Post by emt on Mar 27, 2017 4:37:39 GMT
"Do I look like a fucking cop to you?"
Rhetoric question. The hooded man wasn't actually expecting him to answer it. Certainly not while he had him grabbed by the throat, pushed against the wall in a dark alley. So imagine his surprise when the he barely whispered.
"Dude... that's... exactly what... a... cop would say"
He raised a good point. Not that would help him anyway.
"Maybe this can convince you then."
A serious and collected tone, every word spelled in such a calm and somehow disturbing way. He was trying to wriggle free, but every attempt was frustrated by the grip of his right hand tightening around his throat, cutting the oxygen supply. Definitely not a cop That was one of his last coherent thoughts, as he could feel the consciousness slowly fading. Gasping for air, he tried one last, desperate attempt to get free from that mortal grasp, digging his nails on his tormentor’s wrist. Unsuccessfully. How did he get in such troubles? What did he do? And why this guy was now reaching inside his pocket, to pull out… A phone?
Using the left hand, he quickly scrolled his finger on the screen, putting the phone right in front of his eyes.
“This guy. Do you know him?”
Everything was blurry, but he tried to focus on the picture behind the curtain of tears clouding his sight. Yes. Yes! I know him! He could have sworn he screamed those words on top of his burning, aching lungs. But all that left his mouth was a death rattle, followed by a slight, desperate nod of the head. Much to his surprise, he felt the grasp of his finger loosening, relieving pressure from his trachea. He was finally able to breath again, avidly inhaling the cold night air, as he fell on his knees, exhausted, scared. Unable to think straight, he instinctively tried to crawl away from that hooded maniac. Obviously it didn’t work. A piercing pain spread from his right hand, as his size 12 boot treaded over it, squashing it on the concrete.
“Not so fast. Where do I find him?”
He looked up at him, begging for mercy. His face was still concealed by the hood, by those green emotionless eyes, eyes he will never forget, were sparkling like emeralds under the street light.
“I don’t know man, he hangs out in North Philly, try in some bar…”
A scream followed the unmistakable sound of his phalanx bone cracking under the increasing pressure of his foot, echoing sinisterly in the desert alley.
“Jesus man, my fucking hand!” He cried out loud. “I swear to God, I don’t even know his name, I only made business once or twice!”
He must have sounded pretty convincing. As nothing ever happened, the hooded man turned on his heels and walked away.
“You could have killed me you crazy son of a bitch!”
He stopped on his track.
“Right. I could have”
He never turned back, covering the brief distance to his motorbike, jumping on it and disappearing along the streets of Philadelphia.
Later that night
Five hours ago, Ethan Thompson was in Atlantic City, inside his room at the Squires Academy Hostel, packing a few things for a weekend in New York City. On his agenda, a couple of dates and a lot of drinks, the best way he knew to blow off some steam after an intense week of training at the facility ran by the twenty-plus years veteran Jan Van der Roost and his team of trainers. He checked one last time his Twitter feed, mostly to see if his friend, Josie Barnes, made it to Philadelphia already. She was going to spend the weekend with Ethan’s sister, Heidi. The two girls were starting to bond and that was somehow surprising, at least for him. Unlike him, his sister was so much more friendly, demonstrative, trustful. A tad too much possibly.
As a matter of fact, wasn’t that the reason he was here tonight, sitting in a filthy bar in Fairhill, heart of the Philadelphia Badlands? He had to shake a couple of trees, beat informations out of a street thug or two, but in the end, he found what he was looking for.
That bastard who dared raise his hands on Heidi was sitting a couple of tables away from him, drinking a beer.
Ethan always had his reasons not to like the guy. Sure, if she was in Philadelphia, only an hour away from her brother instead of back in Helena, Montana it was, somehow, thanks to him. But as much as he loved his sister, he couldn’t help but thinking that she was at least safer up north. Unhappy maybe, but away from troubles and a shady boyfriend who took advantage of the teenager’s naivety.
Payback time was closing in. Now there was one last thing for him to do, before making his move: plan a way out of the troubles he was about to dive in.
Calling Josie was out of question. She was busy with Heidi, comforting the young girl. Part of him was still thinking that he should have been there too, with his sister, holding her hand, giving her a shoulder to cry on, showing that her brother was someone she could always count on, someone who would always be there for her. Instead, once again, he wasn’t at her side when she needed him the most.
Just like last year, when she was lying in a hospital bed, recovering from the physical and psychological abuses she had to suffer because Ethan left her alone with their dad.
He listened to his instinct that time, and he payed the price. And he was going to do just the same now. Whether it was the right choice or the wrong one, it was what Ethan Thompson needed to do, no matter the consequences.
He knew exactly the one person he had to call. Lara Chambers. They met just recently, shared a few drinks and somehow they bonded. Ethan liked how she could listen without judging, offering support and advices without being pedant or trying to tell him what to do. He was feeling like he could trust her, and that was more than he could say about anyone else.
He grabbed his phone, typed something on the screen constantly glancing at the young guy.
“About time, you son of a bitch”
Ethan mumbled these words before downing in one sip his glass of whiskey. Neat of course. His target was on the move, clumsily standing up and doddering his way to the door. After dropping a ten dollar note on the table, he stood up and followed him outside, not even waiting for the change.
The street was almost desert. Good people avoid this side of Philadelphia, especially this late at night. As for the drug dealer at the corner… He would unlikely care much about what was going to happen.
“Hey, do you remember me?”
His left hand grabbed the young man’s shoulder, forcing him to turn. No need to aim for the kneecaps. A fight was not what Ethan was looking for tonight, this was an ambush. The first strike, a sudden, heavy right punch connected to his nose. Breaking it. Blood started gushing profusely, filling his mouth, open in astonishment. Before he could reply, before he could even recognize Ethan, he found himself laying on the sidewalk under a rain of fists. His chances to fight back instantly dropped to zero. All he could do was trying to protect himself raising his arms. It worked. One of Ethan’s punches crashed against his elbow, and even if he couldn’t see his face, he could tell that he did hurt him. If anything, because he stopped dropping those thunderous on him. On all fours, he tried to step away. Glancing at him from his swollen eyes, he recognized that man who was holding his hand in pain. Heidi’s brother.
At least now he could see the reason behind this assault.
More than the pain itself, more than the struggle to breath, the one thing he would never forget from that night was the sound of his ribs cracking after one, relentless kick. And just like that, Ethan Thompson was once again on top of him, landing fist, after fist, after fist.
Paul has never been happier to see the Police. They’ve had their issues in the past, but he thanked God when he saw those blue lights and two men in uniform dragged that man possessed away from him. He smiled even.
After that, everything went dark.
Continuos
Another cage. Once again locked in for doing the fucking RIGHT THING! Are you telling me that Paul didn’t deserve it? He basically kidnapped a teenager. He shoot some half naked photos of her for God only know which purposes. He beat her up. Tonight I found out he was in some shady business. Color me fucking surprised. I told her. I fucking told her that this dude was scum. She didn’t listen. She said she loved him. Love.
Bullshit.
Feelings aren’t real. It’s just chemical. What we call love, it’s just an intoxication. Sooner it will be over. Leaving you with nothing but regrets. And a hole in our soul.
But Heidi is so young. She is entitled to dream. She deserves hope. She needs to be happy. Growing up in Montana isn’t easy. Losing your mother is a hard blow. I know all about it. Watching your brother running away is heartbreaking. But getting beat up by your own father, that fucks you up to a whole new level. It makes you hate the man you owe your life to. The one who raised you. Your hero. And that's just wrong.
She is so young and yet so mature. So sweet and so broken. So delicate, so tough. A kid and a woman. Heaven and hell, two out of one. It amazes me how strong a girl of her age can be. How she can walk around with the most beautiful smile I ever saw. Despite what she went through. Despite all the shit life keeps tossing at her. Despite a brother who keeps failing at keeping her safe.
Maybe I am not that different from that old bastard. I keep hurting her. And without the excuse of being a drunkass. I feel worthless. Useless. Maybe she’ll just be better off without me. Maybe Josie can be a better family for her than I will ever be.
Yeah, maybe I should just rot in this fucking cell.
Like father, like son.