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Fiction » Action » Over The Line font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: cyn chains
Fiction Rated: M - English - Crime/Suspense - Reviews: 63 - Published: 04-07-09 - Updated: 12-03-09 - Complete - id:2656881

Welcome, once again, to the world we've created. We hope you enjoy and review! Please be warned, this story is rated M for a reason. If you can't take the heat ... you know the rest.

Cyn and Orchid

Prologue

The man leaned against the side of the alley and watched the three boys across the street, his body more relaxed looking than he was feeling at the moment as he stared at the dark haired boy between the two blondes. He was going to make the little motherfucker pay for taking him away like that. It was bad enough that he had to wait around on him to want him but now that he was flaunting himself and batting those eyes at him, there wasn’t any time left over for anyone else. He was going to make the little whore pay.

Anticipation perked him up as he watched the two blond boys head off in the other direction while the dark haired boy started across the dark, empty street in his direction. Very soon, it would all be over and he would have him back and never have to worry about that fucking slut coming between them again … ever.

As the boy drew close to where he was lying in wait, the man stepped out of the alley and forced a friendly smile on his face. “Hey, Frankie.”

Frankie raised his head from the money he was counting and smiled back. “Hey, man. Whatcha doin over here this late?”

“I need your help with something,” the man replied, keeping his voice friendly and unconcerned as he put an arm around the boy’s shoulders and led him into the alley. “It’s a secret, though. You can’t tell nobody, okay?”

“Whatever you want, dude,” Frankie said obligingly as he allowed the man to lead him toward the back of the alley. He stopped and looked around at the three walls and the dark green dumpster. “Whatcha need?”

There was a loud click as the man opened the straight razor in his left hand and took a step toward the boy. “I need you to die so he will love me again.”

XXX

Guarded Souls

Nicky crouched down on his heels and lit the cigarette dangling from his lips, stuffing the lighter back into his jeans pocket before leaning his back against the brick building behind him. Squinting through the smoke drifting up from the glowing end, he scanned the cars moving past on the street with narrowed blue eyes and rested the Styrofoam drink cup in his left hand on his knee. Where the hell is all this traffic coming from? It’s usually not this damn busy after ten o’clock out here.

The extra cars made him a little nervous since he knew cops tended to travel in caravans when they’re on a heavy raid and the last thing he needed right now was to get caught up in a street sweep by vice. He’d not made it this long on the streets by not paying attention to his surroundings and reading the signs of something big going down. Not like they’re gonna mess with me anyway … too much fucking trouble to bust me. Over the past two years, he’d managed to work himself up from a lowly runner to his present position of dealer and he wasn’t about to have that blown just because a bunch of thin blues decided they needed a few more busts to fatten out their quota before the end of the year.

His gaze settled on a low-slung green car as it cruised past his corner and he took a draw from the cigarette, the tightening of his hand around the cup the only sign that something bothered him about the vehicle. That same car had been by him at least five times in the past hour and he didn’t like it. Looks like a fucking bust up crew, he thought to himself as he watched the car turn the corner at the end of the block, it’s brake lights flashing a couple of times. Two in front and three in back. Enough to take down a lone dealer with room to spare.

Nicky’s attention was pulled back to the street when a rusty hatchback Chevrolet crawled up to the curb almost in front of where he was relaxing and the passenger window slowly rolled down, the squeaks and groans adding to the apparent age of the vehicle. He mentally compared the car to the known bust rides in his area and checked for the conspicuous mile high antenna the vice cars always had stuck to their asses, finding none. Rising out of his crouched position, he flipped his cigarette away and walked cautiously toward the car, stopping to lean down and peer into the window at the two men inside.

“Whatcha need, guys?” He checked out the interior of the car surreptitiously while waiting on one of them to speak before raising his gaze back to the man in the passenger seat. No weapons in sight so they’re cool. “I ain’t got all night.”

“Doncha give me that bullshit, Chronic,” the driver mouthed off, a cynical grin on his pockmarked face as he leaned across the passenger. “You been holding up that fucking wall for almost half an hour.”

Nicky shot him a good-natured glare and leaned his forearm on the roof of the car just above the window, peering down at them through the strands of dark hair in his face. “Shut the fuck up and tell me whatcha want, asshole.”

“Two boy and a girl should do it for now.” Moving back upright in the driver’s seat, the man passed some money to the passenger and checked out the rearview mirror pointedly. “And make it fast. Don’t wanna sit here no longer than I have to.”

Taking the cash from the passenger, Nicky nodded and turned his back to the car, strolling toward the alley near where he had been lounging when the car had pulled up. Stepping a few feet into the dim recess, he quickly counted the money before pulling the top off the Styrofoam cup and lifting out the sandwich bag of little packages the size of a quarter. He folded the money into the bottom of the cup and quickly separated out the two foil packages and another clear one with white powder in it, stuffing the baggie back into the cup to cover up the wad of folded cash in the bottom and returning the lid to its original position.

Seconds later, he was back at the car and handing off the product. “Catch you guys later,” he said softly and stepped back onto the curb. “You know how to find me.”

“Sure do, kid,” the driver said with a chuckle and a jaunty salute. “Later, Chronic.”

“Later.” Nicky returned to his position against the wall as the car pulled back out into traffic and crouched down to lean his back against the bricks once more, his usual position when waiting on customers to come by. Not a bad night. I’ve almost gotten rid of everything. Sugar is going to be pleased with the profits tonight. He swiped his hair back out of his eyes and dug another cigarette from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, eyes scanning the cars going by once more as he lit it. Maybe I can actually get the damn thing smoked this time.

His hand shook slightly as he clamped the cancer stick between his forefinger and middle finger and pulled it away from his mouth, a thin trail of smoke coming out from between his lips. The shakes had been getting steadily worse over the last hour and he knew it was getting close to the point where he would have to shoot up soon or be sick. He hated shooting up before turning in his cash and leftovers but sometimes when business was steady he had no choice since he was out on his territory longer than the usual.

Sugar don’t care as long as I don’t dip into the selling product or get my ass busted for nodding on the damn corner. He took a slow draw from the cigarette and smiled faintly. He’d risen fast in the ranks by out selling the other dealers and keeping his ass clean of any busts and robberies and he’d be damned if he was going to ruin that hard won reputation by copping his fix during business hours. I rule the addiction, it don’t rule me.

The gears spinning in his head ground to an abrupt halt as he noticed that same green car cruising past again and an alarm went off in his mind. He ducked his head down a little and let his hair swing down to cover his face, peering at the vehicle covertly through the curtain he’d made as it crawled out of traffic and stopped at the curb a little ways down from where he was lounging. His chest constricted and his heartbeat sped up when four big boys climbed out of the car and started walking back toward where he was sitting.

Oh fuck no. That’s a fucking robbery crew if I ever saw one. Nicky rose to his feet slowly as the figures drew closer and tightened his grip on the cup in his left hand, debating on whether to make a run for it or wait and see what the fucks wanted. You know what the fuck they want! They’re gonna stomp you flat and take your cash and shit same as they did to Danny a few weeks ago! A shudder ran through him as a picture of his friend’s battered face popped into his head. No fucking way is that happening to me.

Flicking his cigarette out into the street, Nicky turned his back on the approaching figures and started walking toward the end of the block. He knew he couldn’t outrun them but maybe he could out think them. Gotta find somewhere to stash my shit before they catch up to me. Ain’t nobody gonna take my shit away from me. A cold chill made his teeth chatter a little as he thought of having to inform Sugar that he’d been stupid enough to get his ass robbed. He had no desire to be on the red list of dealers that owed for their product since he knew what happened when they couldn’t pay up. Getting your ass stomped flat by a robbery crew was small potatoes compared to what would happen if you went back at the end of the night empty handed.

“Hey, kid!”

Nicky didn’t bother looking back to see how close the guys were. He broke into a full run and focused on the corner ahead, knowing if he could get out of their sight for even a few seconds he could find a place to wait them out. The abandoned apartment building would be perfect. They can’t search the whole fucking thing for me. Pounding footsteps echoed behind him and he knew his time was running out, there wasn’t time to get to the apartment building. He would have to improvise and fast.

Turning the corner, he ran as fast as he could and eyed the buildings to his left, searching for some place to stash his cup. If he was going to get caught, it would be without his product and cash on him. Spying an alleyway between the hardware store and a small grocery establishment, he put on some speed and ducked into it. Relief hit him as he noticed the metal garbage cans lining the sides of the alley.

Perfect. He had just enough time to pry the lid up on the closest one and drop his cup in, shutting the cover back and spinning around to face the mouth of the alley. He backed up slowly as the four figures entered the alley and moved toward him, fanning out across the width to block his path back out should he be stupid enough to make a break for it.

“I ain’t got nothing on me, guys,” he informed them in a low voice, fighting to keep the fear out of his words. He held his hands up palm out. “Totally clean tonight.”

“Cut the shit, Chronic,” the largest of the four ordered as they closed in on him. “You’ve always got shit on you so don’t fucking lie.” He motioned to the other figures jerkily. “Search his ass, boys.”

Nicky backed up as the three older boys moved toward him and shook his head slowly, panic setting in when he felt his back come up against the wall at the end of the alley. “Toldja I ain’t got nothing on me,” he repeated, wincing when his arms were seized in a tight grip. Danny fought them, he reminded himself as hands dug into his coat pockets and his cigarettes and lighter were tossed to the side. Maybe, just maybe, if I don’t fight them they won’t hurt me.

He shivered in the cold air when his leather coat was stripped from him and dropped on top of the other stuff the hands had yanked from the pockets of it, hoping they would be satisfied that he wasn’t carrying when they came up empty on the search. “Fuck, guys,” he gasped out through chattering teeth as the hands tightened on his arms. “Wouldja hurry the fuck up. It’s freezing out here.”

“Shut the fuck up, smackhead,” a menacing voice ordered, the angry tone sending even more shivers through Nicky. “We saw you dealing to that fucking hatchback so we know you got some shit on you.”

“They bought the last of my digs, man.” Nicky stumbled a little as he was spun around and slammed face first against the bricks of the back wall, the coarse surface scraping against his cheek uncomfortably. He could tell by the roughness as hands dug down into his back pockets that they were getting antsy and pissed that he had managed to dump his product before they got to him. “Toldja I ain’t got shit on me.”

He could hear them muttering amongst themselves as the searching continued and sighed softly, jumping a little when the hands delved into the front pockets of his jeans. “Watch it there, slick,” he said in a joking tone, hiding the fear and dread as best he could considering the situation he was in. “Don’t go copping a feel while you’re working. That ain’t cool, you know.”

Lights burst in his vision when something hard slammed into the side of his head and his forehead banged against the brick wall. “Ouch! You fuck!” He started struggling as the hands tightened on his arms and he was slung back around to face them, Danny’s face prominent in his mind. “What the fuck didja do that for?”

One of the guys moved in closer while the other two pinned Nicky’s wrists to the wall on each side of his head, the smell of whiskey strong enough to choke a horse as he leaned in to stare into Nicky’s eyes with a cold, hard glare. “What didja do with it, kid?” When Nicky shook his head, the guy drew his arm back and slammed him across the face hard. “Doncha fucking lie to me, boy,” he said in a dangerously low tone, brown eyes narrowing to slits in the dim light from the outside light over the side exit of the grocery store. “You dumped your stash somewhere and you better speak up now.”

The coppery taste of blood flooding his mouth made Nicky gag and he wondered if the fuck had broken his nose with that blow but he had no time to figure it out. He barely had time to register that the hold on his wrists had been removed before a hard punch smashed into his stomach, the force doubling him up as the breath was knocked out of him. Fucking hell. They’re gonna beat the shit outta me anyway. He’d known that an ass beating was a good possibility when the guys figured out he actually didn’t have anything on him drug or money wise but he’d hoped they would just give up and leave.

That was fucking naïve of me, he thought as he was yanked back upright and several more punches slammed into his ribs, pain flashed through him as blow after blow smashed into his head, ribs and stomach. He could hear several voices above him as he slid to his knees on the filthy alley floor and could make out a few words in between the punches but the pain precluded any rational thoughts on how to get his ass out of this situation as quickly as possible. Still better than that fucking slasher catching my ass. I can deal with being robbed easier than getting my fucking throat cut.

“Get him back up,” a harsh voice ordered as if from miles away. “Make him fucking talk or its gonna be hell to pay.”

Nicky gasped as he was hauled back up onto his feet and slammed back against the brick wall of the alley once more, faces swimming into view when he forced his eyes open. “Ain’t … got … noth …”

A fist slamming into his face, followed by another cruel voice, cutting off his protest. “You’re lying, kid!” The fist banged into his left cheek and his head bounced off the bricks. “We fucking saw you dealing to those fucks in the Chevy! Give it up! Where the hell didja stash the goods?”

“What the fuck is going on here?” The voice was low but the tone of controlled anger made it seem louder in the closed space of the alley. “Let go of him.”

The guy holding Nicky up stepped back to look over his shoulder and Nicky could make out a shadowy figure a few feet inside the alley, blond hair catching the light from the grocery exit and illuminating hard, angular features. Thank God someone came by, he thought as the hands holding him released and he sagged to his knees, watching as the four guys that had been on him turned to face the newcomer. Maybe they’ll leave now.

The leader of the gang turned to glare at the blond guy as he made his way further into the alley. “This ain’t none of your business, pal, so just move along or you’ll be next.”

A low clicking noise followed a flicking of the blond’s left hand and the blade of a knife glowed dully in the yellow glow of the exit light. “I doubt that,” the deep voice intoned emotionlessly, bright blue eyes shifting to Nicky briefly before moving back to the leader’s face. “He’s just a fucking kid. You get your kicks beating on little kids, Tony?”

Nicky raised one hand to swipe at the blood running from his nose and stared at the two men facing off in the center of the alley. Well, ain’t this some shit? They fucking know each other. A cramp tightened his stomach unexpectedly and he gasped for breath, all interest in the conversation in front of him disappearing as the muscles constricted painfully. Hurry the fuck up, you assholes. I gotta get my fix soon!

“Aw, c’mon, Thorne,” the leader’s voice broke through the pain. “Doncha tell me you ain’t jacked up a few dealers in your day cause I know you have.”

Blue eyes met Nicky’s gaze a few seconds. “Jacking up dealers is one thing,” the deep voice answered softly. “But beating on kids is totally different.” The blond head tilted toward the street behind him in a jerky motion. “Get the fuck outta here.”

Much to Nicky’s surprise, the guys actually appeared to be leaving. He leaned his head back against the bricks as the four figures skirted around the blond and disappeared onto the street without protest, wondering if this meant he could look forward to a retaliation beating in the near future since their robbery had been thwarted. A low click drew his attention back to the blond and he watched the man stuff the closed knife into his back pocket as he walked toward where Nicky was sitting.

“Thanks, man,” he gasped out when the man got close enough to hear him, wincing at the weak tone of his own voice. A hand extended down to him and he took it gratefully, allowing himself to be pulled up onto his feet while studying the features of his savior. “Thought they were gonna kill me.”

“They probably would have.” The blond wiped his blood smeared hand on his jeans and took a step back, hard, blue eyes boring into Nicky. “No amount of shit is worth getting your ass killed over.”

“Tell that to the big man,” Nicky muttered as he knelt down on one knee to grab his jacket and stuff the shit they’d dug out of his pockets back into it with shaky hands. “Some times getting killed is a blessing compared to what happens when you lose your product.” He staggered to his feet and slid the leather coat back on, wincing as his ribs protested the movement. “Anyway, thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” The blond turned his back on him and head for the street at a slow, leisurely stroll, tossing back over his shoulder, “You better call it a night and get your ass off the streets. They ain’t gonna let you go so easily the next time.”

Anger shot through the pain and Nicky glared at the man’s back as he followed him up the alleyway, stopping at the trashcan to pry the lid up and retrieve his cup. “There ain’t gonna be a next time.”

The blond came to a halt just outside the alley and turned to fix Nicky with unreadable eyes that made a shiver run through him. “You keep using the fucking product and you’ll end up with your throat cut in a dumpster somewhere, kid,” he intoned steadily, both eyebrows rising cynically. “Anybody looking at you right now can tell you’re on the smack train with no station in sight.”

“I don’t need no lecture,” Nicky growled as he gripped the cup with his cash and stash tightly in his left hand. “Thanks for saving my ass but that don’t mean you own me now.” Turning his back on the man, he started away toward the intersection. “I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can,” the man hollered, laughter evident in his tone. “Besides, who would want to own a strung out junkie anyway?”

Raising his hand, Nicky flipped his middle finger up and kept walking, the laughter behind him only making him angrier. Fuckers keep you from getting a beat down and they think they can tell you how to live your fucking life. Shithead don’t know me so he can’t judge me. His stride was broken a little when another cramp hit and almost doubled him up. He’d been without the fix too long and now he would pay for it unless he could find somewhere to do his dirty deed before going to turn in his money and dope.

Sugar’s gonna have to wait a while longer on me. No way in fuck am I gonna go settle up with him in this shape.

XXX


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