The Rage(35)

“Up bitch!” Lifting up my arms, by some miracle, I manage to slip out of my shirt. I grab onto the barstool next to me for support, but I still land on my ass as my head connects with the bar. A dull thud and ache rattle about, but I can breathe. I scramble away on my ass, scooting along the floor behind the bar, trying to get away.

“Knew you’d be here, Lailah,” a deep voice says. It’s not a voice I recognize, but they know my name. “Lala,” Lil whispers, trying to find me.

“I’m takin’ you with me,” another says. He raises his gun, aiming it straight at Lil’s head, grabbing her hair, ready to drag her out of here. It won’t happen again. A sick memory floods me suddenly and that sick survival instinct I was born with kicks in.

“You’re gonna like it, you stupid bitch.” The overwhelming smell of liquor and morning breath assaults my face and nose. I try to turn my head, but the dirty smell of the couch is not much better with puke and stale beer. His hard, unfamiliar body presses mine into the couch. Grinding on me. Touching me. The wood of the old broken couch presses painfully into my back. I hit, smack, try to wiggle away from him but I’m getting nowhere.

“Keep struggling’, bitch!” My fight makes this more enjoyable for him. He wants to rape me. He thinks he can talk me into wanting it, but the idea repulses me.

“Please don’t,” I’m not sure why I try. He doesn’t care what I have no say.

“Shut up!” His scratchy, dry lips kiss down my neck to my chest. It’s do or die, so I give in, letting my body go soft. I give him what he wants… submission.

“That’s right. Knew you wanted it, slut. Just like your momma, huh?” Running my hands down his back, I pretend to want it. It’s sick. I moan like I want it. I let my fingers feel his skin and I touch him. I touch him until I can’t take it anymore. I feel the cold metal on my fingertips. It’s do or die time. I pull the gun out of his pants, raise it up and pull the trigger. One shot under the chin. I did it and he died. I wasn’t going to let it be him, so I chose me.

The bat. I remember that bat. I remember watching Gin sit it behind the bar. Reaching a hand out, I feel for it as I push away. I search, praying I find it and again, just like so long ago, my fingertips find cool metal. Not a gun, but a bat, and now it’s do or die time. I’ll work with anything.

Grabbing it, I push off the floor, ready the bat and go. I don’t even hesitate. It’s them or us. I make it straight for the first guy, bringing the bat over my head and swinging it back down as hard as I can. A crack sounds as metal meets skull and flesh. The force of the hit makes my hands ache. There is no noise from him as his body falls to the ground.

“Lailah!” Lil screams.

Spinning around, the man who had Lil charges at me. Holding the bat in a perfect batting position, I swing and connect to the side of his face. He goes down but I’m not done. I hit him, again and again. I hit him until my arms tremble from exhaustion. I hit him until I know my hands will blister from the metal rubbing on my skin. I hit him until I win.

“Lala, baby!”

There’s more hell. More shouting. More voices. I can hear my mom screaming at me over and over again in my head, “Why’d you do it?” “Why?” “You stupid little girl! You stupid fucking girl!” I did it because I had to. I wanted to.

“Lala!” Hands touch my shoulders and I jump. Swinging around, I bring the bat up.

“Lailah!” Lil screams, “Stop!” Taking a few retreating steps back, I notice a few lights are back on. It’s a dull, muted light, but I can see.

Stitch is leaning against the bar with Lil still kneeling beside him, holding her hand against his wound. Tank is standing in front of me with wide eyes, while Happy is shouting into a phone. Swinging my eyes toward the door, I find Rampage. He’s holding a blood soaked towel to his shoulder. Dropping the bat, my hands start to shake. They were going to kill the closest thing I have to a family. I will not feel bad for what I did here tonight. I won. We won.





14


Bullets & Bats


Rampage

I walked in on pure fucking insanity. People everywhere. Blood, broken shit, no power, people screaming. A fucking mess. The only thing I could focus on was the terrifying sight across the room. She had that bat raised high, and I watched her bring it down repeatedly, hitting her mark each time. She had perfect accuracy with each blow, like she knew exactly where she was gonna hit him. There’s blood and brain splattered on her from head to toe.

There’s a guy on the ground a few feet away from her, head bashed in, and the guy she’s beating on now is damaged beyond recognition.

“Lala!” I can see crazy shit written all over her face. Pure, raw fucking emotion. She’s not scared or remorseful. She looks like a stone cold killer, “Stop her, goddammit,” I yell at Tank. He’s the closest one to her. Tank grabs her and I watch her pull back, ready to land him with the bat. Lil screams, “Stop!” just as the lights cut on. Lala takes a few steps back and drops the bat by her feet. Looking around she starts to shake, but I’ve yet to see any fear.

“Lala, baby!” Her wide, blue eyes snap up, finding me.

She’s running toward me and has her hands all over me in a second, searching for, what I’m guessing, is more injuries.

“Baby. I need you to calm the fuck down,” Shaky fingers run from my cheeks, down my neck. Fuck. She’s strung tight.

“Oh shit, Rampage,” she gasps as she pulls away the shit tied around my arm. Took a twenty-two to the shoulder, but it’s more of a deep graze. Not the worst shit.

“Are you okay?” She whispers as her voice shakes. I’m good, but it’s her I’m worried about. She just took out two guys like a fucking hired hit man. “Baby, I need you to calm the fuck down. I’m good. Let’s sit down, okay.”



Doc stitched me up. Three sad ass stitches and I was good to go. He pumped Stitch full of the good shit and patched him up, so he’s good. Happy is calm and kicked back with a shot in his hand. Blood and shit isn’t his thing, but when push comes to shove and the shit is necessary, he’ll push back. He’s strange that way, I guess. Squeamish if it’s unnecessary, but all about it when shit needs handled. I guess I can understand that.

I left Lala in my room with the girls. I wanted her to shower and try to calm the fuck down, not that she was acting crazy or anything. For some strange fucking reason, she seems more worried about me than what happened with her and what she did with that bat. She’s completely unfazed by taking two motherfuckers out all on her own. It was like this wasn’t the first time something like this has happened. As much as it bothers me to think about it, I know I’m probably right.

Sitting around the table, Tank leans his elbow on the tabletop and sighs, “Demons retaliating for that dead brother. They fucked us back after we shut their shit down,” is all he says. We all nod as he finishes it up with, “But we fuck back harder.”

“You know that shit was about her too, right?” He says to me.

“I’ll fuckin’ handle it.”

“We’ll fuckin’ handle it as a club,” he corrects me. So we set up a plan and square everything away.

Stretching his arms out, Tank looks over at me, “Lala alright?”

“Fuck if I know.” It’s the truth. I have no fucking clue how she is. She’s alive, and truthfully, that’s’ all I really give a fuck about. If that makes me an asshole, then I’m the asshole of all assholes, because everything comes second to her. As long as she’s breathing and walking around, we’ll figure it the fuck out.

“She was insane with that bat, brother,” Happy says, folding his arms across his chest.

“That motherfucker threatened Lil, raised a gun, and she kinda fuckin’ snapped and lost her shit. She was fighting off one guy, but when she saw Lil, she went fucking wild,” Stitch says.

Tank’s eyes shoot to me, “She did that for Lil?” If that’s what Stitch says, then I guess she did.

“Fuck yeah. He pointed that shit at Lil ‘n Lala ninja kicked herself up, bringing down that bat on the guy who was dragging her out, then without a second thought, she battered up and knocked Lil’s guy across the jaw, and that was it. She just kinda blacked out ‘n kept wailin’ on him until… well, you fuckin’ saw him. A lump of dead, beat up meat on the floor. She’s kinda fuckin’ cool, and I don’t say that lightly. I was down, Lil was helping me, and Lala saved our fucking asses,” Stitch chuckles, “I won’t forget that shit. Me and Lil owe her our lives.”

She did all that shit? Fuck.

“Ain’t the first time she’s done that shit,” Happy adds as an afterthought, “She’s killed before.”

And I believe that.



The lights are turned off in the room and Lala is sitting in the middle of the bed when I walk in. She’s been sitting there with her eyes trained on the door, waiting for me. Jumping up, she rushes toward me the second I’m through the door.

“Are you okay?” That sincere concern from her gets to me. She gives a fuck.