Hello, Moaners here. Just dropping a little more of my crazy onto the world. Bob help us. Hah.

I want to thank Diane for being my International Master Beta (*snort* it's still funny to me).

I don't own Twilight or any of its characters, but Joanna on the other hand, that bitch belongs to me. I forgot to add this to the last chapter, the song "The Nobodies" doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Marilyn Manson. I just think it's fuckawesome.

Rated M for mature, but you knew this already. Read on. Let me know what you think, even if you hate it. =)

"Bells, this is by far the worst idea you've ever had," Alice stated, not lifting her gaze from her cuticles.

"Yeah, you should listen to the midget. She's actually not full of shit this time," Joanna said as she flipped through the magazine in front of her, moving her head to the side just in time to miss the metal nail filer Alice threw at her. It stuck to the wall with a soft thud in the spot where Joanna's head was not two seconds ago.

I looked at both of them expecting them to say a "Just kidding. This is a great idea! Let's go kill this bastard". I wait for it. I keep waiting for it. They don't even pay me any mind, they're too busy flipping each other off and glaring.

"I can't believe you guys! This bastard killed mom. He's taking our hard earned money!" At this, Joanna made a snorting sound and Alice giggled, "Shudap! It is hard earned. For the most part. I mean it HAS to be hard right?"

This made the three of us burst out in laughter. It felt good to laugh again. It had been rough these past couple of weeks between arranging the funeral, making sure everything was up and running at work and dealing with our "debt". Laughing wasn't really an option.

I was emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted. I had a headache that just wouldn't leave me alone and my shoulders burned from all the stress. Everyone stayed away from me, everyone except these two; Alice and Joanna, my BFFFs, my PICs, the only reasons why I hadn't gone out to Vegas right after my mother's funeral and shot Charlie Swan dead.

"How can you bitches not give a shit about getting even with this prick!" My voice got louder as I got more frustrated with their lack of enthusiasm for my revenge.

"Hold up right fucking there," Joanna spoke first, looking me square in the eye and pointing her index finger at me, "Don't go putting fucking words in our mouths. We give a shit as much as you do; you're just not thinking clearly, you dumbshit. You can't just go barge in on his territory and fucking shoot the assmuncher down! You will be dead quicker than you can say cock ring. You really fucking think he's not armed up to the goddamn fucking teeth? Don't be so fucking dense."

"Joan is right. You're not thinking straight. We need to plan ahead in order for Mom's death to be avenged rightfully," Alice said while picking at her nails with a small knife.

That girl always has some sort of blade on her, whether it's a knife or a razor blade, and you can search her anytime, sure enough she'll have a blade on her. And she's good with them too. Damn good.

"Not to mention that he's got his goons outside watching our every fucking move. We can't just get our shit and leave right after the-this. He'll know something is up. He'll probably put a tail on us if we leave the city." Joanna looked up at me, knowing I hadn't even picked up on that.

Shit, I'm loosing my touch.

"No, you aren't. You've been kind of busy lately. We got your back B. You know this," she said answering my, obviously not so inner, inner monologue.

A flash of sadness reached Alice's almond-colored eyes as she nodded in agreement with Joanna's words. No pity, just sadness, almost as if she was trying not to break down again like she had right after the funeral.

She was a fucking mess. We all were. Joanna, in her grieving, had gone on a four-day coke binge. The real fun started once she got off the coke after an ass kicking from Alice and myself. Withdrawals are a bitch. Alice began to cut, again. After eight years of not mutilating herself, the loss of our mother (because let's face it, she might have been my biological mother but she treated these two like they were her own flesh and blood. She used to say that we were all related in a past life since she felt so in tune with the three of us) bent her too far and she snapped. Cutting was the only way to make the pain in her heart go away, or so she said. We put a stop to that shit too. Me? I went catatonic for the first few days. Then rage took over the numbness. I would lash out at everyone and threaten bodily harm to anyone that came too close to me or said something I thought was disrespectful towards my mother's memory. It was fucking hell.

I sank back into my chair, willing my body to relax if only for a minute or two. We did need a plan but I wasn't in the right state of mind to even consider a plan. Fuck.

"We need a plan like Joanna said. We can't just go in there with our thumbs up our asses expecting them to lets us go in, kill him and go on our merry way," Alice said, " We need to get out shit straight. If we want this done right it's going to take some time."

"Time? How much time?" I growled.

"Yes, time-ah. A lot of time, so calm down tiger. We need to make this fucker squirm before we take him out. I want him to suffer, I need him to be afraid to take a fucking shit without having one of his bodyguards right there to wipe his ass for him."

She had a murderous look in her eyes that we've only see once before. That look appeared the night before she killed her birth mother and stepfather. Of course we helped, what kind of friends would we be if we didn't. Right? She got to see the life drain out of their eyes; they deserved it. No child should have to go through half of the things Alice had to. It's a miracle she didn't snap before we met her on the street all those years ago, but that's another story best saved for a different time.

"Ooh I like the way Sparky thinks," Joan flashed her perfect Hollywood smile, "I'm in! Err not that I wasn't before, but I'm in with Sparky here."

I was outnumbered. Might as well fold.

"Fine. We'll plan this your way. Now let's go eat. I'm starving."

That was our cue to drop this conversation for the time being. Probably to a time where I wasn't so damn emotional and irrational. People got hurt if I were to have it my way, well the wrong people anyways.

The girls agreed without much of a fight and the seriousness of it all dissipated as we left my mother's office.

The building where our spa was located was like the rest of the neighboring buildings. Three stories, brick facade with old Victorian windows spread out evenly across the front. The only real difference was on the inside the building. While the other businesses had to share a floor or two with others, we had all three floors to ourselves. Right now you're probably asking yourself what the hell it is that we do and why is it so profitable. It's kind of a funny story really, not really haha kind of funny more like a what-the-fuck-just-happened kind of funny.

Mommy dearest bought this whole building back in the 80's with some of the abortion money Daddy Kin Ping had given her. She thought that by opening a business she would give me a better life than the one she left. It would have worked too, if she hadn't brought with her some of the girls from back home. What started out as a nice spa in a semi-nice neighborhood, ended up as a high-class brothel in a well-respected neighborhood.

My mother's second-in-command, Irina, decided that she wasn't bringing enough money to keep up with her old lifestyle; her salary wasn't enough moolah for her coke habit. She decided to take the situation into her own hands, quite literally. It started as an accidental brush on the crotch followed by a blush-accompanied flirty comment and ended in a happy ending massage.

She was clever; I'll give her that.

My mom noticed that Irina was getting a lot of male customers for her massages so my mom installed some hidden cameras (I know, I know, that's kind of shady but hey it worked) in the rooms where Irina worked the most. At first it was just happy endings. My mom figured it wasn't that big of a deal, maybe she should let Irina do her thing. Then, her customers wanted more than just a handjob, they wanted the whole enchilada, so to speak, and sometimes she would blow them but never fuck them. Some were okay with that, others felt a little ripped off. One of them got violent with Irina, threw her across the room and demanded she blow him and let him fuck her in the ass. He shook her pretty hard, banging her head on the wall giving her a concussion. It was a lucky thing my mom was watching the live feed that afternoon, she rushed into the room with a bat and knocked his buck-naked ass out.

When the bastard came to, he threatened to sue my mother and shut her down permanently; of course mommy dearest wasn't hearing any of that. She told him she had video proof of him getting violent with Irina, if she didn't give it to the cops she'd leak it on the Internet and end his career regardless. Guy was pissed but left without anymore fuss. Turned out he was a big shot in the local political circle at the time and now he's the mayor of our fair city.

True story.

After that Irina and my mother got into a huge fight that almost severed the spa and their friendship. To be fair my mom should have asked what the hell was going on with her, who knows maybe Irina would have came clean. No pun intended. They kissed and made up and added some extracurricular services to the menu. It was all very secretive yet very professional, it was all word of mouth (pun totally intended). New clients had to be brought in by another client that was trusted and was made to sign a confidentiality contract. And that's how we've pretty much ran things for years now.

Our front is a massage parlor/spa, and to some extent we are. The first floor is reserved for all the real spa business, the second for those who aren't really looking for a lay but for other sexual favors. The third and last floor, where the main office is situated, is strictly for our better paying customers. These services include but are not limited to vanilla sex, bondage, and a wide variety of fetishes and drugs. You name it, we got it.

See, I told you it was a funny story.

A skip and a hop away from our spa was a little cafe named New Moon. It was in between a bank and some swanky restaurant, you know, the ones that charge 30 bucks for a salad that you could probably get at Quizno's for five bucks. It's a very serene place, just secluded enough to let you sit there with your own thoughts but still be in the heart of the city. It was our first time we had been here since, well you know, we all went crazy...er.

We sat around a white wrought-iron table under the lavender awning; the iron chairs were beautifully decorated with a simple floral padding on the backrest and seat. It was very antiquated but it was homey and comfortable.

We were regulars here. It was like this table was always reserved just for us; maybe it was thanks to Flavio the waiter. He saw us from inside and waved. He was a tall, lanky guy in his early twenties, with an olive shade complexion and dark green eyes. He had the biggest crush on Joanna and she just liked to string him a long and make him blush.

Poor guy. I almost felt sorry for him.

This was our planning site; sometimes we sat outside and enjoyed the beautiful weather, like today. Yes, I am quite aware that planning the demise of a drug lord out in the open might not seem like a smart plan. But have a little faith, darlings. There is a method to the madness.

We'd not been here five minutes when I saw the reflection of an unmarked back sedan park across the street. The windows were completely blacked out.

"Not five minutes and the wolves descend," Joanna said without looking up from the menu in her hands.

A menu that she knows by heart but likes to go through the motions of actually picking something off the menu. Who am I to deny her, right?

Flavio came out to the table with our drinks. I know, we hadn't actually said anything to him other than the waves and smiles when we first got here, but he's just that good. And we're just that predictable. When it came to our lunch, it was always an iced tea with extra lemon for me, an Italian soda for Alice, and a Long Island Iced Tea for Joanna; along with two waters.

We smile our thanks before he speaks.

"Should I bring out the usual for you ladies? Or are you going to try something new Ms. Joanna?" he smiled broadly at her.

Have I mentioned he wants her lady balls? No? He does, he wants to motor boat them.

She looked at the menu a second longer, took off her sunglasses to look up at him through her eyelashes.

"Oh Flavio," she dropped her voice to a seductive tone, "You know me so well. Why don't you just bring me exactly what I want? Hmm?"

Poor bastard swallowed hard and licked his lips not taking his eyes off her mouth. "Y-y-yes. Of-f course Ms. Joanna," he stammered right before turning on his heel and all but flew away from our table.

"You're bad Joanna," Alice giggled while adding sugar to her soda.

Don't ask. I don't understand it either.

"No, I'm not. He's just too chicken shit to ask me out," she shrugged, folding her menu and discreetly looked over my shoulder, "Strike a pose ladies."

She took her camera phone out and aimed it in my direction. She tipped her head to the left urging me to mirror her actions. I did and smiled as she snapped the picture.

Alice was busy fixing her boobs to get them to spill over the top of her shirt in order to look good for the pictures. Not just the pictures Joanna were taking either. Joanna reached over and started messing with Alice's chest too.

"You know, you should get 'em done. Add a little more," she commented pushing her boobs closer together making them look a lot bigger.

Alice looked down considering Joanna's advice for a second.

"Then I would have to get my ass done too. Or else I'd topple over. No, I think I'll keep my girls natural while they're still perky." She took a sip of her soda as Joanna let go of her boobs proving true her statement.

"Do we have extra light bulbs?" I asked Joanna.

As her eyes scanned the street, she paused for a second.

"No, I think it's just the one you saw. Might be a brand new one though," she shrugged.

I nodded. Joanna was an expert at picking out "Light bulbs" and "pigs in a blanket" in any place. It had become a great asset when she sold drugs on the street. She can sniff out an undercover faster and stealthier than anybody I have ever met.

"We might be looking for videos soon though," I told her.

"We should get cable for the house guys," Alive piped in, "That way we'll be able to watch as many movies as we can."

I looked at her for a second just to make sure she had been paying attention to our conversation or if she had blanked out on us again. She had her eyes fixed on something, or someone, to the left of me. She put on her sunglasses and I was able to see in the reflection a van. A white "cable company" van.

"Soundtrack?" I asked.

"Definitely," Joanna answered looking completely nonchalant.

I was about to open my mouth to say something but my phone started buzzing. An e-mail-from Alice. When the fuck did she even type this out?

She's a fucking ninja, I tell you.

I have a really bad feeling about this B. Two different sets of eyes in one sitting? And a soundtrack? Doesn't make sense. We need to head back soon.
-Al

I cleared my throat and nodded in her direction so only she would pick up on it. I learned to heed her advice a long time ago. Her hunches are usually dead on.

Joanna seemed preoccupied with something behind me. I've known her long enough to never question her out in the open. She'll give us a heads up if there is trouble.

Flavio comes back with our meal, still looking a little flushed whenever he glanced in Joanna's direction, but he serves us our meal without so much as a stumble.

"Thank you, Flavio," I say for the three of us.

My cohorts seem to be openly distracted by something. This is not normal. This has potential to be a complete clusterfuck.

He's about to leave when Joanna reaches out to grab him by the arm. He stares mouth wide open where they touch. I probably look just as surprised as he is. She has never touched him. Ever.

She speaks quickly and quietly in Spanish. That right fucking there makes me more nervous than the previous looks of preoccupation. He quickly agrees and picks up our plates.

Joanna gestures for us to get up and follow him inside. Alice pushes me to go ahead of her.

Fuck. This not good.

I glare at Joanna once we're re-seated. She ignores me and starts talking to Alice like we hadn't just got up like they had lit a firecracker in our cooters.

What. The. Fuck?