It was all Kain's fault. Stupid Kain. Stupid, stupid, stupid Kain.
Abel sprinted through decaying buildings and filthy alleyways to La Familia's lair. Because that was where Kain was, and that meant it was where Abel belonged, no matter what. Even if Kain was leaving Abel behind to do the dumbest thing he'd ever done in his /life/ -
The run-down brick building La Familia used as their headquarters loomed over Abel, and he ducked inside an alleyway before the two lazy-looking guards outside noticed him. One of them raised his blank, cow-like face and moved it up and down the street; Abel pulled himself behind an overflowing dumpster before the idiot saw him. All Kain's fault. All of it.
He considered going to Marie. La Familia was nothing before the Howard Connection. With the right word they could be swept away like trash in a hurricane, and Abel had access to the women who could drop that word in the right ear. Well. He probably had access. If he could convince the guards he really was Marie's little brother like he basically was, and if she was still allowed to see him when she was locked up in that tower. It was a lot more possible than what Kain was doing.
No. No way in hell. He was a man now, and strong, and he and Kain were going to change the city. He didn't need to go begging at Geese Howard's feet. He didn't need Marie to comfort him anymore. The next time he saw Marie it would be to rescue her. He and Kain had promised.
He should've made Kain promise to wait until they were bigger. 13, maybe. But Kain had hared off to catch Don Papas' eye as soon as he could toss sparks from his hands and it had worked, and the next thing Abel saw was Kain getting in that smooth black car and the only thing he could do was run after it all the way to here.
It wasn't a surprise Don Papas liked Kain. Everyone knew the Don liked beautiful things. Art, women, kids...
Stupid Kain.
Abel knew he wasn't pretty like Kain and Marie. His hair stuck out like straw instead of laying flat and golden, his nose was too big, his eyes were a muddy sort of green-brown instead of bright, eye-catching red, and he didn't have a lick of grace in his whole body.
But he was strong. Strong enough to break bricks, strong enough to lift Kain and himself, strong enough to take on full-grown men and win. Men like those stupid guards.
Don Papas wanted strong fighters? Fine. He'd get the very very best. And no matter how long it took, he'd learn in the end. Kain and Abel would carve their lesson into his body.
Southtown could only be ruled by the strong.