In the front of the school, there was a grass area near the entrance that I would usually lay down under enjoying the shade. Nate had told me to wait there until he came back for me with the car.
"Petey, are you even listening to me?". I wonder who it was as their voice came back into earshot.
"Oh yea, sorry, I hear you". My best friend, Belle, had been ranting to me about her shitty ex for about ten minutes now but me being me, thankfully, I can retain something I hear word for word even if I'm not actively listening.
"It's like she's so fine but so fucking STOOPID!".
She had the habit like my brother of talking with their hands and tensing her fingers near each other in a strangling motion but I laughed it off breaking the tension so she could smile a little.
"I know how you feel". I reply in an attempt to empathize. "How could you though? Like you've been shacked up with literally the nicest person in the school besides you and on top of that, she's built like a Ficken hourglass! Pete, I can't specify how lucky you are that she's straight.".
I chuckle at her, breaking a smile, but return to my resting sad face.
"I had another panic attack…". My eyes stared at the blue sky in hopes the site would bring me more comfort. "I know...you space out more after you do but it's...fuck me, not this again.".
My head turns to her in confusion but lift myself slightly to see what she was looking at to see it was Damien, the most insufferable narcissist I've ever met, the Leader of the Salt gang, and his family is worse.
"Stay fuck away from Erika, you slut!". The stereotypical American footballer stood there, fist balled, clear voice booming directly at her but quiets down as he glanced down at me, taking in my presence.
"Look, I told her to make things up with you but instead she came onto me. Shit happened and it's not my fault.". She shouted back in protest with his body language getting more aggressive.
"I don't give a fuck what happened, She's Mine, No one touches what's mine.". He stepped closer to them with eyes of daggers. "Dike".
"What the fuck did you call me?". As quick as she rose to defend herself, she was returned to the grass by a crisp blow to the face, leaving a red mark.
I manage to catch her before she hit the ground completely, leaving my jacket where I had my head and staring him down.
The basic bitch of a jock was four inches taller than me but looked to be towering me given his more so skinny appearance and surprisingly great posture.
"Peter-fucking-Pan. I'm not scared of you or your wannabe gangsta of a brother and frankly I don't why anyone even is afraid of you, to be honest.".
Admittedly, I had two choices here. Stay quiet and walk away or sock him right in the throat and then these ribs, but I'd decided to choose option C since I was in a relatively good mood.
"I honestly don't either". I smile and laugh lightly. "It's Pannel but I think all of this may be a huge misunderstanding so let's just leave it at that and go our separate ways, how about that?".
He smirks to himself and comes close to whisper something.
"Let's see how misunderstood she is after every man on the team gives her a little demonstration of how it feels when someone else touches what's not theirs".
"...Touch her and I'll kill you". My hands began to shake in anger till he grabs my tight undershirt and took a shot to my jaw then released my collar and struck me with that same hand, bringing me to my knee.
"You 'Lost boys' were always a bunch of pussies". He stood over me with an immense feeling of false superiority, spitting on the ground in front of me and walking a few paces away to face me again.
I maintain my bearings, stumbling to my feet, and fall into my boxer-like stance ready for a rumble.
We come towards each other; He flows a small combo at me sticking me with the first but I slip the second after.
He became cocky and let his pride go to his head after he dropped his guard to talk shit but quickly regretted it.
Taking a deep breath and raising my fists, my eyes narrow and scan every kill shot, letting him throw shot after shot to no avail until He threw one with all his weight but I stepped back, missing it by a hair, leaving his body open...big mistake.
Twisting my hips guiding my fist to his lower ribs with him screaming in pain after and becoming sloppy as his confidence wavered.
Sticking and moving was the best option but worked like a charm. Damien grew angry like a mad bull tossing another knockout blow towards my head but instead, I grab his arm, throwing him over my shoulder, landing on his arm.
My bloodlust grew hotter like a fever in a moment as his cry of pain from his broken arm didn't leave nearly as much satisfaction that I craved.
His body on one of his arms and the other free, I squat to straddle him at his level before he throws a weak blow that I catch and fold under my arm. My eyes grew colder as I stared into his filling them wide with terror in anticipation of what'll happen next.
Without hesitation, I started to whale on him, making sure to use my left so it wasn't strong enough to break his jaw but fast enough to slowly fracture it.
Blood on my fist began to drip like ink on a page ruining my shirt and getting on the edge of my thunderbolt tattoo on my arm that partially showed under it.
I went to break his nose but felt a stern hand grab my bicep before I was close enough to connect. Rushing to my feet, I gear up to fuck up whoever was behind me, throwing a kill shot but stopping in my tracks and snap back to myself at the dark king that stood before me unphased.
"Get in the car, Peter…".
Nate broke my spell of wrath with only a look and four words but was unbothered after a glance at the sight of my defeated opponent laying there unconscious and barely breathing.
He stood there, legs spread apart with his hands behind his back, and handed me my jacket as I passed him with my head down. I noticed that Belle was standing a couple of feet behind him, assuming she was the one called him.
As I made my way to his jet-black Camaro, I see him still standing there as two goons beat the poor bastard a bit more, both dressed in an ink-colored jacket identical to mine and unlike Nate's though.
He had the typical large X-mark on the back but his white stripes on the sleeves and a small symbol near the bottom that kinda looked like...a hook.
Twenty minutes later*
Belle sat in the front with me in the back, seated in the middle, dead center as I could be, sinking further down after a glance from him in the rear mirror.
He never cared if I got into a scrap, just that I never drew too much attention to myself on my own and hurt them too badly.
"Pete, I know you have it, Give it to me.". I hand her a small silver switchblade out of my pocket that I swiped from her bra after she'd been knocked down earlier by Damien.
It was better that I tried to talk him down than my best friend going down for murder. The beating I gave him was justifiable and merciful...at least that was what I tried to convince myself anyway.
Belle steps out after we park in front of the house with my house key in her hands, going in, probably to lay on my bed as per usual.
"You're being promoted". Nate said taking the keys out of the ignition." You're not an associate anymore, you're a messenger now bud".
"What?! Why?!".
I hissed at him but lower my tone after a look. "Well, after that little 1v1 I figured it'd be best if you started putting in some work. That way you can stay protected by my side and can pay back the rest of those Salt boys after their leader disrespected you.".
Nate, like Damien, was a Captain. Everyone who knew what was best for them answered to him, told me that the X on our backs made us targets and it 'marked the spot' but said to never ask him his moniker even though up until today, because of me, was rivaled with a bozo who called himself 'The Salt King'.
"I didn't ask for this...I don't want it and I took him out because of self-defense, that it". My chest grew tight and I grew upset.
"Do I look like I'm asking you, Pete?". His voice quickly ran cold but softened after he took a breath.
"Look, I wouldn't put you in a position where I didn't think you could succeed and this should be within the limits of your anxiety so I'll be monitoring your mental health as always. You're gonna move information back and forth between contacts and even do a couple of jobs for me on the side here and there, tell Wendy and there'll be consequences, you do good then you'll be a soldier, Now go inside and I'll get dinner started after I make this call.".
I unbuckle my seat belt and get up to get out but stop as I pull the handle. "And Peter...don't disappoint me.".