AN: So guess what! I'm not dead, and neither is this story. I finally made myself get off my ass and finish it this weekend, and my wonderful beta Verbose helped me out. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter.
Also, it happened again, I make chapter names to long for my own good, the name that it was supposed to be for this chapter is:
Ch 9. Your Past Follows you Like A Shadow; Always Right Behind You, Dark and Distorted
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, Disney owns that, but I want it.
ON WITH THE STORY.
Racetrack Higgins had loved his mother like nobody else, she had been fierce and independent and protective and full of life. Josephine Duro-Higgins had been eternally youthful, with silky black hair that floated down past her shoulders in light waves, defined cheekbones, olive skin, and chocolate brown eyes that almost seemed to melt as you looked into them. She had been unarguably beautiful, and had remained so even as she had faded away, even with all her hair gone, even with her skin pale, she had never lost her beauty. She had been a true momma bear, loving both her son and her husband passionately. She had only been 19 when Race was born, barely beyond childhood herself. She was only 28 years old when she died.
Race was leaning back in his chair, balancing on the hind two legs while watching a short women move across the kitchen gracefully. She glanced in his direction, her soft brown eyes hardening slightly as she caught sight of what he was doing.
"Antonio Luciano Higgins! What did I tell you about doing that? Ti farai male!" Race grinned the smile of a child who had been caught doing something wrong.
"Rilassa! I was being careful mamma, Non preoccuparti." The women pursed her lips and shook her head slightly.
"It does not matter if if you were being careful. I said no, capisce?" She looked straight at him, and he nodded sullenly.
"Capisco." She smiled her approval, but then her expression changed to one of alarm as she heard a bubbling, turning to see the pasta water boiling over. She rushed back to it, turning down the temperature and stirring the water before pouring more salt in. A man walked into the room. He was tall, with short dark - almost black - hair, dark brown eyes, and a lined face. He looked about as young as she was, but more tired, less lively. He saw the women and walked forward, smiling, before gabbing her by the waist and pulling her close. She laughed as he did so, her melodic voice yelping out.
"Gennero!" She smiled turned her head to give him a peck on his cheek, before disentangling herself from his arms and going back to her cooking. "You're late" She stated good naturedly, and he sighed a little bit, his shoulders seeming to slump as if someone had set a weight on them.
"Some asshol-"
"Gennero! Not in front of Tony!"
"Sorry darling, Some jerk decided not to pay up, so I had to pay him a visit. I'm happy I got back in time for your delicious food." He smiled as he said the last part, and she grinned shyly, before grabbing some oven mitts and draining the pasta water, and telling Race to set up for dinner. As the night proceeded, everything seemed so wonderful, but not quite right. His parents seemed to love each other. Well, not seemed, Race knew they had meant the world to one another, he knew that, but he couldn't seem to place what was wrong. Wait, they did mean everything each other. Not had. They did.
When they were finished, Race looked over at the man, still not sure what was so wrong with this. Why was he not content with this? He was happy, everything was good, so what was wrong? When he made eye contact with the man, it all came into place. Those dark orbs were so cold, nothing like they had been earlier when he had been speaking with the women. They were cold, and they seemed to be steadily growing angrier.
Race glanced around the room for the women, hoping that she could placate the man, but she had disappeared, the dished uncleaned, the faucet still running. She had simply vanished without a trace, and all the happiness that had appeared to emanate out of her had dematerialized with her. He looked back at the man, who was beginning to stand, his eyes no longer cold, they looked dead, in contrast to the rage that the rest of his face was showing. Racetrack took a step backwards, the man seemed to have grown exponentially in size in the space of time it had taken Race to look for the women, and although he had been much taller then Race when he had first walked in earlier, he now towered over the small boy. Race felt as if he was shrinking as the already gargantuan man grew even larger, taking another step towards the now shaking boy.
"What are you just standing there for? Do you think that you can do nothing for me and still live in this house? Do you think that I let useless queers eat my food? I don't know why I even keep you around, you can't do shit." He took another step forward, and Race once again skittered backwards, fear coursing through his entire body, making him clumsy, and he tripped over his own feet, landing on the ground with a painful thud. His father's eyes came alive as he fell, reviving in ferocity as he lunged forward.
"YOU USELESS SACK OF SHIT! YOU'RE NO SON OF MINE! I TELL YOU TO MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL AND YOU TRY TO RUN AWAY? WHEN I SPEAK YOU LISTEN! YOU HEAR ME?!" Gennero grabbed his flailing son, picking Race up by the collar of his shirt and slamming him against the wall. Race cried out in pain, wincing away from the man who was supposed to protect him as he was slammed against the wall again, before Gennero's left hand moved to his throat, while his right smashed into his stomach. He was screaming now, screaming for help, screaming for his father to stop, screaming for everything, for anything. But he was loosing the ability to breath, loosing the ability to think, and his whole body was aching as he heard a voice shouting at him.
"Tony! Cmon, get UP! Tony! Jesus fuck, TONY!"
His eyes snapped open and he struggled in his father's grasp, still shouting, landing a blow and hearing a soft oof as his father was thrown from the bed. Wait, bed? He stopped screaming, his throat raw from exertion, and he took in deep breaths, pushing himself into a sitting position as his attacker stood up and moved forward slowly. Except it wasn't his father, it was a skinny boy with messy blond hair and a petite face. He sucked in another deep breath as the boy moved closer, climbing into the bed with him and tentatively touching his knee.
"Hey, it's okay, you're okay." The boy muttered as he slowly moved his other hand up to cup Race's face, his thumb stroking across his temple.
Race took another breath. He was in his dorm room. He was with Spot. It had just been a nightmare, he got those a lot, even if they normally weren't so vivid. He was fine. And Spot was stroking his face, something that was so out of character that he felt certain he must have been screaming before he woke up. He looked into the skinny boy's eyes - he had such nice eyes- and leaned into the hand, signaling that he had calmed down some. Spot moved forward more, moving to kiss Race's forehead, then his lips, then his cheek, and holding onto him. Race relaxed at the feel of Spot's arms around him, and held onto his shoulders with shaking hands.
And they just stayed there for a bit, holding tightly onto each other as if they feared that someone would come and try to tear them apart. Race's head fell into the crook between Spot's neck and shoulder, and he breathed in the combination of cinnamon and cigarettes that seemed to be Spot's signature flavor. Once his hands had stopped shaking, and his breathing had become smooth, Spot moved back.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" He questioned with a strange calm that had already infected Race, who shook his head. Spot moved to get out of the bed, as Race was calm and his job was done, but Race grabbed his arm.
"You... You don't have to..." Spot looked at him questioningly as Race searched for the right words. "Stay here with me." He muttered quietly, and Spot, although he showed no outward emotions besides the soft calm, moved back by Racetrack. He grabbed at the tangled covers and smoothed them out, before pushing Race on his back, and laying both himself and the covers over them.
He kissed Race slowly and deliberately, using physical action to say something that words could not describe, something that he was almost scared to believe was real. Spot moved his head over, grabbing onto Racetrack and whispering. "Go back to sleep Tony." and Race closed his now heavy eyelids, his head laying directly under Spot's. Just as he was falling back to sleep, he felt a hand move slowly through his hair.
This time he didn't dream.
When Race next awoke, it was in a refreshingly non violent fashion. He blinked awake slowly, reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. When he opened them again, he took in his surroundings, Spot was lying on his back, eyes closed and head tipped to the side, appearing frighteningly young and vulnerable in sleep. Race had been laying his head on Spot's chest, and he blushed slightly as he notices the tiny bit of drool he left there. He leaned forward and kissed Spot's forehead, and he wondered if he could possibly skip out on school and spend the whole day just laying here in this separate peace. However, a second later his stomach grumbled, basically saying 'fuck you' to his plans of truancy and sleep.
He quietly shifted himself out of bed, being careful not to wake up Spot, who was still sleeping soundly, and then proceeded to tip-toe his way out of the room. He made his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen while contemplating his dream, which he could still remember with alarming clarity. Nightmares weren't all that uncommon to him, but he hadn't woken up screaming in ages, and he hadn't had one with his mom in it since a year after she had died. He wasn't the type of person to get freaked out too easily, but he'd be lying if he said that the dream hadn't shaken him a little bit.
He nodded at Jack and Itey, who were eating cereal while sitting on the kitchen floor, and went to pour himself a bowl. Jack looked over at him, and swallowed a giant bite of cereal he had had in his mouth.
"Hey Tony, you have any idea where all that shouting came from last night? It sounded like it was coming from upstairs." The 'cowboy' questioned, scooping up more lucky charms into his mouth.
"Oh, uh, that was me." Race admitted sheepishly, wondering how he could get out of this without sounding crazy. "I had this really fucked up dream, something about being chased by a giant teddy bear, I don't even kinda know, anyway, sorry about that." he babbled, wondering how that made him sound any more sane then what actually happened. Jack raised an eyebrow.
"You're scared of teddy bears?" He asked, incredulous, and Race's head snapped up.
"What? NO! What the hell, of course I'm not." He exclaimed, and Jack grinned.
"Then why were you screaming."
"Fuck if I know, I have some weird-ass dreams sometimes, but I am NOT afraid of teddy bears." He defended, seriously regretting his excuse of choice. Jack was smirking like a cheshire cat, and seemed like he was about to start laughing has ass off.
"Whatever you say, Racetrack." He nodded, still grinning, and Race groaned and grabbed himself some cheerios and a bowl, internally cursing himself while Jack laughed. Itey gave him a sympathetic smile, and batted Jack lightly upside the head, and Race smiled a little, pouring milk in with his cheerio's and taking a seat across from Itey on the kitchen floor.
They struck up a conversation, talking about anything and everything as they ate their breakfast. Soon the other boy's started to trickle in, and because of Jack, the conversation always ended up back at the same point when the boy's walked in.
"Race is afraid of teddy bear's." Jack exclaimed as Dutchy walked into the room, and Dutchy raised his eyebrows as Race groaned from the umpteenth time that morning.
"Really, Race, Really? Teddy bears? Is that even a real phobia, because people can be scared of all kinds of things, but I didn't think that it was even possible to be scared of adorable stuffed animals."
"I'm NOT, Jack's just being a dick about this weird-ass nightmare I had last night-"
"Were you the one screaming? About teddy bears? Oh, god, thats so freaking funny I can't even express it with words." Dutchy choked out, laughing by the end of his statement and Race huffed angrily.
"I hate you." He told Jack, who grinned back cheekily.
The kitchen was relatively full at this point, with a surprising amount of boys who would rather sit on the floor then go into the dining room, and chatter filled the air. Not long after Dutchy came downstairs Spot made his way into the kitchen. He was wearing a plain black shirt, which was about three sizes to big, and green and black plaid flannel pants. His hair was messy, and he was rubbing a hand against his eyes, and Race smiled at the pure cuteness that was his boyfriend. He didn't smile long though, as Jack kept with his method of informing literally everyone who came into the kitchen of Races new found 'phobia'.
"Hey Spot." Jack chided.
"Fuck off." Spot replied, going directly towards the fridge while flipping Jack off.
"Your boyfriend-" Jack started, but was promptly interrupted.
"I said fuck of, Jacky-boy, I need food before I can deal with your shenanigans." The blond stated flatly, grabbing the milk out of the refrigerator and walking over to the cupboard to look for some cereal.
"Tony's scared of teddy bears." Jack said very quickly, and Race shot a glare at him.
"I am going to fucking kill you." The Italian muttered lowly as his boyfriend looked on with a strange expression on his face.
"... What the fuck?" Spot asked, glancing between Jack and Race.
"Your boyfriend. Tony. He's afraid of teddy bears." Jack informed him, and Race leaned over to smack him upside the head while Itey and Dutchy, laughed.
"Really Tony, teddy bears?" Spot asked, and Race flipped him off before smacking Jack again.
"I know, It's a strange phobia right?" A slightly abused Cowboy stated before smacking Race's arm back as he went to smack him again.
"I think I'm a little ashamed of you now." Spot added, shaking his head back and forth in mock disappointment while he poured his food into a bowl and joined them on the ground.
"I think we need to help him get past his fear." Dutchy chimed in, grinning evilly while Race groaned.
"I hate you all." He stated, but was ignored by the entire room.
"Should we just fill his entire room with teddy bears?" Dutchy asked.
"You do that and I will kill you." Spot replied darkly, but Dutchy didn't seem phased.
"Stop taking the fun out of everything Spot." Specs added from across the room.
"What if we just fill his side of the room with them" Mush mused thoughtfully.
"That might be okay" Spot amended, smiling at Race, who stared back resignedly.
"Where will we get the teddies though?" Dutchy continued.
"I think Mush has a couple, we can scrounge" Itey, who had not spoken for a few minutes, informed Dutchy. Race looked over at him with a pout, and Itey smiled innocently back.
"You guys suck." Race muttered darkly, crossing his arms across his chest and looking quite a lot like an unhappy child.
"We're trying to help you Race, stop complaining." Mush stated offhandedly.
"I'm not afraid of teddy bears!" Race told the room for what felt like the thousandth time. He really needed to get better at cover stories.
"Whatever you say, Tony" Mush sighed, then glared at the other boys, "Now, about my teddy bears. You can't touch them." Causing Dutchy and Specs to exclaim unhappily while Race leaned back against the cabinets, knowing that this could take a while.
"If you want to get blown by me ever again then you better knock that smile off your face." He told Spot, who was in fact grinning.
"Like you could manage that even if you wanted to." Spot replied, smiling wider then ever.
"Your such a dick." The brunette replied with a mock-glare.
"I know, so are you." Spot agreed, and he couldn't help but grin as he scooped up cereal from his almost empty bowl.
"But I'm a nice dick." Race countered.
"That doesn't make any sense." The taller teen pointed out, and Race huffed.
"Your face doesn't make any sense." He replied with annoyance.
"Really, Tony? Thats like the worst insult in the world." Spot raised his eyebrows and moved a hand up to his temple snorting in derision.
"It's morning, my brain isn't functioning yet." Race defended, but it came out almost questioningly.
"Excuses Excuses." The blond stated, sounding like a teacher who's student had missed an assignment.
"I hate you." Race pouted.
"Nope, you really don't." Spot countered, his smile still firmly in place. Race really loved it when Spot smiled, he looked like a freaking model, and so much happier then he normally was.
"You don't know everything." He stated, still pointedly ignoring the teddy bear argument happening around them.
"But I know you." Spot replied easily.
"Oh really?" Race questioned curiously.
"Yeah, I have become an expert on all things Anthony Higgins." The blond grinned at the Italian, who sniggered a little bit.
"Well then it's a good thing my name isn't Anthony Higgins." Race replied, and Spot's eyes widened slightly in surprise
"Bullshit, then what the fuck is it." He inquired interestedly.
"Antonio Luciano Higgins" Race replied with a formal Italian accent.
"Close a-fucking-nuff, you Italian bastard." Spot vindicated himself vehemently, and Race laughed.
"Not a bastard,"He pointed out, "my parents were in looovvvvveeeeee"
"So they must have fucked a lot." Spot responded cockily.
"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?" Race all but shrieked at the younger teen.
"Because it's true." He replied innocently, and Race narrowed his eyes.
"You're parents did too." He pointed out.
"Nope, I was a one night stand. At a concert, no less. Plus, my mom was basically the town slut, so I've come to terms with her sex life." Spot stated, picking at his nails, while Race tried to get the idea of his mother having sex out of his head.
"Well my mom was the Italian equivalent of the Virgin Mary." He replied, happy with that explanation.
"So that makes you Jesus." The taller boy questioned dubiously.
"Yep." Race nodded definitively.
"Wow, you're shorter then all those religious nut-cases seem to think. But then again, thats what they say about paintings, 'the camera adds five pounds, the brush adds five inches'." Spot stated sardonically, and Race huffed.
"Really? The jabs on my hight are getting a little bit old now, aren't they?" Race commented, glaring at Spot, who snorted and flicked Race in the nose.
"I don't think they'll ever grow old. Much like how you will never grow." The blond boy commented as Race rubbed his nose and continued to glare, looking quite a lot like an offended puppy. Just as the brunette opened his mouth to speak, a screeching shout made everyone's eyes snap over to Dutchy, who was staring at the microwave clock.
"ITS ALMOST SEVEN OH-CLOCK!" The shaggy-haired teen shouted, pointing at the time. There was a moment of silence while everyone wondered what exactly Dutchy meant by his seemingly-random outburst, and then a moment of realization that their bus would be there in ten minutes, and next there was a collective movement of everyone standing up and running towards the door.
The next few harried minutes were spent in a hurry of taking quick showers and changing clothes and stealing of towels as the boys rushed to the bus stop.
When Race got to school, hair still damp from the fastest shower he had ever taken - partially because Spot had quite literally kicked him out halfway through - he was tired, but in an overall good mood. He was walking along side Jack, Mush, and Spot as they headed towards the main doors of the school when he glanced across the street and stopped in his tracks.
His uncle Giovanni was leaning against a tree on the other side of the road, smoking a cigarette and staring at him with such ferocity that Race could barely stand to keep looking in his direction. He stared, mouth agape, at Gio as the man grinned slightly, a cold smile that he had often seen on his father's face, and gave him a little wave.
He was so focused on his uncle that he didn't notice his friends staring at him until Spot flicked him in the ear.
"Hey, you alive in there, Tony?" He glanced toward his boyfriend, bringing his hand up to his ear while glaring at Spot.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just spaced out." He muttered, and glanced back at his uncle, who gave him a thumbs up. He felt a shiver down his spine that had nothing to with the slight chill of the mid-september air. The blond boy looked at him dubiously, then in the direction that he had been staring. Slight surprise registered as he saw Race's uncle, then he looked back at Race, his face once again impassive. Spot glanced over at Jack and Mush, who both looked curious.
"Mush, find your boyfriend. Jack, fuck off." He said flatly, and Mush appeared startled, but nodded and waved goodbye at Race before walking in the direction of Blink's bus stop, while Jack narrowed his eyes.
"Why the fuck do I-" He started to say, but was promptly interrupted by Spot.
"Just fuck off before I make you fuck off." The younger teen stated, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows as the taller boy stared back at him. There was a moment of silence before Jack conceded.
"Okay, but you're explaining later." He stated, pointing at Spot as he started to walk away.
"Like hell I am." Spot huffed, turning to face Race, who was alternating between looking at Spot and glancing towards Gio. As soon as Jack was safely out of ear shot, he addressed Race, "Why the fuck is you're creepy ass uncle watching you from across the street?" He stated quietly but seriously, and the italian boy finally stopped looking at his uncle and gave Spot his full attention.
"I don't freaking know, maybe he just wants to talk or something." He started evasively, but Spot raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, sure, the fucker came over to have a freaking tea party. He can't be here for anything good, so what are we gonna do about it?" The blond questioned.
Race knew that he should have felt comforted by the fact that Spot had used 'we' instead of 'you', but his head was filled with bad dreams and insane family members who probably wanted him dead, and he didn't want Spot anywhere near that shit. He felt his chest tighten at the mere idea of getting Spot hurt, he didn't think he would ever forgive himself if he let his boyfriend try to help him with his own goddamn problems and got him hurt for it. So he looked Spot in the eyes as he spoke, making sure that the younger boy knew that he meant what he was saying.
"I'm gonna need you to butt the hell out of this okay? It's not you're problem, and I can do fine on my own. So you deal with you're shit and I'll deal with mine. Sound good?" He stated, then looked back over towards Giovanni, who had his eyes fixed on Spot instead of Race now, making him take a hasty step backwards, not wanting Gio to think that Spot was as important to him as he really was. Spot, however, was glaring at him.
"Why is it so goddamn hard for you to accept help? I mean, I get not wanting to be dependent on anyone, but that's different from keeping yourself from being in physical danger. What's it gonna take for you to get that I actually care about what happens to you?" The taller boy uttered heatedly, and Race wished that Spot could have said this shit at a better time, because it would have made him glow inside if it hadn't been for the fact that Gio was watching them and if his uncle knew that Race was gay then he could know what Spot was to him, and then Spot could be used as leverage against him, and he just couldn't handle that right now, so he couldn't be having this conversation in plane sight of a homophobe who had beef with him. His hearth throbbed against his ribcage and his throat seemed to compress against his windpipe, making his breathing feel forced.
"Just back off about it. I'm doing what's best here, you just have to trust me on that." Race replied, a slight pleading note coming into his voice as he vocalized the last part of his sentence. Spot opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Race interrupted him. "I gotta get to class, see you back at home later okay?" He rushed through the words and gave Spot a little wave before hurrying in the opposite direction, leaving a very confused, skinny boy behind him.
He knew full well that Spot would be a little pissed at him later for being such an ass, but he could make it up to him then, when he wasn't having a borderline panic attack with a huge Italian man watching him from afar. He gulped in a few breaths and focused on evening his heartbeat, glancing yet again in his uncle's direction, only to find that he wasn't there anymore. He looked around frantically for Spot, spotting his face in a crowd of people walking in the main doors, and after making sure that he was okay, he took another deep breath. He was starting to calm down when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he just about jumped out of his skin. He spun around so fast that he cricked his neck and he held onto it as he started up at his uncle.
"What the fuck do you want, Giovanni?" He questioned, trying to make himself seem taller, which was difficult on a good day for him, much less one where everything seemed to be such utter crap.
"Just figured I'd see how my favorite nephew is doing. Was that you're boy toy back there?" Gio replied, his nose wrinkling in disgust when he mentioned Spot.
"No, he's just a guy from my group home, now get the fuck out of here, or are you gonna try to assault me with over a hundred witnesses to see?" Race stated, speaking with so much false bravado that it was almost tangible, but his uncle didn't seem to care.
"I dunno, pretty women seemed fairly faggy to me. Maybe he should get a beat down too, huh, knock him 'round till he ain't so pretty anymore." Gio reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter as he spoke, lighting one nonchalantly and fixing Race with a piercing stare. Race forced himself to stay calm. He knew full well that Gio was trying to get a reaction out of him, the man was an expert on intimidation, and always the guy that his dad had sent in when somebody thought they were tough shit and didn't want to pay up.
"Funny, I seem to remember him knocking you on you're ass last time you came around." He replied with his signature snark, trying to keep face as he saw Gio's right hand tighten into a fist in his peripheral vision.
"I'd keep my mouth fucking shut if I were you. In case you're brain cells got scrambled in the hospital, I'm gonna remind you that the family doesn't take to kindly to narcs, and that's exactly what you are, so you might want to keep you're smartass mouth to yourself, and keep both eyes open, because this is not gonna be something that you walk away from, you here me boy? Watch yourself." And before Race could gather his thoughts, Gio threw his cigarette onto the ground and turned around swiftly, leaving Race with a cold feeling spreading throughout his body like poison.
He was going to die.
The school day seemed to pass like a dream, coming in and out of focus, the clock seemed to alternate between moving sickeningly slow, and so fast that it made his chest seem to compress around his lungs. He knew that he had spoken to Blink at some point throughout the day, but he had no idea what had been said, and his chemistry teacher had called him out for not paying attention, but he couldn't force himself to care. He had thought, no, he had hoped, freaking prayed, that the endless feeling of terror would stop once he was free of his father, once he didn't have to be worried about getting a black eye for every little thing he did wrong, but he realized now that it would never end. Not for him anyway, not while he was still breathing. It's not even that he was scared of dying, or getting hurt, it was the fact that he had actually almost believed that life could be good. That his life could be good. That he could have friends, and a real home, and that he could be happy for the first time since his mom had died. But it was never meant to last. He would always have to sleep with one eye open, always have to glace behind him as he walked down the street. Always have to keep the people he loved at arms reach.
After school, he decided to go to David's house, figuring that his uncles would be expecting him to go straight home, and that this might throw them off. But once he got to his friend's house with David and Blink, it was difficult not to be infected by their carefreeness, and he pushed away the feelings of despair temporarily and let himself relax.
They were in David's basement, Race and Blink sprawled across the couch, Blink taking up most of it while Race kicked at his legs, and David was setting them up to play Mario Cart on an almost-new Wii that he had managed to find at a thrift store the month before. Dave was one of the only people that Race knew that had a basement that was actually livable, not that Race had many friends who actually lived in homes to compare this too, but he thought it was pretty cool. The room was relatively big, and some piping stuck out in the corner that had been converted into a semi washing room, but the rest of it had a distinctly cozy feeling, with a beat up couch in front of a coffee table, and a cozy red armchair to the left of it, all facing a TV set. As the game turned on, David tossed two remote's in Blink and Race's general direction, and went over to sit in the arm chair.
The nice thing about having friends like these guys was that they all got really into games like this, and soon Blink was shouting profanities at David, who smirked and said, "Eat my dust, bitch." as he cruised past him, making Race laugh so much that he crashed his own car into a tree and fell back three places. They played more rounds then they could count, and just as he started to get hungry, Race glanced at the clock, only to see that he had to be back to the group home in just over half an hour, so he quickly said his goodbye's, and started to go home.
It was dark when he got outside, and there was a slight chill to the air that made him walk faster then he normally would have. It wasn't all that far to go, but it could take a little while to get there on foot, so he momentarily wished that he had a cell phone or a watch to check the time on, before compromising and walking even faster then he had been before. When he was just over half way there he felt a pricking sensation on the back of his neck, the kind of feeling you get when someone is watching you, and he glanced around him. There was a lady walking in the opposite direction a block away, but she didn't look dangerous, so he started walking again, telling himself that he was being paranoid.
As it turned out, he was completely correct in his paranoia, because he had barely walked a block when he was suddenly pushed roughly down to the pavement. A large pair of hands dragged him into an alleyway as he struggled fruitlessly, and he was sent flying to the ground yet again, this time catching himself and wincing as he felt scratches form on his hands and arms. He could only assume he was bleeding, but it was too dark to tell, and he was more focused on the shadowy man walking towards him. The man's face was momentarily illuminated by a ray of moonlight, and he stumbled backwards as Gio moved towards him, only to have his back come in contact with another man's chest. He threw himself to the left, away from both men, and backed up against the cold brick wall of the alley as he caught sight of his father's younger brother, Vincenzo. Gio blocked the way that he had entered the alley, and he frantically looked in the other direction, only to find himself staring at a fenced-off dead end. He tightened his hands into fists and took up a more defensive stance.
If he was going to go down, he would go down fighting.
AN: SO THAT HAPPENED. I will promise to at least TRY to update sooner this time, but then again, I have proven that that doesn't really work sometimes, so yeah, I have shame. Anyway, thanks to all of you who are still reading this stuff, and I hope that you guys'll keep on reading for the next few chapters. I'm still not quite sure how many it'll take to end this story yet. I also take requests and stuff, so if you have one, check me out on tumblr, I'm fuckpeopleihavetheinternet
Also, just a quick reference on the Italian at the beginning of the chapter:
Ti farai male: You'll hurt yourself
Rilassa: Relax
Non preoccuparti: Don't worry.
Capisce: Do you understand. (I'll be using this one pretty often because that's what my mother says to me when she finishes a rant.) Capisco: I understand. (PEOPLE NEED TO GET THAT YOU DON'T SAY CAPISCE BACK. IT'S CAPISCO GOD DAMMIT.)
Thanks for reading! (Review maybe?)
