Westsidefrk: new chap is up!
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Jennifer: here you go!
Christianrockstar: Thank you so much!
Fwoggeh: here you are! Have a Gladhand!
Beth Smith: I'm sorry, don't abuse me!
Fath8252: Thanks for the review.
Phantoms Little Lotte: Here, have a Gladhand!
Tonyboy: I was sorry to hear about your play. I'm so glad you reviewed. I love the ending idea. I'll fix 'Nardo soon.
Ash Light: Here you go!
I'm so sorry to all! But I'm back now. My New Years Resolution is to update my stories at least once a month! I'm so sorry, I love you all!
Riff groaned as he slowly returned to consciousness. He lay still a moment to assess his injuries and try to get his bearings. He stifled a yelp of pain as he shifted from his face down position on the cold cement floor to his right shoulder. He spit blood from his mouth and part of a broken tooth onto the floor. His hands where tied together behind his back, and his left arm was dislocated, he knew that much, and he could feel seven or eight cracked ribs. His right leg had been hamstrung and he could feel cuts and bruises all over his face and body. He was amazed he was alive at all. He glanced around slowly, observing. He was in a large cement room, probably the basement of an apartment building or something. In one corner sat a small table with a dart board the wall across from it. There was only one window, but with his bum leg there was no way he'd ever get to it, besides, he doubted even Anybody's could get through that tiny thing, and the door was darkening with the dark figures of PRs. The largest one, Moose, moved over to Riff and lifted him up by his collar.
"Hey, Nardo. The Jet-boy's awake. Buenos noches gringo." He sneered into Riffs face, his breath reeking of alcohol and tobacco.
"Lemme go you son of a…" Riff started sharply, only to be belted across the face by Moose and dropped back to the floor. Riff shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He looked up to see a very angry looking Bernardo, sporting his pants now (Hehehe), and stalking towards Riff, switchblade in hand.
Rita darted breathlessly through the streets, dodging the occasional vehicle that speed towards her. I have to find him! She thought desperately, Nardo will kill him, oh Riff… She stopped on the edge of the Sharks territory and breathed deeply.
"Rita!" a voice yelled after her.
Chino woke with a start on the floor of Baby John's apartment. He lifted his head up to see Baby John and Anybodys sneaking out with A-Rab.
"Where are you three off to so late?" he asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"None a your business Spic!" hissed A-Rab. Baby John turned to face Chino and said softly,
"Riff disappeared and I think Rita went after 'im. I was gonna go find 'er before she got hurt." Chino's face paled visibly once he realized the only possible place Rita could be headed to.
"Juanito, you all must stay here." Chino commanded, rising from the floor. "I know where she went, I'll go after her."
"No way!" yelled A-Rab, who was silenced by a kick to the shin from Anybody's.
"I know, " Baby John grinned, "I kinda figured ya'd say that. I just wanted ya ta have this." He pulled out a well worn switchblade with the initials M.L., Markus Lindbergh.
"Juanito…" Chino began softly.
"It was my brothers… I want you to have it. It's always kept me safe… maybe it'll help you."
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