I spent most of the night chilling my freaking ass out on that chair. But, despite this, I must admit that I was surprised to find out that haven't felt so calm and well in a long time. I turned my head slightly on the pillow I was leaning over to look at my friend, who was sleeping exhausted over the mattress. My lips split in a grateful smirk as I realized he was responsible for that pleasant feeling. He was a good kid and I noticed that his presence did me very well.

My lids, however, were very heavy so I shifted and turned, trying to find a more comfortable position to go back to sleep, when I heard steps approaching from my back. Carlos threw his warm blanket over me, and at that point it felt amazing.

'What time is it?' I asked him, seeing that he was already half dressed.

'Shh. Go back to sleep. I gotta go to the cemetery, but I will be back.' He turned to the broken mirror so he could adjust his clothes.

'Wha… Cemetery? What the fuck for?' I asked, surprised.

'Remember I told you about my roommate?'

'Yup.' I replied, half asleep.

'He is name is Bruno, he is a groundskeeper at the "Mourning Woods".' He started to explain while he hastily slipped in his shoes.

'What are you gonna do?'

'Crash a burial and toll his car. That oughta make him change his mind.'

I pulled a face and joked, imagining the scene: 'Wow. Remind me to always pay my debts with you.'

'You already did…' He said while he came closer and grabbed my hand, putting something on it. 'Take my phone. I'll call you later.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At the exact same time that Carlos has closed the door of the studio on the Red Light District, Johnny Gat was leaving Aisha's house in the suburbs. We'll see that the ex convict entered his vintage car and left the garage with a formidable and totally unnecessary maneuver. He reached for the glove box and traded his regular glasses for stylish dark shades, the accessory adding more points to the infinite score of his bad ass attitude.

Not the Gat needed any.

The man was a legend, and his appearance walked hand in hand with his attitude. Born from Asian immigrants, he was bulky and tall. He dressed in classy clothes with hardly some bling, and one could almost forget he was a gangster if his outfit wasn't so tight and his short hair didn't have very light ends on it.

Was Gat handsome? Well, his face didn't have the striking harmony of Carlos' traits, for instance, but his crazy personality had a huge impact on his appearance, making him far more irresistible than many other men with perfect looks.

He did a couple of stunts on the empty streets, as if to remind himself of what freedom felt like.

Johnny opened the windows as he stared at the moving city, in desperate need of feeling the wind and letting those two years of prison behind. The passionate night of sex he had with the woman he loved the night before erased most of the shadows that've been plaguing him. Now all Gat needed was to pick up things where he left off ten years ago. And for that, he needed his best friend.

The car picked a turn under a sign that read 'Red Light District' and our driver accelerated, excited to see The Boss and thinking how much he missed that crazy bitch.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Who is it?' I asked carefully as I heard a low knock on the door.

'It's the Easter fucking bunny and I have two huge eggs.'

I chuckled, shaking my head fondly and putting my gun down. Gat! How much time passed since I last heard him say offensive shit like that.

I rolled myself on the blanket and hurried to open.

'Easter Bunny!' I glanced at him and then joked, passing a hand on my chin and pointing to his new (and failed) atempt to grow some beard. 'I wanted to tell you since yesterday... What the fuck is this? Looks like my pussy when I was twelve.'

'Fuck off.' He said, amused. 'Hey, why is your hair all screwed up?'

'I was sleeping motherfucker, what do you think? Come here!'

We hugged each other happily and tight just like the day before.

'Come in.'

'Eesh sent you croissants and clothes, and I some hard stuff.' He tossed me a heavy brown bag and I grinned.

'Vodka before 7 am. I missed you, Gat!' I opened the bottle and took a long swig before passing it to him. 'What's the occasion?'

'I called a contact from prison, she found us a place to start fresh.' He said, excited, as he cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand before taking a drag himself.

'I'm loving it! So, what is the catch?' I asked him while bitting on a croissant with a meaningful glance.

'We have to evict the current residents.' He grinned back with fake innocence.

I tilted my head with laughter, satisfied. Both of us were dying for some action.

'I was hoping you would say that.'

'Let me call home then, and say I will be long.' He took out his phone.

'Ball and chain, huh Gat? I would never thought I would live to see the day.' I made fun of him as he dialed. 'We should go do some noise, get the city talking about us again. If people don't find out The Saints are back, how we're going to earn respect to recruit members?'

'Excellent! Just please, let me come with you…!'

Gat sounded excited like a child on the way to Disneyland, but suddenly I heard a melodic voice pick up the phone and cut us in, suspicious:

'Hello?! Johnny you just got out of jail! If I hear you're trying to go back by doing some stupid shit..!'

Gat made a face and quickly covered the mic with his hand, busted.

That was his girl, Eesh.

Not officially a Saint, but most of the gang adored her.

For my part I loved and feared her.

Me and Johnny, we were just noisy brats next to all the elegance and wiseness that was Aisha. I've always laughed on the inside every time I saw the toughest motherfucker on earth that was my best friend, bend into an obedient puppy whenever she got mad. But truth to be told, she had some sort of weird authority over us... And if she pulled my ear, I obeyed too, cuz I felt that not only she was a much better person than me, she was also right most of the time.

I guess it all explained why he was so quick to pull his sweetest voice and feign surprise:

'Hello sweetheart! No! The Boss and I are just going to hit the fast food and I might take a bit. You wanna something?'

Silence.

I knew Aisha was hesitating to decide if she believed his story or not.

'Hmm. Ok then... Tell her I say hi.' She said, not totally convinced.

Truth to be told, Eesh wasn't suspicious for nothing: She knew that when we got together we did such a bunch of stupid craziness that one of us risked losing an arm, a leg, or our lives altogether.

That day, for instance, we went downtown to get a load more of whiskey and stole a quad bike. We thought it would be fun to make zig zag between lamp posts while wasted.

This time I had the idea to roll the Toad over the train rails as we saw the train approaching. As long as the actual road was just next it was fine, but the thrill felt too good and we pushed it. Soon we were driving over the suspended bridge, the whole city appearing at the horizon, wind blowing wildly and the slight mistake meaning instant death.

We've felt extremely alive whenever we were pulling crazy shit like this, and needed extreme stimulation often. When you play with the limits that lead to death often, you learn to appreciate those tiny things in your life and to live for the here and now. Any worries that would stop you from enjoying the present moment mean shit after that.

Johnny was having a great time on the back, and true to his form, gave a more than surprised conductor the finger as we drove off, chuckling in delight.

When a bit of road appeared, connecting to the rails, I drove away but the landing was less than perfect. I am a terrible driver, most of my driving skills come from the Demolition Derby, and was more often used hitting stuff rather than avoiding it.

The Quad's front wheels were caught in a bump of the road, the violent impact threw me and Gat out. We went flying like two little birds and landed, to our luck, over some grass.

'Wow! That was cute...' He said, helping me to get up. 'You really don't know how to turn without making a power slide, now do you?'

'The Toad is dead.' I inspected, casually wiping a bit of blood from my forehead with my cuff.

Our day out had just begun so we kept our eyes open for a nice car we could do stunts with.

We took a walk to the high end stores on the fancy side of the city, and made our choice with a black and shiny sedan in the mall's parking. Gat broke the window with one punch and I slid to the other seat while he wired the car.

At this point we were totally fucked up so it seemed like a great idea to something we never dared to consider sober:

Back in the days when we thought Troy was one of us and our friend Lynn was still alive, the four of us used to go this tiny, cheap bar at the trailer park district. That place had a variety of abandoned structures and construction sites that would make any stunts man's paradise.

In particular, there was a high detached bridge that was never completed, but that no one bothered removing from the ground. It looked like the long neck of a dinosaur coming out of the earthy grounds.

Johnny and Lynn often loved to discuss car maneuvers while me and Troy got drunk and we all bragged about our driving skills. Every time we went to the bar we watched that ramp from the window and promised (bulshiting, of course) that one day we would jump that shit.

Remembering this we drove our new sedan to the trailer district, trusting the idea.

When we aligned the car right in front of the bridge, Gat and I looked at each other, hesitating, and when we realized how high that shit was, it suddenly didn't seemed like such a great idea anymore. But that was the fun of it.

I glanced at his face, bitting on his lower lip fiercely and even if Johnny always held his shit together really well, I was pretty sure that he was feeling the same expectation I was. My breath was altered, stomach had a sinking feeling, it was all anxiety. My hands were weak and digging on the leather of the seat under me. My heart pumped blood so fast I could feel the pressure in my veins.

I closed my eyes as he put the car on reverse and gained distance to speed up towards the bridge, holding my breath.

Gat didn't even wait when we had enough space, he accelerated so we couldn't think it twice.

The car shook from the speed and I opened my eyes in the moment I felt things tilted up and we kept going towards the nothing at the end of the bridge.

It was like time slowed down. The falling sensation on my stomach was overwhelming. Our vehicle literally flew away.

The next thing I recall was a fierce hit like an earthquake, Gat screaming something like 'Shit' and the world turning upside down.

Without thinking and with the lag from the alcohol, we both forced the door open and jumped outside.

We knew what was going to follow.

Me and my friend escaped just in time to turn and see the black sedan with its four wheels pointing up, consumed by flames.

I remember I said to Gat as this sigh gave me a strong craving:

'Do you have a smoke?'

He was half lying on the floor and laughed his ass out at those words. Wasted, I grabbed the pack of cigs he tossed to me and laughed too, so much my sides ached.

But immediately I got sick from all the laughing, turned to my side and puked.

I don't think I've ever heard one motherfucker laugh harder in his entire life. Gat came closer to check on me as I wiped my mouth, and only then we took notice that a bit of his shirt was on fire. Naturally, I laughed hysterically like a bitch to see him drunkenly rolling around the ground to put it off after making fun of me.

After we calmed down, a bit of good sense came back and I worryingly patted over Johnny's clothes with my hands in an attempt to clean them, asking:

'Shit. Now how are we going to explain those burned clothes to Aisha?'

'What would you rather have on your man's shirt? Burns or a lipstick mark?'

'Good point.'

'Nah, she's still gonna kill me.'

'That fancy store "Impressions" it's open at this hour. We could buy an identical shirt, or hold the store altogether, your call.'

'Fuck.' He smiled. 'I knew you were my best friend for a reason.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The continuous alarm was hitting on our nerves, but it was not like we've never done this before.

I twisted the clerk's arm and forced his face down to the counter as the piece touched the back of his head.

Gat started to pick up the cash, the nice clothing and the bling from the store. He opened the largest leather bag he found on the window and started to toss everything inside, randomly bitching about the abusive prices of Stephan's creations.

'Yo, uptight staff. What size would you recommend for a vest?' He asked the terrified clerk as he stood in front of the mirror, casually.

Only after a few moments the hostage had the courage to stutter an answer, and keep doing his job despite the situation:

'For you, sir? L would be perfect.'

'Bulshit!' Gat reacted, pointing to his pecs. 'If I work my ass on this babies its not to hide them.'

I laughed, mocking my friend:

'Seriously Gat, he is right. You wear your clothes way too tight. Do you put them in the machine to shrink?'

'Oh, fuck you Boss! And what about you and that miniskirt? You should watch out when you sit like a dude, everyone can see your underwear.'*

'Bullshit.'

'Oh yeah?' Then answer this: 'Why do you only wear them pink Boss?'

I was standing in my usual way but upon hearing it crossed my legs in a feeling of self awareness.

'Oh, fuck... Really?'

Johnny chuckled.

'Not that I'm complaining. It's not bad to look at.'

'Fuck off. Wait 'till I tell Aisha 'bout this.'

Gat scratched the side of his mouth while his mocking smile dissolved a bit.

'Don't.'

We took our time to chose from the fine design articles. Whenever I saw something that I liked, I asked him to pick it up for me. He would ask my opinion on jewelry for Eesh as well. It was kind of like shopping, but without the long lines and worrying about the credit card bill.

When it was done we rushed to the back door where we regained the crowd coming out of the train station. We tossed the bandanas we used to cover our faces away and calmly mingled with the rest of the people.

Gat looked at me and we hit our hands together in a friendly hand bump, proud to be back.

'This promotional tour was fun, but we should get going.' He said after a while. 'I am gonna call my contact. Shaundi will meet us there.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Sshhh, quiet Gat! God damn let's not give them a heads up!' The Boss cursed lowly at his friend and poked him angrily with her elbow.

Gat just had the last swig from the bottle of the hard stuff and threw it against the wall, causing it to shatter in a thousand pieces.

The place they were had terrible acoustics for been undercover. One fart upstairs probably echoed as high as a bomb in the underground of the old mission house.

It was an abandoned and decrepit church, the paint on the walls was cracked and loaded with tags, here and there on the rotten wood floor, piled trash and debris of the furniture that belonged to the church.

'It's kind of a shit hole.' The Boss whispered, unimpressed.

'True dat. But is a shit hole with potential. Check that out.'

Gat's contact, a beautiful blond girl with pot head allure named Shaundi, looked around to make sure they were alone. She pushed on a broken baptismal font, revealing a concealed door and passageway towards the underground.

'Would you look at that. This is huge. I would never have guessed there was all this space down there.' The Boss glanced at the large and well illuminated tunnel, finally convinced that maybe this place was perfect to be turned into a new HQ.

'How come they built all that under a church?' Gat asked their guide.

'They didn't'. Shaundi explained as the trio started to climb down the wooden stairs. 'It was the church that was built on top of a hotel after the great earthquake of 49. This part of the city went below sea level and they found it easier to just build things on top of the old neighborhood… Oh! Shit.' She stopped herself with an involuntary shiver as they reached a door with a green gang tag on it.

Two snakes sliding through the mouth of a skull.

It wasn't pleasant to look at, and Shaundi, as an ex-member of The Sons of Samedi, knew that the gang in question was everything but pleasant. They were mostly Jamaican, and honestly, insane voodoo bangers. The image of a stomach-turning ritual she witnessed while she rolled with them flashed in her imagination.

'Don't worry Shaundi.' Gat put one reassuring hand on the shoulder of his prison pal. 'They'll be dead before they know you led us here.'

But he interrupted himself and quieted down. There were voices coming from the hotel below.

'We're going in. Here.' The Boss slipped Shaundi a semi automatic pistol.

'I never used one of these, you know…' The hippie girl confessed to The Boss.

'You gotta be kidding me.' She looked at Gat, pissed, and he shrugged.

'She is amazing in tactics, you'll see.' He guaranteed.

'She better.' The Boss shook her head grumpily and charged Shaundi's gun, holding the pistol in the girl's hands between hers. 'Here. If someone approaches, you just point and press the trigger, but for fuck's sake keep yourself at cover.'

'All right.' Shaundi replied with a relaxed smile.

The Boss found this easygoing attitude a bit too relaxed for the situation they were about to face, but got it as soon as she approached Shaundi's face and saw her super red eyes:

'Wait a sec. Are you high?!'

'Yeah, you want some?'

The Boss shook her head hopelessly, kicked the door open and the shooting started.

'Our comeback is going well so far…'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Anxiously, Carlos tapped his fingers over the side of the public phone he was using, waiting for The Boss to pick up. It rang endlessly for the third time and he was about to give it up when she finally picked up.

Carlos expected to hear her voice, but instead was surprised by a chain of loud detonations on the other side of the line.

'Jesus, what's going on over there?'

'We're taking over the underground… Hang on.'

He took his ear further away from the speaker to avoid the unpleasant sound of more bullets coming out of the Boss' gun.

'Will you die, asshole?!' He heard her shout, and when there was silence she resumed their conversation. 'Phew, done. Sorry. Never needed so many bullets to take out motherfuckers before, I swear! They take like, forever to die!'

Carlos had known some members of the Sons of Samedi while he was in jail, where he heard some pretty weird rumors regarding the gang:

'Actually, there is a bit of a legend about that. Back at the big house people said that their voodoo rituals granted them endurance and pain threshold…'

But The Boss wasn't interested in the supernatural, in fact, she was more focused on the practical side of bringing the Saints back together. She scolded at his answer:

'Honestly, Carlos. Who believes this bullshit? Bring your ass back to the old mission house, we need help dumping the bodies.'

She cut.

'So much for my first assignment.' He thought as he hanged up the phone and entered Bruno's car. Even if he was a bit disappointed with himself at what just happened, he couldn't help but feel a lot of excitement about becoming a Saint.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Under the mission house there was a whole part of the city that survived and got separated from the surface. A little forgotten world of its own: Empty stores, a square with a fountain, and an entire hotel that we were quick to choose for its commodities. It had no water though, which meant no working WCs and no showers. The walls lost most of their panting and the floor was cracking. It stank of abandonment. Only by a grill from a high tunnel that surrounded the place, some light from the street came in.

The hotel had a big salon decorated with a broken greek statue and large stairs, where we were all reunited.

My heart shivered with emotion as the applauses, whistles and screams filled the room when me and Shaundi grabbed a spray and drew a tag with our symbol, a Fleur de Lys, on the wall.

The underground now was officially the Saints HQ.

Home.

It felt like that even if we just moved in our stuff. Maybe it was because Gat was there with me, and once again people dressed in purple after a long time.

Full of hope and ambition, I watched proudly over our new crew, even if for now, they were no more than a dozen.

They were occupied with the initiating rite: In order to become a Saint you had to got through a hand to hand fight with five other members. It didn't matter if you won or got beaten, as long as you endured it. We all went through it. Needless to say, Gat was the one in charge for it, as he didn't care if he was on the delivering or receiving end of the punches as long as here was violence involved.

My attention switched as I saw our new contact come in. Pierce was a tall African American, with some build and dressed in sports clothes. He came closer followed by Carlos, both had some bruises indicating they had been already jumped in.

All our Lieutenants were reunited so we started our first official briefing.

Pierce was quick to cut in and speak before the others:

'So here is the deal, we'll have to fight our way with the three gangs that control Stilwater now. You won't regret putting me in charge of The Ronin, Boss! I can see you trust my potential since this Japanese crew rules half the city…!' He gloated and I frowned, already a bit pissed at his personality.

Indeed, there were yellow dragon tags everywhere I went. They seemed well organized, even if Shaundi told me that their weak point was their leader, whom according to an ex of hers that bartend at his favorite bar, was an air headed metrosexual with little talent for gang leading.

Let me tell you also that Shaundi exes were a thing on their on. It amazed me that half of our info came from that source. I would ask the Lieutenants to get me inside what was on with the gangs, drug deals, hideouts, cash incoming. She would always be the one to give me a time, a place, names and say to my awe: 'I know this ex that…' or 'I have an ex that is in the…'

Holy shit. Back in the day we had to kill or torture people, risk our skin for lesser than that.

This girl was a golden acquisition for The Saints!

In less than 20 minutes she gave me more info on what was going on in Stilwater's gang scene than Pierce could in 20 hours. I saw how he comically couldn't hide his jealousy.

Just then I took notice of Carlos, who was in the background and didn't say anything so far. He just watched, shyly, listening attentively to everyone and hesitating to say his mind. His shirt had sprinkles of blood and his knuckles were injured, but I never saw him happier.

Even if I was highly concerned about business had to get out of it to grin at him for a bit.

'Carlos.' I said with high regard, asking for his advice and inviting him to join the conversation. I wanted to show him that he was as much of a Lieutenant as the other two, a man of my trust. He needed to gain more confidence, I knew he could succeed once he cleared those issues. 'What is your view on The Brotherhood?'

His eyes looked for mine and he started more confidently:

'So, those truck freaks, they're also tattoo lovers, but don't get fooled: The town is in their got their strings all over the sports, at the arena, and the demo Derby. The Brotherhood owns way less territory than The Ronin and The Samedi, but they hold it for years and never lost a hood once they got it under their control in nine whole years. Pretty fucking impressive if you ask me. Maybe we could try an alliance first and see how things roll, rather than having to fight a gang like that.'

I nodded and once each Lieutenant was assigned with a gang we fired some rounds on the ceiling to mark our comeback and started a little celebration with some party favors me and Gat bought with the money from the store we robbed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Carlos gladly opened another beer and while he cheered with his fellow Lieutenants, he still couldn't believe it. He was in.

He remembered the surprised look Johnny had on his face to see him amongst the lieutenants. But anyway, Gat merely nodded to greet him. He was relieved, then promptly forgot about it to curiously check the place and the other gang members.

Kind of easily he and Pierce got to chit chat and turns out in spite the fact that the Lieutenant was ridiculously full of himself, he was also pretty bright and knew how to keep interesting conversation.

Gat, over the side as he watched the party, was thinking though: How come The Boss, from the top of her experience chose this kid to be a first hand Lieutenant, with the task of commanding a war over a vicious gang like the Brotherhood? Gat knew Carlos from jail, that he was actually intelligent, more than Pierce or Shaundi in his opinion. Under that insecure facade he knew that he had balls and instinctively respected him as an equal but, the ex-inmate looked up to everyone here as some kind of groupie. He had no confidence nor ambition to pull leading a crew. He thought she was doing a mistake to give that huge responsibility to someone like that, and was going to point it out for the Saint's own benefit.

It was the end of the night, Shaundi and Pierce got back to their homes after chillin' and briefly talking about some details concerning their responsibilities. Most of the new canonized members also left, apart those few who were actually had nowhere to go and from now on would live at the hideout. Carlos was amongst them, he had been crashing at Bruno's tiny studio and thought that it might be better to make a nest there.

The Boss was chatting with Johnny for a bit, discussing the next moves and then decided to head for her bedroom.

'So, about this Carlos kid...'

But Gat got interrupted as Carlos called her middle way up the stairs.

'Boss?' He asked shyly, eyes on the ground. 'Hm, could you help me moving my stuff from the car?'

She seemed tired but as she turned her head to see who was speaking, her expression changed and she nodded friendly:

'Sure. Have you picked a room yet?'

'Yeah, well, I thought it would be ok...'

'Course it is. This is our home now...'

'Are you going to sleep right away? Cuz I thought you might want a beer.' He handed her a bottle, keeping another one for himself and looking at her anxiously as if desperate to prove he knew how to be of service.

'So?' She said on purpose to please him a bit and put him more at ease. 'Officially a Saint Lieutenant tonight. Your brother would've been proud.'

The Boss took a gold watch from her pocket and closed it herself around Carlos wrist. 'A little gift from "Impressions", for busting me out.'

Gat immediately understood it was useless to say a thing. She liked this kid, the kind tone she almost never used with anyone was obvious. He felt the need to respect his best friend's and boss' decision and decided to say nothing, but couldn't help but think that her affection for him was blinding her. Well, could he really have something to say when he too actually covered up for Carlos a few hours ago? There was something disarming about this kid, maybe the way he was somewhat vulnerable and eager for praise. Or that weird and sweet charisma he had and that imposed itself whenever he entered a room, making him own everyone on it. It didn't slip through Gat's perception that The Boss was the one most affected by it. Indeed, he knew her for a long time, and was surprised that he never saw her been all kind and displaying affection like this with anyone. However, he was pretty sure that she didn't have a clue that this kid was obviously infatuated with her or she wouldn't have opened her guard like that.

Carlos went to fetch his stuff and gave The Boss a brief grateful look.

'Thanks. Yeah, I he would.' His voice was smiling.

They kept talking bit as they moved the stuff from the trunk of the car to a tiny room at the beginning of a long hallway.

It didn't take more than one trip to bring all of Carlos belongings. He lost most of his stuff, and just like her was starting from scratch.

'Well, this is it.' She said, dropping the last satchel over the bed.

'By the way Boss, this is yours.' He opened a zipper bag and handed her a leather jacket.

She smiled as she identified the object, pleasantly surprised, putting it over her shoulders as she caressed the leather. 'Wow, I didn't think I would see you anymore, baby.' Her gaze turned to Carlos who was grinning, satisfied with her reaction. 'That is why I couldn't retrieve it.'

'Sorry I beat you to it.'

'Carlos this is great.' She thanked, putting a hand on his shoulder as his pale skin turned tomato red for a moment.

'Nah. It was nothing…'

'Hmm, so… Try not to party so much tonight. I have work for you and everyone tomorrow. We need to do something about this shithole, get the water going or something.

'Good night. And Boss?'

'Yup?'

'Thank you.'

She winked back at him:

'Later.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Carlos had his eyes wide open, head in the pillow, at one of those moments you're dead tired but so damn excited about something you try hard not to sleep just to enjoy the sensation a bit more.

Funny that, ever since he could remember, going to bed would usually wake up this brief bout of melancholy. Something inside him would sting as if it was missing something. But now he noticed, surprised, that this sensation wasn't present that night, but rather a great feeling.

A lot changed in a few days, maybe that was why? From jail to freedom, from having nothing to being named a Lieutenant in the gang he so often dreamed about belonging one day, even if as a wannabe. From having an empty heart to, now, this was weird...

He stared at the gold watch he had left at the nightstand and thought:

The Boss... How important she had become in his life in the space of a few days. It was like, now he belonged to someone, even if it wasn't quite clear in his head.

He decided to classify it under 'loyalty to his gang leader' and leave it there, not ruining the all perfectness of this day with too much thinking.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day The Boss woke up around 10 am, for the first time under the roof that now would be their new home.

If her room was a bit bigger than the others, the condition was just as shitty.

At least she had a bed now, a private bathroom even if it didn't work yet. The only way to take a shower was to use a hose connected to the sole pipe that actually worked on that place. The water was stone cold, but who cared, access to everyday hygiene compensated that.

She dried herself on the Freckle Bitch's shirt she won with her menu the other night and that she wore to sleep, put some new, purple clothing, and headed for the main room.

She waved as she passed by Carlos, who was already up taking care of the place, removing any useless shit that accumulated there, then sat on an old and thorn armchair.

'Morning Boss!' Pierce said as he came in, handling her a newspaper.

Gat was leaning on the bar, a beer already in his hand.

'Johnny, look. We're at las sociales de los pobres** again'.

Gat poked his head behind her shoulder, then sat at the corner of the couch:

'I luv when we make the crime section. Move your ass.'

They approached their heads to read the article:

'Saints Resurrected!'

Gat folded the newspaper, satisfied.

'So, what's our next step?'

'I say we start by crippling those Ronin, keep their territory and their profit.'

'Pierce told me about a casino, I'm thinking, easy cash couldn't be easier.'

'You think we could take them?'

'Blindfolded, Boss.'

Pierce couldn't help but notice that they were really close, and pretty much alike, but also in the complementary sense. Sometimes opposites attract, but in this case alikeness did the job pretty well. One was always extending and continuing the other's actions with perfect synchronization, like the two legs of a same person, walking forward.

Seeing them planning and talking about stuff they wanted to accomplish gave him the impression that, together, Gat and The Boss were not only much stronger, but also invincible.

Johnny was even more capable than her, probably more than anyone that he knew. Alone he was kind of a rebel without a cause, focusing more on making trouble than in a precise objective. That changed when they met.

The Boss had the undying thirst and ability to take and take more, and also the boldness to do accomplish the impossible.

And now these elements got combined... The Third Street Saints were born again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

*If you ever played a cutscene in SR2 with your female character in a skirt, you'll know what this is about. XD

** Social columns of the poor, slang for crime section.

Hope you are enjoying it!