The Rage(34)

“Yeah, baby. I just lean up against the wall ‘n stare out the fuckin’ window.” Her laugh is soft, almost musical. It’s that laugh that gets to me. It’s so fucking hard not to stop and listen to her. I enjoy that shit.

“Sounds comfortable.”

“Fuckin’ smart-ass” Her eyes widen as her hands fly to her chest. A dramatic gasp leaves those lips, and I can’t help but wonder why is it that Lala can make me smile. I’ve got shit running through my head. I’m plotting deaths and shit, but here I am, laughing and smiling with her.

“Me?” she laughs.

“Yes, you.” Women. Never understood them, but I think I’m getting the hang of this one. Fuck, I hope so, at least.

“This is the bedroom.”

“Never would have known that, considering the bed is the only thing in here.”

That’s it. Coming up behind her, I scoop her ass up by the hips and toss her smart-assed mouth onto the bed, “Still feel like givin’ lip, babe?”

“Kinda like the no furniture look. I can decorate it.”

Whoa, whoa. Back the fuck up. This is not turning into that. Looking all excited and enthusiastic about the idea, I don’t tell her no, but she starts bringing in curtains and shit, I’m putting a fucking stop to it.



Lying in bed, Lala’s got her leg thrown over mine and her head propped up on my shoulder. We got the TV on, I got a smoke in my hand and a drink in the other. She fed me, and now we’re just relaxin’, watching shit TV.

“Rampage?”

“Lala,” I counter. She hesitates for a second. That brief hesitation’s never good.

“Why are you taking care of me?” Taking care of her? She’s not a fucking infant.

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re helping me. You gave me a car and a place to stay. Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why? Is it because we’re having sex?”

Not even fucking close. Sex is not a good enough reason to go through all of this shit. Sex with Lala is good shit, the best shit I’ve ever had, but it wouldn’t be the reason I do this shit. I started doing this shit before I fucked her, anyway. I’m not sure why though. It’s not like she’s broken or lost. I know she can take care of herself. Maybe for the first time in my life, I feel like I’ve got some sort of purpose, other than hurting people. Feels good to have someone need me, and I like that she really wants me. I’ve got a reason to do good shit for someone. For once in my life, I give a fuck about someone other than myself and it’s nice.

“Don’t know, Lala.”

“Well I hope you know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Wrapping an arm around my stomach, she tugs me close to her and sighs. Never in my life have words and a touch from someone hit a nerve. I’ve been called terrible shit. Bitches have told me they love me. I’ve been fucked over. I’ve had people do nice shit for me. None of it did shit for me. Lala says one thing, one goddamn thing, and that shit settles in my heart.





Lala

“Got shit to handle, baby.”

Rampage is tense. Sitting on the edge of the bed at the club, I watch him tug on his jeans. Throwing on a gray shirt, he sits down next to me to slip on his boots.

“You stay here, you hear me? Not a foot outside. Got some shit goin’ down so we’re on lockdown, baby.”

“Lockdown?” Narrowing his eyes, his face morphs into hard and serious when I ask.

“Yeah, Lala. Lockdown. Means your ass stays in this club. Not a single part of your body steps foot out this motherfucker, you got me?” Nodding, I feel a trickle of fear settle in. “No, baby. I need those juicy lips letting me know you got me.”

“I understand, Rampage.”

“I want your ass alive when I get back here.”

Following Rampage back into common area, I hear a woman hollering. Looking over his shoulder at me, Rampage groans and mutters, “Peaches.” I’m starting to learn that just her name means trouble.

Peaches is in the middle of the room hollering at Gin, hands flying all over the place, “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. What the fuck you tryin’ to get rid of me for?” Gin looks bored and tired. His head hangs down and his shoulders are slumped.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he sighs and looks over at Tank, “Help me out here because I wanna smack her.”

“Peaches, you’re goin’ whether you like it or not. You get no say. When you wake up tomorrow, alive, you’ll thank us, but right now, you need to shut the fuck up. I need you to help take care of my boy, so pack a bag and get in the goddamn car.”

Whipping her head around, she shoots daggers at Gin, “I’ll do this for Ty, but when I get back, I’m gonna kill you,” she hollers and stomps off.



I’m free to roam about the club. It’s big, but not nearly big enough to keep me occupied for longer than a few hours. It’s going on eight hours now since they left. Rampage and the majority of the guys left at 7 this morning. I’ve never seen them get up so early. It’s now four in the afternoon, and I’m feeling cabin fever set in. Only when someone tells you you can’t do something is when you want to do it. I really want to get out and do something.

“This is pretty boring.”

“This is nothin’. We’ve had lockdowns for days, weeks even.” Weeks? Nothing about that sounds fun or exciting. I really like being here, but I don’t think I like it that much.

“That’s insane.”

“You’ve no fucking clue. Insane doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“You girls whine to goddamn much,” Stitch grumbles. Him, Blade, and Happy stayed back with us. Some guys took off and some rode out to the mountains to get the kids somewhere safe, just in case. Stitch, Happy and Blade look as bored as we do.

We worked on schoolwork, we played pool, cooked some food, even baked a few batches of brownies and chocolate chip cookies. We painted our nails, drank some shots and had a dance off that ended in hysterical laughter. Now we’re all lying around watching scary movies. We’re all bored. I was surprised that Lil stayed instead of going with Ty. She said that she trusted the girls with his life, and she needed to be here for Tank, too. She felt a lot better when she got the call that they made it safely, and that everything went exactly how they had planned it.

Walking down the long hallway to Rampage’s room, I’m headed for the bathroom when I hear a loud bang that makes me jump, then silence. I stop and listen, but I don’t hear anything else, so figuring it’s nothing, I keep walking. I make it a few more steps and I hear it again, but this time it’s louder, followed by another pop. I don’t have time to process because suddenly, all hell breaks loose.

The lights cut out and I can’t see anything. My heart leaps into my throat and adrenaline starts to pump through my blood. My eyes fight to adjust to the sudden darkness, and I try to decide if I should go back into the main room, or go to Rampage’s room when gun shots ring out. I don’t have time to make a decision, I hear a woman scream and men shouting, so I creep my way back toward the main room. I watch for everything around me, adjusting my eyes the best that I can, keeping my senses keen and ready. I listen and pay attention, trying my hardest to make sense of what’s happening. My hand and body stay flat to the wall as I move slowly. The closer I draw to the main room, the louder everything becomes.

People are yelling, shit’s breaking and I hear more gun shots. In the darkness, the sounds are coming from every direction. Without being able to see, the noise and my unfamiliarity of the club makes it disorienting and hard to focus, but my feet keep propelling me on. My hands find the end of the wall and I know this is it. I can’t turn back now.

Peeking my head around the corner, I can’t see much. I know the basic layout of the room. I know faces, but silhouettes are unreadable to me. I see shadowed bodies, but none I can recognize, some standing, some crawling, and others moving about.

Two deafening pops are followed by flashes of light, illuminating everything for a brief moment before darkness falls again. Two big bodies hit the ground in the middle of the room. I have no time to process.

Over by the bar, I look hard and see that Stitch is on the ground. I hear Lil’s frantic and disembodied voice, and something clicks. I’m not scared. I’m not sad. I’m surviving. I’m moving on instinct now.

Stepping around the wall to a pool table, I crouch down behind it. Looking around a leg, I see Lil leaning over Stitch behind the bar. Looking up at me, her eyes are wide and wild when they lock onto mine. She starts to shake her head no frantically and pointing back to the hall, but it’s too late. I’m not leaving her here alone. Taking a deep breath, I dart over to her.

Her hand is pressed to Stitch’s thigh, and blood is all over her shaky hands.

“Lala? It’s alright,” Her voice shakes, but she’s okay. “He’s bleeding, though…” She says, but her eyes go wide when she speaks, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she pants. I don’t have time to respond. Someone rips on my shirt.

The neck on my shirt compresses to my neck, cutting of my air supply. I wiggle around, still crouched down while the person stands over me, tugging on my shirt, trying to pull me up to my feet.