Jack from the Row

by Jack Saint

Nathan is a fifteen year old teenager, revolted by the world and its justice. Brilliant, intelligent, cold and taciturn, his destiny is turned upside down when he is accidentally recruited by the Third Street Saints, a street gang that preaches for a better world for the Saints Row ghetto. For the best and especially the worst.

8. 1-7 : Live fast, die young

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Chapter 7: Live fast, die young.

November 1995 - Mission Beach - Saints Row.

Home of Tamara Whitaker and Nathan Collins.

"And I am not sorry, and I am not sorry

This is what you deserve

And I am not sorry, and I am not sorry

This is what you deserve

And I am not sorry, and I am not sorry

This is what you deserve"

That Sunday afternoon was well underway when Tamara returned home, exhausted from her two jobs. With Oliver in her arms, she was immediately surprised by the unusual smell of the place. A strange mixture of alcohol and another unpleasant smell.

Tamara wasn't expecting anyone and there didn't seem to be any sign of a break-in. She knew that there was only one other person who had the keys, her oldest son.

He hadn't told her that he was coming for the weekend, and that annoyed Tamara, who went up the stairs after dropping Oliver off in the living room, thinking she would find her oldest son studying in his room.

She was surprised to see that it was dark in the room, which was totally unusual for Nathan, who was not the kind of person who slept or hung out until ungodly hours.

Tamara quietly opened the door and stepped into the room. Her foot hit a pair of jeans on the floor from which Johnny's famous condoms, which he had reserved for Aisha, escaped.

Tamara picked them up off the floor before she realized what they were. She understood better why her son was here, but she didn't like the fact that he thought her house was a brothel and opened the shutters wide to tell him how she thought.

The sunlight blinded the boys and they woke up in pain.

- Holy shit," Jack exclaimed, shielding his eyes.

- Maybe it's time... Tamara began before turning to the bed.

She was surprised to see her son, not in the company of a girl as she had imagined, but of another boy who looked as scantily dressed as he was.

- Hello," said Johnny, a little embarrassed as he put his glasses back on.

Tamara was stunned.

- Is that your sister?

- Nah, she's my mother," Jack replied, covering his head with his pillow.

Under the shock, Tamara left the room without having been able to pronounce a word.

- Damn, she looks mega young your mother! On the other hand, she didn't look good.

- She's crazy, let it go. I have a fucking headache. I feel like throwing up.

- Yeah, I'm not well either.

- And I'm tired, I want to sleep...

- You're paying for your excesses, man. It was a crazy night last night. I can't believe you're not a virgin anymore.

Tamara's suspicions were confirmed as she waited for a few snippets of the conversation between the two teens.

- I'm gonna go home. I'll see you tonight?

- Nah, I'm going to boarding school later.

- In this mood?

- I'm still sleeping, I'll go later today. I have to take a shower and get my car from your place.

- Okay, I'll leave you then, see you tomorrow.

- See you tomorrow Johnny.

Johnny gathered his things and got dressed before heading down the stairs. He passed Tamara and wanted to say hello.

- I hope we didn't make too much noise last night," he tried to put on a brave face.

Tamara's face broke down and she saw in Johnny a horrible creature who had debauched her son.

- Out," she said simply.

- Uh... Yes, ma'am.

The young man didn't ask for anything else and almost ran out of the house.

Barely later, Jack found the strength to get up and take a shower. He was also hungover but had no regrets about his evening. He felt like he had lived more in one night than in 15 years of his life. Jack enjoyed the warm water running over his skin for a while before he felt a strange pain in his neck. He had completely forgotten his tattoo done the day before...

A little refreshed, Jack went down to the kitchen where he started to prepare a coffee. He felt a small hand pulling his pants and it is tenderized, that he gave a small cake to his brother who left all happy to eat it on the sofa of the living room.

- If your father saw you... Said Tamara, in the frame of the door.

- From what I understand, he doesn't want to see me, so that's fine.

- You know, Nate, I've always found you a strange boy. Taciturn, cold, clearly autistic, but then faggot, that I never imagined.

Jack turned around with a raised eyebrow.

- Faggot?

- I understand some things about you better. You're nothing but a disappointment to me.

- What are you talking about? The only disappointment you have is that you were weak by sleeping with an asshole who got you pregnant, don't mix it up.

- Your school called. Are you skipping school?

- Maybe.

- Are you having fun, you idiot? And where do you sleep at night? The boarding school reported several of your absences.

- And I can see that it hasn't alarmed you more than that, so leave me alone with your two-bit morals," Jack answered while stirring his coffee.

- Nathan, can we talk normally for once? Tamara said.

Annoyed, with a headache that wouldn't stop, Jack didn't want to argue with his mother, but he knew she wouldn't let him go that easily, so he turned to her after having thrown his spoon noisily into the sink.

- What?

- Herode is paying for your school and boarding extras, so please go there as agreed.

- I'm going, I've just been away for a few days, it's fine. It looks like the world is ending!

- And where do you spend your nights? Getting laid by that boy who was in your bed?

- I don't get laid by boys, you're delusional!

- I heard you talking! My God, even having a normal relationship with a girl is impossible for you. But what's wrong with you in the end?

- It must be my education. You know? The one I didn't get from my parents.

- You make me feel so ashamed.

- But I'm not gay. He just slept here, because we were drunk.

Tamara, raised in a pious and conservative environment, could not imagine worse news than knowing her son was gay. Jack understood this very quickly and found a totally unsuspected way to drive his mother crazy.

- If I want to get my ass fucked by guys, that's none of your business," Jack provoked, looking his mother straight in the eyes.

The slap Jack received at that moment extinguished forever the last hope he had placed in his mother. She was incapable of loving him for who he was. He was just an object - not even a human - that served her interests. The school, his studies, all of it was just a way for Tamara to have another career through her son and to be able to say that despite the fact that she had him at a young age, he had succeeded in life and therefore by extension, so had she. She had never cared about his well-being, his desires or his dreams while he suffered viscerally from this lack of recognition and love. True or not, this story of supposed homosexuality revealed his true nature and Jack was fully aware that it represented everything his mother could not stand. This slap intended to humiliate him was a salvation in this stage of rejection. She would never love him, that was a fact.

- What a satisfaction to see you realize that I will never be your puppet, said Jack with a big smile.

Before Tamara could really get upset, she noticed the fleur-de-lis on her son's neck. She grabbed him by the jaw to turn his head.

- What the hell is that?

- A fleur-de-lis.

- I've seen thanks. And you want to play politics with a royalist symbol, that's fine, you're even dumber than I thought. Why don't you erase this ridiculous drawing?

- It's a tattoo dear mother. It won't come off.

Surprised, Tamara made the same gesture to look more closely at the drawing and realized with horror that it was indeed a tattoo.

- But that's not possible. But you're only going to do something stupid? You look like all those street punks.

- Of which I am one.

Tamara did not understand immediately.

- I'm a member of the Third Street Saints.

- That's not possible," Tamara laughed nervously, not knowing how to react to all the announcements of this prodigal son that were systematically worse every time he opened his mouth. You stink of alcohol and cigarettes, you smell so much of vice. You make me and the whole family so ashamed!

- Which family? My dad's with the drunk uncle who pretended to be the tooth fairy before throwing up on my bed while I was sleeping or yours with your principles and your famous values that you are the first to transgress? I'm curious.

Tamara hates to be reminded of her failures, she knows for a long time that she was the shame of her family by being a teenage-mother and had invested all her energy in making up for it by raising her two sons alone and by taking on a series of odd jobs and night classes to finally have an acceptable status in society. If she was finally starting to be respected today, it was after years of bullying, sacrifice and humiliation.

- You always mess up. You're going to end up badly and you're the one responsible.

- Am I responsible? Who got dumped by her husband to be left alone to raise her kid in a shitty neighborhood?

- Don't go there, I warn you. You make your bad choices without anyone's help.

- Oh yes, it's true that you don't have any responsibility!

- I did what I could to raise you Nathan! I've borne the shame alone!

- You didn't raise me. You just placed me around and picked me up when you had no choice.

- I had to find a way to survive. We had nothing Nathan. We had nothing! Your father ruined us with his legal fees. At least with these people, you had food and shelter. You don't know what I went through in between.

- Because I didn't go through anything? Are you kidding? Do you know what I went through being placed with the Robinsons? Have you forgotten what they did to me?

- I think we've been over this.

- No! No, mother! We never talked about it! Because you never wanted me to tell you! It's easier to pretend it never happened than to accept that I was put through hell because you put me through it! Tapped the teenager's fist.

- We don't need to rehash it. You were 9 years old, and the judge ruled that you were in self-defense. I know it was a hard time for you, but you weren't the only one who kept track of this story.

- Are you kidding me? Nathan asked in amazement.

- I have done everything for you. But you are too selfish like your bastard father to see anything other than your own existence. Always crying about your own fate, always believing that you are the only one suffering.

- No one forced you to spread your thighs in front of him if he was such an asshole. It's easy now.

- I was thirteen years old Nathan... I was stuck, what could I have done?

- If you hated me so much, you could have aborted me.

- I tried! Tamara shouted.

Jack stopped bragging, surprised by this announcement.

- I had tried at the time. I had taken medicine that supposedly would make me miscarry, I punched my belly, I tried to get a back-alley abortion, but nothing. Nothing worked, you hung on and I never got rid of you! My parents made me keep you, but I hated you! I hated you! You can't imagine how much I wanted you dead! I wanted you to die! But you couldn't even do that. Everything would have been so easy without you. You couldn't just die? You ruined my life, and what's worse, I end up with the perfect look-alike of the man I hated most in my life. Every time I look at you, I see him, and it disgusts me in a way you can't even imagine! The more you grow, the more I see him and it's unbearable for me!

Tamara's words went beyond her thoughts and underneath the violence, Jack looked at her distraught, mouth agape. His mother realized that she had broken something in him and after a long silence, Jack looked down and shook his head before bursting into tears. Tamara tried to make a move towards him but the teenager dodged it.

- I hate you, I never want to see you again, Jack said, sobbing.

- Nathan...

- And my name is no longer Nathan, my name is Jack from Third Street Saints.

- What is this now?

Jack didn't bother to answer and went up to his room to get his things before unlocking the front door so he could leave.

- You need money... ? Tamara asked, hoping to recover for it a little.

Jack did not answer or even look at her.

- Nathan... Stop acting like a child, it's okay. That's not what I really meant.

- Yes, it is. It's exactly what you meant.

- I'm moving out sooner than I thought, Tamara finally told him. Maybe you and I need some time away from each other to think things through. I'll leave the house to you, do what you want with it.

- I don't want it, I don't give a shit about this shitty house.

- As soon as the papers for your emancipation are ready, I'll leave town. I'll leave you my contact information.

- I don't need it. You can die, I don't care.

- Herode and I will continue to provide for your education. Your uncle Daryl and his wife live nearby, so if you have a problem, they'll be there quickly, they've already been notified.

Jack didn't care. All he heard was that he was going to be alone, his mother having found a legal way to stop taking care of him for good.

- Nathan... You and I are definitely going to hurt each other. It's better this way. You won't have to go to homes or foster homes anymore. You'll be the sole master of your life from now on. I'm sorry, but I can't do more for you under these conditions... I'm at the end of what I can give you.

- Goodbye Tamara, he said coldly before leaving the house.

Tamara sighed, feeling as relieved as she was confused. She couldn't love him more, their relationship having started too badly. But she didn't wish him unhappiness and seeing him leave in tears broke her heart.

He was only 15 years old after all.

It was already very late at night and while he was quietly relaxing at home watching a movie on TV, Julius heard someone pounding on his door. He got up, not expecting a visitor.

- Who is it? he asked through the door.

- It's Jack," said the voice on the other side.

Julius was surprised but opened the door immediately. Jack was standing in front of him, looking very different from what he usually did. His hair was almost disheveled, his shirt was wrinkled and his eyes were red and puffy. He looked exhausted and out of breath, as if he had just been running, but more importantly, he had a gun in his hand and his clothes had significant blood spatter. He had been in a gunfight, Jul had no doubt.

- Son... Julius said softly, "What's wrong?

Before he could answer, Jack nodded his head to indicate that he was not, and then he began to cry again. Julius didn't ask him anything, but hugged him tightly. Jack let go and began to weep in torrents of tears from his lack of understanding about his existence.

He had never asked anyone for anything.

He was not responsible for his mother's mistakes.

He just wanted to exist like any other human being.

He suffered deeply from not being loved by anyone.

Julius understood this and let the teenager cry against him for a long time, cradling him like any loving father would. Jack didn't talk about his misfortunes; Julius didn't need a reason to be there for him. He dried his tears and invited him in.

- Can I take a shower? the teen asked.

- I was going to ask you. Take your time, okay?

Jack nodded and went into the bathroom where he undressed. Completely naked, he looked at himself in the mirror for a moment. He hated the image he was giving off, he thought he was too skinny, not tall enough despite being only 15 years old. Nothing was enough in his eyes.

After a short time under the hot water, Jack joined Julius who was busy cooking. The smell of cooking was permeating the house.

- I hope you're hungry.

- Yeah, I'm starving.

Julius smiled and invited him to sit at the table where he served him copiously. Julius once again watched his protégé devour before his eyes.

- You know Jack, I just got a call from Troy.

- Oh well," he pretended not to understand.

- I heard there was trouble at Prawn Court. There's talk of a chase between a yellow car and a purple car.

- The Kings.

- Yes, no doubt, what's left of them. They were massacred. There were five of them in a brothel, four in the car, none survived. The last one who tried to escape was apparently hit at high speed, his remains are not pretty.

- They got what they deserved.

- Does this trophy case belong to you?

- You're the one who said we should take them out, no matter what.

- Jack. Jack, my boy. I know what I said, and of course that's a good thing. But what worries me is that no Saint knows about it.

- A purple car has to be a signature of the Saints.

- Thank you, I understood that. No, what worries me is that you went alone. And that, Jack, is a real problem.

Jack stopped eating and had a little trouble swallowing.

- What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?

- I'm still here.

- That's good. You can't take on the Kings by yourself, boy, it's suicide. What was that all about?

- I don't know. I wasn't really thinking.

- That's what I blame you for! Jack, you're undeniably smart, cultured and talented, but this is a real screw-up. You don't take on a gang alone, simply because you can't. You can't handle it all by yourself, no matter how much you believe in it or how motivated you are. I have plans for you, but they involve you staying alive, you know?

- I was like possessed, I don't know why I did it.

- Dex told me that you were dating Aisha's sister, did you do it for revenge?

- No. Not even close.

- Then what motivated you? Nobody does this by accident and you know you didn't have anything to prove in the gang anymore. So why did you do it? Didn't you care if you died tonight?

Jack hesitated and looked at the contents of his plate, which he was pushing around with a fork.

Earlier in the evening, after leaving his mother's house, Jack questioned his existence and why he was rejected by those he viscerally needed.

After walking the streets for a long time without finding an answer, Jack returned to his car and started the engine.

Aimlessly, he wandered around the city, music blaring, driving too fast, his hands clenched on the steering wheel.

"You're watching the makings of a physcopath

The truth didn't last

Before the wrath and aftermath

He was angry with the whole world.

All his past came back to him, his near abandonment from birth, his foster homes in which he had been placed as a child, and the abuse that followed, his return home with his alcoholic father. The guilt of having denounced him and of having destroyed the family. The boarding school, the bullying and the confinement.

"Who's that behind the trigger?

Whose do you think!?

A mutha-fuckin night gangsta

Ready to buck and rip shit up

I had enough and I don't give a fuck

The whole earth will pay.

Totally by chance, Jack arrived at Prawn Court, a poor and unsanitary neighborhood in the Red Light district. It was a well known area for casual sex enthusiasts, the streets overflowing with cheap and unfriendly sex shops, bars and brothels.

The Vice Kings occupied the scene by controlling a good part of the traffic, led by Tanya Winters, with the money she made from prostitution.

Although there was never a good reason to put girls on the street, Tanya was particularly despicable in this human trafficking, since most of her girls were simply kidnapped and drugged before being exploited.

She was a despicable, disgusting, vice-filled being and on top of that, she was part of the enemy gang.

After her abduction, Dee-Dee had spoken of a particular place where she was to be "formatted" in the words of her captors. Jack remembered this and it didn't take long to find the address: The Raykins Hotel.

In the night, he stopped his car in an alley and got out, with his gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. He found himself in front of the building, just as he had imagined. A gloomy building, of red bricks that time had put to hard test. A garish pink neon sign with the name of the hotel blinked at irregular intervals, as if he too had lost all hope in this place.

Like an automaton without the slightest feeling, Jack entered through the door that led to a sort of disgusting kitchen that served as a reception area where three men were sitting smoking and playing cards. They were surprised to see a young boy come in like that.

One of the men stood up, intending to throw the troublesome guest out, when Jack pulled out his gun and before he could say a word, shot the man in the skull and he fell to the floor. Immediately, the other two reacted but Jack was quicker, and with an impressive coolness, he killed the second one before pointing the last one.

- Wow, man... We can work this out," said the man, holding up his hands.

- Tanya Winters.

- What?

- Where is she?

- She's not here. She just comes by from time to time to pick up girls, but she hasn't been around for a long time.

- So where is that fat bitch hiding?

The man hesitated, and Jack's patience disappeared instantly. He shot the man in the leg and he screamed.

- Shivington! She's hiding in Shivington!

- Be more precise.

- In the abandoned police station. She runs her business from there.

There was no reason for this man to change his story, as long as he told the truth, and Jack shot him in cold blood. He stepped over the dead bodies without any compassion and went upstairs to the building. He soon arrived in a hallway, which led to rooms with open doors. In each of them were beds with girls lying in them. All of them, without exception, had IVs attached to their arms. The ones who seemed even slightly awake looked haggard, completely stoned. Jack was not very familiar with this kind of environment, but he was not naive enough to imagine that it could be anything other than drugs, injected without the girls' knowledge to get them high and keep them under control.

Stilwater was revealing its true face. That of a rotten city, controlled by scum, where the smell of piss and blood stank in the streets.

- Who's there? asked a voice from down the hall.

Jack reloaded his gun and prepared to fire. As soon as the man's silhouette appeared, he fired and the man collapsed, causing voices to break out a little further down the hall.

Without thinking, Jack took a quick step forward and went to meet them. There were five men left, all dressed in yellow, who were more surprised than anything else. Not expecting a head-on confrontation, the Kings hesitated, and as a result, lost another of their members who fell to the ground, splattering the walls with blood.

Jack and the remaining Kings exchanged gunfire, but not knowing what was happening to them, the gangsters escaped up a fire escape to the alley below.

- Get in the crate, there's more of them! yelled one of the Kings, not quite sure.

- Is it the Five-0? asked another.

- I do not know! Start the car!

Braves, but not foolhardy, the young Kings started in a hurry, without trying to understand who was attacking them. Obsessed with his mission, which he considered almost divine, Jack shot at the car before it was out of reach. He, too, climbed out the window, climbed down the ladder, and ran to his car with the firm intention of fighting back.

Still at Prawn Court, the Kings were worried.

- Damn, this is weird, nobody answers the Raykins.

- You know, it was a cop raid.

- I think it was the Carnales.

- Why? We don't fuck with them, why would they come after us now?

- I don't fucking know! Who was that guy? He wasn't wearing any color, it could have been anyone!

- That's what I'm saying, it was a cop!

- We need to warn Mr. King, this sucks.

Before they could call, the windshield of the yellow car exploded under the blows of several bullets coming from the back of the car.

- What the fuck! Fuck, speed up! shouted the VK in the front passenger seat.

But the driver didn't move.

- Are you asleep or what?

Slowly, the driver dropped his head, revealing a huge hole in the back of his head.

- No! The three remaining Kings shouted.

The car slammed into a wall at high speed, killing the King in the front seat instantly, completely crushed in the bodywork.

Jack parked his car nearby, taking care to reload his weapon. He walked slowly but decisively toward the remains of the car.

One of the men, alive but badly wounded, looked up at Jack who was standing right in front of him.

- What the fuck... Who the fuck are you... ?

He coughed up blood, he probably didn't have long to live without care. Jack simply pointed to the tattoo on his neck with his finger.

- The assholes on 3rd Street... Damn, King said you were harmless. You're pretty good whores to attack by surprise.

- I'd say you'd get over it, but you won't, Jack said affrontedly.

- You're just being smart because you and your buddies won a battle, but you're going to have a war.

- My buddies? Where do you see me having buddies? I'm on my own.

The King spat out blood and laughed nervously. Seven men had just lost their lives, because of this evil kid.

The car's tank was spilling gasoline all around the wreckage, giving off a very strong smell. Jack took a step back to keep his feet out of it.

- King is going to destroy you before you can even mistake your dreams for reality.

- We'll see. Meanwhile, go to hell.

Jack fired two bullets into the pool of gasoline before it burst into flames. The Vice Kings screamed, the flames eating away at his skin. His last sight was Jack, standing there with his hair blowing in the wind, looking at him with no apparent emotion on his face. The coldness of the boy was quite exceptional, in front of a dying man, he felt nothing, not the slightest compassion. The last King, also injured in the accident, managed to get out of the wreckage before burning to death and ran as fast as he could down the street. Jack watched him walk away before getting back into his car.

Breathless, with one arm broken in the accident, and in a state of shock, the King managed to walk away from the scene of the accident and picked up his phone with trembling hands. With difficulty he dialed a number.

- It's Kamar from Raykins. Fuck, we just got attacked, I think they're all dead. It was the 3rd Street Saints that did it, they came in like that and...

Kamar, the Vice King, didn't have time to finish his sentence when he was hit head-on by a car driving towards him at high speed. His body was lifted into the air, before falling heavily onto the road, which was stained with blood. In the phone, a little further away, one could hear a voice asking what was going on, without getting any answer.

The purple Ford disappeared into the night, without ever stopping.

Back in Julius' apartment, Jack continued to play with his food while his mentor waited for an answer to his question.

- Yes. I guess I didn't mind dying tonight. I just didn't want to live for nothing.

The young man fell silent, and Julius knew he would not answer any more of his questions. But that didn't suit him, he couldn't afford to lose one of his men so stupidly, especially someone as involved as Jack. He put it down to the ardor of youth, even if he suspected that there was something deeper.

Sitting across from each other, Jack and Julius looked at each other without question. Jul knew that the teenager would eventually come clean on his own and that he shouldn't be rushed.

- Why don't you have a child, Julius? Jack finally asked.

- I have you.

- But it's not the same.

- Think again. What is being a parent to you, Jack?

- Well... Well, it's a guy and a girl who have a kid...

- Yeah, that's the biological definition. But you think it's that simple?

- I don't know.

- You know, any asshole with a vagina or a penis can make a child. But that's not being a parent. Being a parent is raising a person. It's protecting them, providing for them, but most of all, it's growing them. But in the sense of pulling him up, helping him to reveal himself and to exploit his potential. The stories of blood relationships are bullshit, they've never been a guarantee of quality.

Jack seemed to reflect.

- You know, son, I've had kids like you before. I'm pretty sure you've been abused and mistreated in one way or another.

The room fell silent, but Julius stood patiently waiting for an answer.

- My father abandoned me. And now my mother is doing the same," Jack confessed with great shame and difficulty.

- Who takes care of you?

- Nobody anymore.

- But... You are old enough to be alone... ? Jack, how old are you? Really.

Jack looked Julius in the eye without saying a word for several long seconds.

- I just turned 15.

- Gee, you're still a kid," Julius realized. Look, don't worry. Whatever happens, you're not alone, you know that? The Saints are united and you're a big part of that.

- I know, but I hate it so much. Of everything. Of everyone on this whole damn planet," Jack said, shaking.

- I'm going to help you. We'll use your hate for something much bigger, trust me. You'll be the little brother here, we'll protect you, we'll raise you, you're part of the family.

Jack couldn't calm down, but he heard Julius' words and he had such a need to trust someone that he clung to that. Did he have a family that hated him? No worries, he would stay with the family he had chosen, and more than ever, Jack swore loyalty to the Saints by belonging to them, body and soul.