes from the ass pocket of her tight grey jeans. Delisa and Kaja had delivered her cut of their money last night.
'The usual. But I'm gonna have to start puttin' my prices up if the Carnales keep killin' my suppliers.'
'Shit, my heart fuckin' bleeds for you, dude. Here,' she said, passing him the money. When he left, Lachance sat down took the last line that had been laid out, foot tapping on the floor. She looked through her bedroom doorway at Kaja still laid out on the bed, suicide blonde hair in a pretty mess around her head. Lachance gently shook her shoulder and smiled as large blue eyes lined with smudged black khol blinked up at her.
'Hey beautiful. You gonna get up? My money ain't gonna earn itself, bitch,' she said, not unkindly.
'Yes, yes. You are slave driver. I go, I go,' muttered Kaja, smiling.
Lachance grabbed her leather jacket from the corner it had been thrown in last night. She picked up a switchblade from the coffee table before pulling the apartment door shut behind her.
x.x.x
The church in Mission Beach had once been beautiful. But, like the rest of the Row, it now looked like shit. Spray-paint graffiti covered every surface of the old building, and the stained-glass windows were boarded up. Empty liquor bottles littered the churchyard, and Lachance kicked one as she walked up to the crowd of purple-clad men gathered by the front steps. She rubbed her nose as she stood towards the back.
Julius surveyed the crowd from the top of the steps. The guy called Troy was watching from his left.
'Every motherfucka here knows what we need to do. Those bitches be ridin' around, thinkin' they own these streets. I don't care what flags they're flyin', Rollerz, Carnales, Vice Kings⦠no-one's making this nigga scared to walk the Row. We 'bout to lock this shit down. Right now.' Cheers met his words as Julius gave his rallying cry.
'Fuck yeah,' yelled a tall Asian guy. He glanced at Lachance. 'Hey, sweet thing. You lost?' he asked, his voice a deep purr. Some of the other Saints started to look her up and down. Some fucker whistled. Her hand moved to the pocket that held her switchblade.
Julius caught her eye over the top of the crowd. He nodded. 'Hey, playa. It's been a while. Didn't think we'd see you down here.' To the tall guy he added, 'Troy and I found her. I was gonna see if she would ride with us.'
'Yo, she can ride with me,' a voice laughed to her right.
'Shut the fuck up, Kowalski,' Troy said.
The tall guy gave her a long look. The tips of his spiky black hair had been bleached out white, and she saw herself reflected in his sunglasses. A nasty little smile curled one side of his mouth and he turned back to the steps. 'Julius, if this girl wants to run with the Saints, she's gotta be canonised,' he said. There were low harsh chuckles and jokes from the guys around her.
'He's right, Julius. Everyone has to do it,' Troy said.
Fuckin' A. Lachance could feel her heart in her chest as it beat, her buzz was starting to peak, and she felt fucking invincible. This was where she was meant to be.
'You ready for this, playa?' Julius asked.
Lachance shrugged out of her jacket to more whistles, and slung it over a gravestone. Hopefully one of the whistling motherfuckers would step up. She placed her blade on top of her jacket and rolled her shoulders.
'Rules are simple. You go against five guys, and it's over when you get knocked the fuck out. Or if you lay them out, but... I ain't puttin' money on that,' explained the tall guy.
'Shit, fine, whatever. C'mon, yo.' Lachance was hopping in place. He arched an eyebrow and nodded to several Saints. Big ones. The rest stood back and made a rough circle around them, laughing and pointing at the chick who was about to get her ass kicked.
Glances were exchanged among the five, and two stepped forward first, stocky guys, both with black hair. Lachance was bouncing in place, hands in loose fists at her sides.
'Hey, sorry about this, baby. We'll make it quick,' said the one approaching from her left. The other guy lunged, hoping to send her towards his buddy. Instead, she stepped right and caught him under the nose with the heel of her hand, his own motion giving the blow extra power. His head snapped back, eyes rolling in surprise and pain.
'Oh, shit bro.'
'Pssh, lucky strike, yo.'
Hissed intakes of air came from the Saints watching as he fell, blood running down his face. But there were whoops as Lachance was knocked to one knee by a kidney punch from the guy who had called her 'baby'. Biting back nausea, she rolled away from the kick aimed at her chin, and stood to face him. When he strode forwards to swing a fist at her face, she caught his arm as it sailed past, and drove her elbow into his throat. He choked and dropped to his knees.
More hisses from the spectators.
'Fuckin' waste the bitch.'
'That ho jacked Milano,' she heard as she smiled to the other three, who had started to warily make their way forward.
It was a bum rush. The three ran at her at the same time, and she managed to kick one hard in the crotch but the other two slammed into her. They crashed to the churchyard floor. Cheers erupted around the circle when her head whipped to the side as she was punched by the blonde guy who had straddled her waist.
'Not the face, bitch,' Lachance swore and grabbed him under his jaw, fingers digging into the arteries under his ears and finding the pressure points there. His face bloomed dark red then went slack as he fell unconscious, but stars shot through her vision and she bit her tongue as she was kicked in the head. Her hand reached out blindly and found the leg of her assailant, and twisted the nerves and tendons at the back of his knee. He cried out and crumpled to the floor beside her. She rolled onto him, blinking and spitting out a mouthful of blood, before punching him in the face and slamming his head into the asphalt.
Her breath was heavy as her eyes found the guy she had kicked in the dick. She could feel the blood running down her chin. He was still on his knees, and he held up a hand.
'Whoa, shit. I'm done, I'm out, man,' he shouted, and laid on the ground to whistles and catcalls around the circle.
With a laugh, Lachance wiped her bloody hands on her jeans and stood as Troy stepped forwards. He took her sticky hand in his and pulled her into an embrace.
'You earned your colours today,' he said, but as he pulled back he looked closely at her eyes.
She quickly turned to a cute young black guy who also grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug.
'That's some impressive shit. The only other Saint who kicked ass like that was Johnny,' he said, nodding to the tall, spiky-haired guy.
Johnny gave her a dismissive look. 'Shit, took me half the time,' he muttered.
'I'm Dex, by the way,' said the guy who still had hold of her hand. She smiled.
'Hey, I'm Lachance.' She had to spit out some more blood. Dex stepped away and she felt along her cheekbone. Bruised, but not broken. Good.
Finally, Julius walked up to her. 'Welcome, to the Third Street Saints,' he said. Another hug.
