Chapter 3 Beggar, Zero: Why do you have to go and say that?
This girl is obviously lucky; I bet she's dating some guy in one of those fancy suits. I can't see her face, but just hearing her voice, I can tell she's a softy that wouldn't survive an hour in my world.
She’s still talking to the person on the phone, but I can't hear much anymore because she's moved further away from me. I shift into my corner, my body still covered by a cardboard box I found in the dumpster. It’s a few minutes later that I hear her heels drumming closer to the club, closer to me. She's going really fast now by the way her heels are clicking on the tar. Maybe she's upset. I listen quietly because I ain't got nothing better to do, it's not like I have a TV or radio.
What's that sound? Other people's feet, heavy footsteps. My heart begins to race as I recognize those heavy footfalls, it's a man, shit, not man, men.
Scream bitch, scream for help, but she doesn't.
She’s going to get herself in some deep trouble now. There's a struggle. I can hear a muttered curse and the sound of her shoe dropping.
“I'm a Satan Sniper you fuckwad, let me go.” Her screech sounds like she's struggling. They must have her against a wall, or in a strong hold, shit.
I don't see anything, only hear one of the men’s response,
“I don't give a fuck. After I'm done with you bitch my friend here is gonna fuck you until you bleed and then I'm gonna slit your fucking throat.”
I listen to the swearing and her weak wails. Shit, she's going to get raped. Should I help? I wanna scream for her but what if they have friends around the alley just keeping watch, damn it to hell.
With a pounding heart I remove the cardboard box off my body. Once I'm sure they can't hear me, I crawl slowly out of my nest. They don't notice me, but I ain't surprised by this. I give it a good few seconds then I peep around the dumpster.
The one guy is African American, bald and meaty. He's holding her neck in a chokehold with a gun pointed to her head.
The blonde guy is trying to get her jeans down, and struggling. Her make up is running down her cheeks, red locks sticking up in all directions.
God, she’s so tiny and short.
I creep closer, sure not to draw attention to myself.
Blondie finally gets pissed when her jeans don't come down and slits it open, with a knife.
Wrong move.
Her spiked heel of her right boot gets him first in the nuts, then in the face when he bends down. She does some twisty move and gets out of the other guys neck hold. The men make a quick recover and both start hitting her.
Blondie slaps her across the face as the other guy upper cuts her. She screams and bends down, weaving.
Fuck, I know that if I don't help, they gonna kill her. I creep closer, still keeping to the dark. Her elbow makes contact with the throat of the man holding the gun, cutting off his oxygen.
The girl got moves.
His hands instinctively go for his neck causing him to drop the weapon a few feet away from me.
I don't think, just act.
Running out of the shadows I sprint to the gun, pick it up, click the safety off, and pull the trigger.
First bullet to the African Americans head, then to the blonde fucker’s heart. Both kill shots, both drop dead.
How I managed to do that, is another story I don't wanna remember, my nightmare. The reason why I still beg on the streets for scraps. Why I never finished school, why I can't even get a fucking ID.
And why the world would always just know me as Beggar.
Zero
I speed up the incline at seventy miles per hour, my bike is killing it. The smell of burning rubber is doing no justice to the actual heat my Harley’s taking. If the cops flashed me now, I'd be fucked. Not only did I leave my license back at the room we’re staying in, but the club has no jurisdiction in DC.
The old deputy, Willis was shot a few weeks back. Although the bullet grazed him, he took his family up North for some desk job. The Prez didn't wanna bust the man's balls. We don't even have a chapter this side and hardly spend time in DC to really care enough to bribe him to stay.
The women wouldn't stop nagging about seeing the new club that opened up tonight which is the only reason we're here now.
I was in no way driving 23 hours so they could dance in some club because some punk ass Rockstar was attending.
My first vote was no but Chadley talked my woman, Falon into going.
I waited for her to say something, but she didn't.
One of the new prospects, Den brought it up the next day after church. He publicly announced Falon was joining the girls. I was fucking angry. She didn't say shit when I asked about it again the same night.
I understood that she wanted to keep us quiet because her dad was the President. The man and I served two tours together.
But keeping stuff from me was not something I was going to take, which was why I decided to say fuck-it to all her plans and tell the guys. The sooner I claimed her ass the better my life would be.
When I showed up the morning, they were due to leave, I could tell Falon was surprised. I waited to see if she would get on another brother’s bike so I could disfigure the fuckers face. But one thing about Falon, she knows when not to push her luck.
She jumped behind me without a second thought. I was thrilled, but still too pissed. Which is why when we got to the hotel, I didn't book a room for myself. I doubled with Storm, our VP.
Unlike my other brothers, Storm knows about Falon and I. He doesn't like keeping it quiet, and always gives me shit when we're alone. Neither the fuck do I, but I do it for Falon, surprisingly Storm is doing it for me.
Falon is a petite 26-year-old, with a few heartbreaks, nothing too serious from what she's let slip.
I’m a 31-year-old man with a fakuva lot of baggage. But I didn't want her at the back of another brother’s bike, so angry or not, here I was.
It didn't mean that we were okay. Right now, however, I wish we were.