Ugly and Lewis had been walking back from Brooklyn when they'd been intercepted by Beezle, one of their fellow gang members. He'd directed Ugly to haul ass to the corner outside Black eye's Pawn Shop and sent Lewis to the East Side to tell some girl that Roan wouldn't be able to meet with her tonight. Ugly had darted through the streets as the sun dove beneath the buildings, offering up the darkness as a haven for their sins.
Ugly had found Roan and Kyro sitting on the stoop across from the Pawn Shop, hidden from view by a trash bin brimming with waste. They regarded her without a word. Roan lit a cigarette and kept his eyes trained on the Pawn Shop. Ugly sat down on the stoop next to Kyro. He was staring off into the distance, seemingly unaware of her. They all sat quiet and still as people buzzed around them, racing to get inside as darkness blanketed the street. Ugly watched the city be transformed by the night. This was a bad part of town, without streetlights. The children and old maids were replaced by shady looking characters with sharp faces.
Ugly was watching a frail old man shuffle through the trash, taking up empty bottles of wine and tipping them back, hoping for one last drop, when Roan turned to her and placed a shotgun in her open palm. It was the gun she'd picked up on the East Side, but it was shined up and the beginnings of a dragon had been etched into the new silver handle. It was nearly transformed by Roan's skilled hands. Roan gave Kyro a pistol and a knife. Roan never carried weapons on a job; he liked to make things exciting. Roan stood up and walked toward the wooden door of the pawn shop. Ugly and Kyro followed silently. The curtains of the shop were drawn shut over the glass windows. Roan tried the doorknob; it was locked for the day. He knocked.
"We're closed!" A voice crackled from within.
"Black eye, buddy, you wouldn't think of locking me out?" Roan called back, his voice laced with a growl. There was no answer, but something fell to the floor behind the closed door. Roan shoved himself angrily off the door. "Jesus Christ!" He exclaimed, "Ugly, blow the goddamn door in." Ugly quickly surveyed the streets, all clear. She stood back and blew a hole right through the door, close to the knob. Roan immediately snaked his hand through the door, yanked out the bolt and kicked it open.
Old Black eye was rooted to his spot behind the counter, mouth agape. Black eye was one ugly bastard. The right side of his face was concave, and the eye was sunken in and rimmed with purple. Roan marched right up to him, grabbed him by his snarly graying hair and yanked him over the counter in one foul swoop. Black eye crashed to the floor; his good eye wide in terror. Roan paced the floor as Black eye shakily stood up. Ugly and Kyro stayed by the door, watching.
"Black eye, baby, sweetheart, you've been hiding something from me," Roan crooned wickedly.
"I ain't been hiding nothin'! You hear me, nothin'!" Black eye yelled, defiant and desperate.
Roan stopped pacing and looked directly at him. "Don't you fucking lie to me!" he demanded. He charged toward him. "You've been trying to cut me out, you lousy son of a bitch." He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and glared at him with eyes as dark and hot as coal. Black eye began to tremble in his hands.
"If you kill me, you'll never find it, you'll never find it!" he protested. Roan shoved him against the counter and turned to Kyro.
"Kyro," he ordered and Kyro walked behind the counter. He opened up one of the drawers and pulled out a large canvas sack. He peeled back the lid to reveal blackish leaves. Roan grinned at Black eye. Black eye's old, bony body was quaking like he'd been strapped into an electric chair.
Roan watched as Kyro fingered a leaf and Black eye seized the opportunity. He curled down and reached into his waistband, pulling out a knife and aiming it at Roan's throat. Roan reacted immediately, grabbing the dull blade with his hands. Black eye backed up, shocked by this self-wounding action. What kind of crazy fuck grabs a blade? Blood seeped down both of their arms like bright veins.
"Black eye, don't" Roan warned under his breath. Black eye didn't listen. He pushed the knife forward and Roan released his hold. The knife flicked Roans skin as Roan took both hands and shoved it down. He pushed his fingers through Black eye's bony grasp and rotated the knife, then plunged it into Black eye's warm chest. Hot blood poured over his torn hands and Black eye collapsed to the floor. He was yelling out in pain. Roan dropped to his knees and yanked Black eye's head up by his hair. "Who's you source?" He demanded. Black eye squealed in pain like a pig in the slaughter. "Tell me! Who's your goddamn source?" But it was no use; Black eye was a good as dead. Roan stood up and moved away as he writhed in pain on the floor. "Ugly, send 'im ta hell," he ordered calmly. Ugly took aim and mercifully shot him straight through the heart. Unearthly silence followed.
"Jesus! That was fucked up," Roan exclaimed, examining his bloody hands.
"Yous don't think the bulls will have heard?" Ugly asked, anxiously. She always felt nervous after a killing.
Roan shot her a look. "You just plugged the fucking door five minutes ago, do you see any bulls?" He demanded angrily.
"It's just that now we got a dead body on our hands," she mumbled, turning red.
"Yeah, we do," Roan said, regarding the blood-drenched carcass as he wiped his hands with a rag from the counter. "Goddamn stupid fuck, now we're gonna have to keep a watch on this place to see if his source stops by. And to make sure the bulls don't get suspicious."
"I don't think any one'll give fuck that this scumbag is gone," Ugly remarked. Roan gave her an approving look and she felt redeemed.
Kyro had already dug into the abandoned pot bag and was rolling himself a cigarette. Roan came over to join him, his right hand now wrapped in the rag. He examined the goods as he rolled his cigarette. "This is some nice shit; it's from the goddamn Himalayas," he commented. Ugly nodded like she knew what he was talking about.
The boys finished making their cigarettes and hopped up on the counter. Roan wiped his hair off his face, causing the crusted blood on his forehead to crack. Ugly lit a normal cigarette and sat on a stool, trying to force her frayed nerves to quiet. "So," Roan said loosely after a few good puffs, "let's hear the Conlon report."
Ugly thought back to her experiences this afternoon. They seemed a million miles away. "It was a no go," Ugly said. "He refused to pay."
Roan nodded, just as he'd expected. "Tell me about this kid," he asked, amicably.
"He said he and his newsboys don't answer to no one," Ugly reported. "He was proud as hell." She tapped her cigarette on the edge of the stool and watched the ashes fall.
"Pride is a deadly sin." Roan commented. The smell of blood was enflaming Ugly's nostrils.
"He said Brooklyn is his territory," Ugly said. Roan regarded her and slowly exhaled thick, grey smoke.
"I gotta meet this guy," he commented. A wicked grin flashed across his lips as he leaned back and enjoyed the effects of the drug.