Speed looked up through hazy, pain-filled eyes then coughed, spitting out blood in the process. He could barely hold himself up. His entire body was on the verge of collapsing and probably would if he took another hit.

'Maybe I shouldn't walked this far,' he thought idly as two more blows fell upon him. One landed directly on his jaw and the other across his back. His body unable to take any more punishment, he collapsed to the ground.

At some point since his arrival in Philadelphia, Speed resumed wandering around with no specific purpose. His heart continued to hurt with the words Trixie had spoken to him, the final nails into their relationship's coffin. He still had not been able to figure out how his girlfriend could have seen him in New York City or how Sparky could have seen him in Philadelphia. He had been home the entire time. It was not physically possible for such a thing to happen, for him to be in three places at once. He did not believe he had an identical twin roaming the world, not unless someone physically altered his appearance to resemble Speed.

Such thoughts were only now coming to Speed, moments after the attack on him had begun, an attack he had not seen coming. Before he could comprehend what had transpired, ten men surrounded him, baseball bats and crowbars in their hands. Someone behind him struck him first, a sharp pain erupting in Speed's lower back. From that point, the attack worsened. If they were not hitting him with their weapons, they were grabbing him and hitting him, sometimes slamming him against the cold bricks of the closest building. Now they were holding him up yet again, their leader in front of him.

"No one trespasses in Black Tiger territory. Not without paying the price," the man said, striking Speed for . . . he could not even guess the number of times he had been struck, and they allowed him to hit the ground yet again.

He should have fought back from the beginning. He should have begun to fight back then but all desire to survive had fled Speed. He just lay there, gasping and wheezing, and made no move to fight back. A steel-toed boot landed on his temple and he remembered no more . . .

* * *

"Hey, Sparky."

The red-haired youth looked up at the mention of his name and saw Trixie wearing a flattering black cocktail-style dress. Her dress accentuated her body very nicely. She looked dressed to kill, and Sparky could not refrain from letting a low whistle out as she approached him.

"Damn, Trixie. Hot damn, even! You look good. I bet you'd knock Speed out, wearing a dress like that!" he exclaimed. "Did you wear that when you met Speed for breakfast? Geez, he wouldn't even be able to resist you in that dress! How did it go this morning, anyway?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Trixie scowled, folding her arms. "And I don't ever want to hear Speed's name mentioned ever again."

"What happened, Trixie?"

"I broke up with Speed," she snapped.

"What?" Sparky's jaw dropped. He had known for some time that Speed intended on proposing to Trixie. Indeed, Speed intended to use the time they were on their vacations to prepare for his proposal. Sparky knew what Speed's intentions were for his best friend had told him, but the mechanic never thought she would react like that. "Didn't you like his proposal?"

"Proposal? What proposal?" she demanded, her hands now on her hips.

"Speed told me he was going to propose to you once you got back from New York," Sparky stated. "Even told me when he was going to buy the ring and a new suit just for the occasion. Don't tell me he got so nervous he could barely talk!"

Whatever anger she had been feeling visibly disappeared from her face. Sparky wondered what had brought it on in the first place.

"He was . . . going to propose?"

Sparky nodded. "Yeah. I saw the suit he was wearing. He looked very dapper . . . " He narrowed his eyes. "If he didn't propose to you, why did you break up with him?"

Her anger returned. Trixie's cheeks turned a faint shade of red, and she appeared ready to rip someone into a thousand shreds.

"Because I saw him in New York!" she spat. "That's why! Not only that, but he was with some dark- haired floozy! He couldn't keep his hands off of her, the cheat! It was disgusting to see!"

"That's odd . . . I thought I saw him talking to some guy in Philadelphia," Sparky commented. "They were looking underneath the hood of a truck, but he told me he'd been home while we were gone."

"And you believed him?" Trixie scoffed.

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I believe him?" Sparky asked, confused. He knew Trixie possessed a jealous bone where Speed was concerned, but he never thought it would get the better of her to the point where she would call off their relationship.

"Typical," she snorted. Now Sparky grew angry. He could not believe she was behaving in such a childish manner. Of the two of them, she probably knew Speed the best. If he intended to end their relationship, he would not take off to a city where she would be vacationing just to start an affair with another girl. The way Sparky saw it, if Speed wanted to end their relationship, he would flat out say it to Trixie, instead of buying new clothes and an engagement ring.

"He is my best friend, you know," he snapped. "He's never once lied to me or to you, and I doubt he'd start to now. He has no reason to do so."

"You don't know that," Trixie shot back. "You don't know what he's capable of doing when he sets his mind on something."

"Yes, I do know that he wouldn't lie to us," Sparky retorted. "I also know this. Speed is crazy about you. Always has been so you tell me why would he be sneaking off to New York to kiss and be with some other girl when all he has ever done is talk and dream about you? I know he's dreamt of you because he's told me! I can't believe you wouldn't give the benefit of the doubt! What is wrong with you?"

Before she could answer, Sparky stalked off, a dark cloud hanging over him. Now he knew why Speed had looked glum earlier. Trixie had jumped to the same conclusion that he had, only he had given Speed the benefit of the doubt. Trixie had not, and, because she had not, she had ended their relationship. The news had to devastate Speed, and now Sparky wished he had not called off that practice session with his friend.

'Poor guy. Probably didn't even get a chance to propose or to show her the ring. I better go see how he's doing. Hopefully he hasn't done anything too completely stupid.'

Sparky headed for the Racer home, his anger at Trixie growing slightly. How could she have not given Speed a chance to explain? They had known each other since they were five! She should have known! Okay, so every now and then Speed became flustered whenever he met a pretty girl. Despite the fact he was a generally outgoing guy, Speed found himself at a loss of what to do when introduced to a pretty girl. He confessed as much to Sparky one night when they had gotten together for pizza and a movie. Speed's self-confidence slipped away, and he basically became "dumb" when trying to speak to a girl. Trixie was the only girl who invoked his confidence. Because she invoked that confidence in him, Speed felt he could love no other girl the way he loved Trixie.

"Hello, Sparky," Mom Racer greeted as she opened the door. In his anger, he had not realized he had arrived and knocked on the door. Apparently, he had knocked rather angrily for she asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Hey, Mrs. Racer. I'd like to talk to Speed . . ."

"He's not home," the Racer matriarch frowned. "You mean he isn't with you? He told me he had something for you, and I thought he had practice today . . ."

"He did, but he looked a little worn out," Sparky quickly explained. "I suggested he get some rest then left." He did not want to be the first one to tell Mrs. Racer that Trixie and her son had broken up.

'Not my place,' he told himself, noting the pale look on Mrs. Racer's face.

"Are you going to be okay, Mrs. Racer?"

"Just fine," she murmured. "Come on in, Sparky. I need to make a phone call."

He stepped inside as Mrs. Racer made her way to the phone. She looked worried, in Sparky's opinion. It was as if she knew something was wrong with her son, which did not surprise the mechanic. From what he saw of Speed's relationship with his mother, the two were close, more so than what Rex and Spritle were. It made sense she would sense something wrong with her son. Little did they know Speed was no longer in the area.

* * *

Their work was done, Philip thought with mild satisfaction as he gazed at the prone form on the ground. Blood pooled from the young man's mouth and nose, and his eyes were undoubtedly swollen shut, and he struggled to keep breathing. There were many cuts and bruises to his entire body, thanks to the beating he and his gang delivered to the young man. If he were to ever regain consciousness, he would know better than to walk into Black Tiger territory, showing off his blue eyes, ever again. Philip despised almost anyone with blue eyes; some women were the only exceptions to his rule, and only because they were actually girls under the age of fifteen and not women. Granted, it was not the fault of those who were born with their eyes blue. Philip knew as much, just as he knew it was not his fault his eyes were brown, but it still did not stop him from loathing anyone with blue eyes. There was something about that particular eye colour that just drew people to that individual the same way a fly was drawn to honey. He walked over to the young man.

"I'd like to say it was nothing personal," he said, kneeling next to the young man. He pulled out a long, wide-bladed knife, "but it would be a lie. And my mama taught me to never lie. The truth is, I just didn't like you, you and your pretty blue eyes."

He pressed the flat of the blade against his victim's throat. Something about this young man had unnerved Philip, the way he stared with lifeless eyes as he and boys delivered the beating of a lifetime. It was almost as if he did not care if he lived, and the thought disturbed the gang leader. The idea disturbed him so much he ordered his boys to not search the young man's pockets. Chances were he had no money on his person and certainly no valuables. There was no need to loot someone who had nothing.

"I hope this becomes a lesson to you," Philip continued. "I could have my boys rob you, but I don't think you have anything we want, if you have anything at all."

He stared a moment longer at his victim, hearing sirens in the distance. They were drawing closer to his location, which meant someone had called the cops. He immediately withdrew his blade from his victim's neck and rose to his feet, smirking the entire time.

"Here's hoping, you blue-eyed freak, that we never meet again."

With a final kick to his victim's stomach, Philip ran off, disappearing down the alley.