Chapter 48

A/N: As always thank you to Chyrstis and Hunny. You two are the best 3

I was an adult. I wasn't a child anymore. I didn't care if I wasn't even a year into being an adult, I was a gods-be-damned adult and I wasn't going to let anyone make me feel like a child damn it.

"Angelique, I'm waiting for an answer." I slunk down further in my seat and crossed my arms. "Don't sit like that, child, you're going to end up with a hump." I grumbled and sat in my seat properly. Listening to him was an old habit, after all Jean-Baptiste De Sauveterre was not only the family lawyer, but also my godfather.

"I'm not going back, this is my home now," I said as I played with my grits, which were undercooked and flavorless. I knew people couldn't make them right up here, so why I bothered ordering it was beyond me. At least the ham steak and eggs were cooked properly.

"Angelique, come now, what could you possibly see in this city? I have never encountered a stench quite like it." I smothered a laugh at the disdain on his face, which threatened to burst out when he gracefully wiped his nose with his embroidered handkerchief.

"It grows on you," I said with a shrug. "I'm not leaving. This is my city now."

"Your city? No, your home is-"

"It's gone. Papa took it away from me," I said firmly.

He pursed his lips and fiddled with his own food."Your father made a grievous mistake-"

"Is that what we're calling it?" I scoffed at him. "Papa's mistake would have had me servicing anyone with a nickel," I hissed, "excuse, a ruble. Dmitri was going to have me whore the debt off. Should I have let every comer come in me? On me? However, because of Papa's mistake?"

You'll work off your father's debts, won't you? I shook my head, trying to clear that voice out of my head. Four in, seven out. I put up my hand, warding him off as he tried to reach out and pat my hand. He looked hurt but quickly hid it, drawing himself up.

"Why didn't you come to me, Angelique? I would have protected you." His voice was soft, the same way Papa's could be when he was covering up his emotions.

"I was scared. I wanted my sister. And I didn't want anyone to get hurt." People had gotten hurt though. So many people. No, I wasn't going to think about it. I was going to shove it into the furthest reaches of my mind and lock it away. Though probably with my luck, it would come out when least convenient, because fuck me, right? "I have protection here. This is my home now."

He motioned at my tattoo which made me reach up and rub it before I forced myself to stop and sit up straight. "I've seen that everywhere, I'm guessing it's not for our city's football team?"

"The Saints. We rule the city." Part of me suspected Julius had chosen the gang's name only due to how easy it was to get merchandise.

"So, you ran away from home and joined some gang?" He shook his head. "You're just like your father, you know. Running from bad to worse."

"I didn't just join some gang." I took a deep breath, it was time I stopped lying to myself. "I made this gang what it is." The words tasted wrong on my lips, but it was true. I had been the one doing all the dirty work, from running drugs to killing people. I was the one who had been out there busting my ass. Not Julius. Me. "I'm the boss."

A faint smile cracked his lips. "Well now, that changes things."

XXX

"Who the fuck is Colonel Sanders here, and does he know the secret spices?" I cringed as Johnny opened his mouth. Out of everything he could have said, he had to say the one thing I had seen Jean-Baptiste sue a man into an early grave over. Of course, I would never inform him that he rather did look like the mascot with his white hair and suit. He'd give me that famous look of disappointment that only southerners knew how to give with such aplomb.

"Laisse-moi deviner, il est les muscles de votre petite gang? Ou il est la beauté?" Let me guess, he's the brawn of your little gang? Or is he the beauty? Even though he was speaking French, the look on Johnny's face made it clear he could hear the condescension in Jean-Baptiste's tone.

"Il est effectivement assez intelligent, il a les qualifications d'organisation impressionnant." He's actually rather smart, he has impressive organization skills.

"Ah, si, il est exactement comme votre père. C'est une bonne chose que vous prenez votre mère." Ah, so he's exactly like your father. It's a good thing you take after your mother. He paused, the look on his face making me narrow my eyes. "Dans certaines régions, vous faites, mais vous prenez après Benoît dans de nombreux." In some areas you do, but you do take after Benedict in many.

"Hey would the two of you like to pick a language I can fucking understand?" Johnny snapped.

"And which language would that be young man? I reckon English isn't your forte with that vulgar language."

"Fuck. You."

"Il a le même tempérament comme votre père. Je suggère que vous n'obtenez pas impliqué romantiquement avec lui." He has the same temperment like your father. I suggest you don't get involved romantically with him. My face flamed with his comment.

"Why the fuck are you blushing? What did he just say?" Johnny demanded. "Can you French fucks knock it off?"

"Non," we both said.

"Is everyone in these?" I asked holding up the roster binder Dex had left behind. Johnny took it for a moment, giving it a once over.

"Yeah, we haven't had any new canonizations since everyone fucked off."

"Keep it that way, Monsieur Gat," Jean-Baptiste said as he took the binder and put it in his briefcase.

"Seriously, one of you better fucking explain before I lose my impatience and start throwing punches."

"Mr. De Sauveterre is, was my father's lawyer. He's ours now."

"Why the fuck do we need a lawyer? We own this city."

I chewed my lip, trying to figure out how to explain it to him.

"Monsieur Gat, no one is above the law. You may have taken out part of the local forces, however, there are other forces that will come for you. My job is to keep you children out of jail."

"I ain't a fucking child, and we don't need your fucking help."

"Actually we do." I took a deep breath. "There was an undercover cop in the gang." The look of murder on Johnny's face almost made me take a step back.

"Who the fuck is it?"

XXX

"Mr. Little, we're offering a generous deal here," Mr. Randall said as he pushed the papers towards Julius. Troy sucked on his cig as he watched the pair. Randall was the city's scum-sucking DA, who never seemed to want to do his job if it required actual work. He knew the lazy attorney was one of the people who suggested that undercover agents be sent in, get as much information as possible, and to keep the agents coming while doing as little work as possible on his end.

He wanted to punch both of them. Repeatedly. Alas, he was already banned from the room after he had decked Julius the first time. Bastard was flipping on the gang faster than a Waffle House in a hurricane. Where was the loyalty? Or at least the illusion of it. Christ, he had more loyalty to the gang and he had been a traitor.

Now, he stood there helpless to save anyone else. Ang and Johnny were going down for Julius. He narrowed his eyes as Julius placed another sin on Ang's shoulders, throwing a smirk to the mirror Troy stood on the other side of. Julius just shoveled more and more shit onto Ang. He knew the bastard was doing it just to fuck him over.

That snide condescending look was much like his mother's, and made him want to bash Julius' face in. He knew there were still a few crooked cops left untouched by the Saints' rampage, he could arrange an accident… No, he couldn't do that. He had to go straight, crookedness was the whole reason all this shit had happened. He could fix this. He would fix this.

He'd keep Ang safe, and Johnny as safe as possible.

Johnny had always been too flashy, too ready to be the face of violence, there was no way to spare him from prison without getting dirtier. He'd make sure he didn't end up on death row at least. He owed him that much though Johnny wouldn't appreciate it. No one would appreciate what he was going to do.

XXX

Johnny's fist collided with my kidney as I tried to unsuccessfully dodge him. I hadn't expected this to turn into a fight. I didn't want to tell him yet about Troy, to admit that I was stupid enough to sleep with a cop and not see the signs. Going to see his sponsor for a drug addiction? More like seeing cops to rat us all out. Though, he had been good at the act, not liking his crew to do any of the drugs, or me to have my meds until he saw one of my stupid panic attacks.

"Fuck you!," Johnny yelled as I kicked at his brace-supported knee. He suddenly sprang forward, knocking us both to the floor.

"Children."

"Shove it, Chicken Man," Johnny snapped over his shoulder, my fist colliding with with his face when he turned back. I wrapped my legs around his chest and squeezed with all my might. "Jesus, you're going to break my ribs, get off," he growled, wheezing slightly.

"Not until you drop it," I said, as I squeezed harder. I could feel his bones creaking, I could break a watermelon between my thighs with no problem, I wondered if it was possible to break him just as easily.

"Fuck you, tell me who it is!" He was too busy trying to get my legs apart to bother to punch me again.

"Non, I'm handling it. You wanted me to be the fucking boss of this gang, you're fucking getting it and we're doing things my fucking way." He glared at me, it finally sinking in from the look in his eyes. I wasn't prepared for the sudden press of his lips against mine, time slowed to a crawl, he tasted sweet, his lips soft as silk, the lack of facial hair a stark contrast to Troy's.

Time sped back up as I practically kicked him across the room, his snorting laughter making my face flame even more.

"Knew you'd freak out and let me go," he said as he offered me a hand up. I glared at him but it didn't faze him or lessen that cocky smile of his.

"What the fuck, Gat?" I snapped as I rubbed my lips, trying to not even think about what just happened.

"Clearly, Monsieur Gat fights dirty. Your father was the same way." The horrified look on my face had Johnny howling with laughter. "He too would refuse to back down from such a situation, and many of his opponents would react similarly."

"Papa wasn't gay," I said dumbly. The idea of him kissing anyone aside from Maman was frankly horrifying. Actually, so was the idea of him being intimate with her.

"Indeed he wasn't, your father was pansexual and quite well-known for his philandering ways. As was your mother, though she called herself bisexual. The two of them could never agree over terms. Your mother, however, was more likely to kiss and then slit their throats, rather than go for the shock factor."

"I need a drink."

"I like your 'rents," Johnny said. "I think I'd get along great with them."

I glared at him with horror as he started waggling his brows at me. I threw a punch at him.

"Okay, I deserve that one," he chuckled, rubbing at his jaw, still grinning at me.

"You did want to know the truth. Now, if you children are done with playtime, let us begin the real work."