Part 12- These Things by She Wants Revenge

Billy Darley walked swiftly down the block, followed closely by his friends. They walked with purpose and a sense of arrogance that never left them feeling short of superior. They weren't in their usual community of recreation and that left some bystanders a little wary of their presence. Billy wouldn't be surprised to hear the shrill cries of distant sirens soon. People always had to get worked up over nothing nowadays; they could never take care of themselves.

Never breaking stride, Billy pulled a cigarette from a crushed pack in his pocket and lit it, cupping a hand around his mouth. Inhaling deeply, he then let the smoke travel from his lungs into the cool night air, thinking about his latest encounter with Ramona. He wasn't sure he understood her. Of all the things a young, attractive girl could do with her time, she chose to chase around a bunch of men that she knew existed for destruction. She had seen firsthand the true gruesome colors of their corrupt souls. What bore her hollow is what gave them essence. They striped people of their pride, of their purity, and replaced in them the fear that they relied on; that they needed to in order for them to control. Yet she didn't necessarily seem to carry the same fear others did.

"What do you think? The skank aching for another confrontation?" Heco asked as they reached the two comparable mustangs.

Billy turned to look over his broad shoulder at Heco, his eyes narrowing. He cast his half-smoked cigarette into the street with a flick of his finger, embers still burning.

"Heco, what would be the reasonable thing for a girl to do: fight or flight?"

Heco's eyes narrowed into a glare similar to that of Billy's, scorching and determined. A lazy smile drifted up the left side of his face as he comprehended Billy's question. The crazy bitch had put up a fight the night of Joe's initiation, and although she had been quickly overpowered, she was apparently dumb enough to want a second one. The fun was just beginning, and he felt anticipation bubbling up inside of him.

"When?" He asked.

"Whenever she's ready, I assume. You guys think you can handle the suspense?" Billy asked with a joking grin.

"I think we can manage as long as she's the one giving the climax," Joe said, resting his arms on the hood in front of the open passenger door of the black mustang. Tommy gave out a wild cackle in response as he started making crude noises.

"Oh, mo-mo-mo-moooooonaaaaa!" He yelled into the night. Joe let out a snickering laugh along with the other guys.

"Enough dickin' around," Billy tried to sound serious, but couldn't help letting out a laugh too as the guys burst out in howling laughter at his retort. The guys disappeared into the cars, laughing and hollering.

This'll be too fuckin' easy, Heco thought as he situated himself inside the red mustang, grinning madly.

Billy climbed in behind the wheel of the black mustang, letting the engine roar ferociously to life. His hands tightened on the wheel as he sped off down the road, barely missing a car as he ran a red light. The guys flipped off and screamed at the screeching car with glee. The red mustang barreled past it in the middle of the intersection, meriting another blaring honk from the driver. Billy could hear them laughing maniacally as they rocked around their seats in wild amusement. Amidst all of the twisted joviality, he couldn't help but feel anxious anticipation at discovering what Ramona planned to do. It excited him. This was something completely different from their customary "street wars", as he liked to call them, where there could be a random drive-by of rival gangs, which were usually countered by vicious "warnings" from Darley and his boys, or when they had to collect overdue cash from dilatory customers. They weren't the type to lower their eyes in the face of a threat or take a step back for those unfortunate. And then there was of course, the occasional kill for a thrill which Mona and her friend happened to be two ill-fated victims of.

She was a first, and he was going to make sure he cherished every moment of what was coming.

After making sure I had been properly put to bed, Abby had left my room, but not my house. I figured she had either been interrogated by my parents or had been interrogating them. Whatever the case, I didn't like it. I didn't need anyone to be any more skeptical about me. I just needed the privacy to grieve and plan by myself without the input of someone else's opinion on how I should act and what I should do. I should have known going out with Abby would wind up as a mistake.

Now, the night after, I walked down a cold and lonely road, searching for a way to purchase my escape out of this misery I had buried myself in. I needed guns. Nice guns, but where would I find them? I had rummaged through my parents bedroom earlier that day while they were at work and I found my dad's small .22 caliber revolver. I contemplated using it, but decided six rounds wouldn't be enough unless I had fast fingers and exceptional aim, which I had neither. Plus, I didn't want my dad's name somehow tied back to the murders I was about to commit… or I hoped I committed, anyway. So, I was stuck in a rut with an 8 inch pocket knife, a nice roundhouse kick and small, but capable fists. Up against nine full grown men, I would be signing my own death sentence if I hadn't already.

I had deliberated over different ways I could purchase a gun, but came up short. I didn't want to wait to receive a permit to buy a gun from a legitimate shop. I needed something quickly. The only disadvantage I was taking with the idea I decided on was value and cost. That was buying them illegally. Who knew exactly what would be sold to me? It could look like a million bucks, but work like it was worth two cents and a pack of bubble gum. I'd just have to keep faith in my extravagant college savings to get me the good stuff.

So, back in the part of town that started this whole crusade, I wandered around, aimlessly searching for someone, anyone who could help me. I questioned just about every person who walked by me, so far with no results. This was taking a little bit longer than I was hoping, but what did I really expect. Just because I happened to be in the slums of the city didn't mean there was an illegal black market down here.

"Lookin' for somethin', sugar?"

Think again, I hoped.

I turned my head to see a young, scraggly man leaning against a brick building, bundled up in ratty clothing. The top half of his face was hidden in shadows from the hood pulled over his head, but I didn't have to see his face to know he was shooting me a leering stare. He rubbed the stubble on his square jaw with his thumb.

"Actually, I am. Think you can help me out?"

"That depends on what exactly yer lookin' for, sweetheart," his voice was deep and scratchy. He sounded like he had smoked a carton of cigarettes a day, but he looked like he might be into the heavier stuff. He looked like he might be able to get me what I needed.

"Guns," I didn't feel like wasting anytime with petty retorts. I was here for one thing and one thing only. The man's lopsided grin widened slightly as he pushed off the side of the building with one foot, approaching me.

"Guns? What's a purty thing like you lookin' for guns for?" He started circling me.

"My business. Are you going to help me or not?" I kept my eyes on him, making sure he kept a fair distance.

He stopped abruptly behind my right shoulder, bring his head down to look over my shoulder, "I think I can help you out, but for a price."

"I have money."

"Who says I want yer money?" His grin turned into that of the Cheshire cat's, nothing but teeth.

"How about you tell me how I can go about getting what I need and we can discuss payment methods afterwards," I suggested, looking up at him through my eyelashes in what I hoped looked a little bit seductive, anything to get this bozo talking. He responded instantly.

"Right this way," he gestured to a tiny alley way off to his right, waiting for me to walk in first.

"I don't know where I'm going."

"Of course you don't," he replied, before reluctantly dropping his hand and sauntering forward into the dark mouth of the passage. As soon as we were both shrouded in black, I could feel him stop in front of me and I knew what he had been planning.

As his arm swung out backwards to catch me in the head, I jumped back before bringing my foot into his stomach. He doubled over and let out a low grunt just as I my knee made impact with his face. He flew backwards, landing in a pile of trash. I grabbed him by his grimy jacket and slammed him face first into the nearest wall, keeping my right forearm against his neck and my knees digging into the back of his legs.

"Give me one good fucking reason why I should break your neck right now!" I yelled in his ear.

"Fuck you, stupid bitch," he panted, blood causing his words to come out gurgled as it ran down his face. I pulled out my pocket knife with my free hand and pressed it just under the bottom lid of his left eye.

"You know, by the way you were looking at me earlier I can only guess that having two eyes is important to you," I started to put pressure on the blade.

"Okay, okay!" He yelled in a shaky voice, "I know someone who can sell you some good guns, but it'll cost you."

"I've got the money," I growled, pressing the tip of the knife in just a little bit further. Any sudden movement of his head and he'd lose his eye forever.

"Bones Darley! He owns the body shop a couple of blocks from the Four Roses. He can give you what you need," he panted.

Bones Darley. Of course it had to come to this; the only way to defeat Darley was by the help of a Darley himself. There's no way I could just strut into his garage and expect to walk out unscathed with a handful a guns and a satisfied customer. I'd have to get someone to go in there for me.

"What'd you say your name was?" I asked the ruffian I had pressed up against the wall.

"Todd… Todd Lunsford," he gasped.

"Well, Todd, how about you help a girl out. Your eye for my guns. You willing to take the offer?"

"More," he said in a hard tone. Was he kidding me? I had a knife prodding his eye and he was actually going to demand more in exchange for helping me? I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Five hundred. Two-fifty before, two-fifty after," I bargained.

"Deal, now get yer fuckin' knife out of my eye!" He screeched. I removed the knife, but kept my hold on his neck.

"This is how it's gonna work, I'm gonna give you the first part of our deal along with additional money to pay for the guns, get the best he has to offer. When you come out, you come straight to me and I'll give you the rest of your money. If you decide to run away, I will fucking hunt you down, cut out both of your eyes and force-feed them to you. Are we on the same page here?"

"Listen, I'll do what you want. Just let me go!" He screamed the last bit, his anger rising at his inability to protect himself against a girl. I took a couple of steps back and he staggered from the brick wall, coughing and choking. He looked up at me with a hateful glare. I handed him half his money.

"Well, you lead the way then," I smirked.