SMACK!

The only thing keeping Carly from hitting the ground are my girls holding her up right.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" I yell above the other Bel's who are screaming the same thing behind me. Their boots stomping the ground in protest.

"You don't just walk onto our turf and start demanding shit." I pull my switchblade and hold it to her smarting cheek. "I oughta cut you up right now." I remark.

Carly's lower lip trembles. "I'll prove to you I'm down." She exclaims.

"It doesn't matter-"

But Carly isn't done being brave yet because she speaks over me. "P.L. is a gang that's been forming underground they have one purpose and that's to wipe the Jezebel's out." She says.

"How do you know?"

"Yeah what do you know about the gang life Princess?"

"I work at the mall-" Carly explains.

"So does everyone else," I cut her off "you're gonna hafta do better than that; that doesn't impress me."

"No! You don't understand! That's where I heard it. People have been talking about in hushed tones around school and the mall."

I'm so busy pondering her words I don't even laugh about the fact that she actually used 'hushed tones' in a sentence. Could this have really been going on without my knowledge? Just how serious are the P.L.'s?

"You know in Miami people gossip like it's a professional sport, I'm not lying to you." Carly grinds out. I stare at her hard. She isn't lying.

"We don't have time for this shit." Jacq exclaims. I turn to look at the golden brown haired twin.

"We got two hours before we have to showdown and we don't know what we're up against; we have to get ready!" She exclaims.

I sigh. "Yeah you're right, but what are we gonna do with this," I nod my head at Carly. "We can't leave her here in our hide with all our shit."

Knuckles, one of the girl's holding Carly, speaks up. "We'll keep her under our watch."

"That won't work, we need everybody when we meet that gang today. We don't know what we're up against."

"She'll come with us." Jill speaks up. "We'll keep her in the van, but Jacqy's right we gotta go."

"You're the brains Jill. You heard her put the Princess down, and let's get ready." Knuckles, Lu, and Raven give me a skeptical look, but do as they're told. They sit Carly down in a wicker chair and warn her to stay put with menacing glares. She won't move she ain't stupid.

"Let's get ready Bel's!" I announce and for the next hour and forty five minutes we do.

The Jezebel's wardrobe usually consists of all black leather and denim skinnies, motorcycle jacket's, cut offs, and stompers with men's button down shirts, and bandana's wrapped around our heads '1940's working woman' style. But on blistering hot Miami days like this we opt for light wash denim and tanktops. By the time we're done, the girls are doing practice swings with their knives and sparring with each other. I walk over to Carly whose grinning like an idiot.

"Let's go Shae, they're bringin the car around." I snatch her by her arm, and lead her outside where the other Jezebel's have begun to pile into our vehicle of choice; an unmarked white van aka a kidnapper van. I shove her in the back.

An hour later we're thirty minutes early and using the oppurtunity to scope out the spot. No one. So we find a park (not a very hard feat) and begin to suit up with our weapons I turn to look at Carly. "Alright Shae stay back here and don't try any funny shit."

Insolente gives her a few intructions as well. Putting her ink black curly hair into the scarf, she says, "And don't let them see you. If they know we have a stowaway they'll attack. With guns." She emphasizes. Carly gulps but nods in agreement.

"Good. Let's go." One by one we pile out. We're met by what looks like a small entourage of people. Instead of trying to pack their gang into one vehicle like we did, about four girls each have squeezed into five four seaters. Nice rides, but nothing too extravagant. Black cars with dark tinted windows.

With me in front, we meet the crew in the middle our boots making the only sound as we walk across the old cracked asphalt. I size up the girls by appearance first. They are wearing what looks like flight captain caps, rank ribbons sewn on along random initials in red and black. Their choice of clothing consist of black lace mini dresses that leave damn near nothing to the imagination over destroyed jeans giving the sexy look a rebellious twist along with faded denim jackets. Black boots complete the look. That's that. They're all in uniform just like us.

The chick in front of them speaks to me first in a hilariously chipmunky voice.

"You the one they call 'Sammie gold?'"

"Yeah. Who wants to know?" I ask in a flat voice.

Her light green eyes sparkle with interest. She removes her cap and shakes out long, rust colored hair that, like mine, curls at the ends, but much softer.

"That's cute." I say amused, "you gonna change into a red bathing suit and run slow mo down a beach next?" Behind me, my friends burst out laughing and I smile.

Ms Baywatch smiles too. "My what a sense of humor you have. No I was just going to introduce myself," She curtsies cap in hand, "My name is Ivy. But you better call me Lace. And this is Poison Lace." She nods behind her

"Yeah and we-"

"We know who you are." She cuts me off, "I got a question for you Gold."

I cross my arms and cock my head. "Shoot."

"Does the name: Lacey Lee ring a bell."

I purse my lips completely suspicious. "Yeeeah I know her. My grandmother killed her back in the day."

Lace shakes her head and clucks her tongue. "Think again Goldie I'm her granddaugter." I hear the Bel's shift at the shocking news.

"And this is Patch's granddaughter, Patch." She nods toward the girl next to her. Must be her right hand. The chick is wearing a black eyepatch with a black widow spider on it she has boy short auburn hair and a smug look on her face.

Patch's story was that after my grandma killed Lace, the former leader of the Dagger Deb's, she fled Miami as soon as she got word the Jezebel's had been released from jail a year later. Part of me wants to say that this is a lie it has to be. But the rational part of me knows perfectly well that these girls are telling the truth. They've each taken on their grandmother's old gang names and even went as far as taking on their appearance. That eyepatch, Pure Patch, that pilot's cap pure Lace. Those bitches are back in the form of their offspring.

"Don't believe me?" Lace yells pulling out her blade my friends react immediately a collective click rings out. "Try me," Lace eyes my crew, "but you and me one on one right here! Right now."