The Orphan and the Beast

Ten

In the dimlitted open banquet looking room, sits one chair. Jack's head lay hanging over the back, blood dripping from open wounds. Don't anger the beast, he'd been warned before, now it had been time to learn.

TWO HOURS EARLIER

"YOU" - wham - "DARE" - wham - "THREATEN" - cr*ck - "ME!" -wham.

Blood flies with every blow from Rosco's fist.

"WHO" - snap - "DO" - wham - "YOU" - smash - "F*CKING" - cr*ck - "THINK" - wham - "YOU" - wham - "ARE"? Wham - wham

Blow by blow Rosco vents his frustrations. He's been slipping lately, letting his guard down. Let this be a reminder for all, including him, to never get too comfortable.

Bigger empires have toppled from neglect, always remember your father's words Rosco; 'We may be rich, but comfortability is not something we can afford.'

With one final bone-shattering blow, toppling Jack along with the chair he's tied to, onto the floor Rosco heads over to the sink.

Looking at his bloody mangled hand, he knows, in order to keep his girl then this has to end. To keep this empire then he must end whatever the h*ll he's got going on with Brittany Ah, even her name makes him quiver for more. Ending it now only saves them both the heartache later.

Washing his hands and untying Jack, he flops his unconscious body back into the trunk and heads back towards the City, his home.

Stopping back in the same alley he unloads Jack's beaten bloody body in the shadows, next to a passed out Tonya. "Her problem now" Rosco grumbles. Pulling away from the shadows he heads back to Tommy's, It's near 3am but he's got booze there and a cot tucked away in the back of his office.

Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock. "I swear imma kill whoever dare knocks on my door this early"

"Boss man, yo, you in there" comes Jerry's voice through the sealed door.

"F*ck off Jerry!" I boom back, "I had a late night cleaning up your d*mn mess, go the f*ck away!"

"Uh, okay man, but you know it's 4pm right? We got a couple runs to do."

F*ck sake, it never ends, does it? Peeling my a** off the cot, I curse myself for not going home last night, I could use a good shower right about now.

My hands ache today. Fingers are lacerated, bruised, and possibly broken. Dries blood still lingers, I'm not even totally sure it's all mine.

Gathering up my bloody shirt and jeans off the floor, I begin to prepare for another day in the life of a king pin.

Jerry and I cruise down the oh so familiar downtown streets, making drops and collecting the moolah. Craig didn't feel particularly inclined to join us today, I don't mind he'd probably end up in another slap fight.

The silence is broken by Jerry when he turns to me;

"Hey, uh, man, we're okay right?"

"Yes, we're okay Jer. It's been handled"

I can see he's gauging my reaction, tense, with his jaw locked he begins to inquire about Craig.

"Look, I know we screwed up last night. It really was a knee-jerk reaction that Craig had. He's sorry man."

"I know." I reply, "It's just I've build my entire empire on the principle that we don't hurt women. I watched my mom get thrown around and I've always said that those under me would abide by my code - protect the innocent, serve the dealers."

He nods in response, "Is Craig going to be okay?" he asks, I know he worries because Craig is like a little brother to him.

"He's fine as long as he keeps his hands off women, second offense, and he'll lose those damn hands." Chuckling, we continue on with our drops.

Late into the night we pull back up at Tommy's, Craig's DJing again tonight. I must admit he's pretty good for a knuckle-head with an iPod.

Entering the bar I feel instantly relaxed, my home away from home. Jerry steps away to relieve the fill-in Brad. Brads an okay guy and all, he comes recommended by Jerry - guess they did time together - but something about him rubs me the wrong way.

Brad is a 5'4, slender man who looks like a weasel. It always seems like wherever he is, trouble follows close behind. He isn't part of my gang, not yet at least, I haven't completely vetted him. Completely vetted includes finding out what exactly he's hiding.

With the bar under Jerry's control, I make my way towards Craig. We have some `air to clear` regarding last night. Craig began to fidget on the stage. He's clearly nervous. I can't say I blame him though, considering last night I whipped a glass at his head.

"Yo, Craig - Bro we gotta talk"

"Uh, okay...."

He's fidgeting from foot to foot, can't look me in the eyes. He must have heard how I dropped Jack - aka Hammer - off in the early hours this morning. D*mn word must travel fast. "Look, calm down man. We are all good."

You can see the relief spread across his face. With an acknowledging nod, I walk away towards the bar to get drunk after a successful Saturday.

Seven drinks in, it's 1am and I'm feeling hot and bothered. I'm going back and forth in my mind about what to do regarding HER. That chestnut-haired beauty named Brittany. I'm going to go there now and end things, once and for all.