Chapter 5, Maroon man

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I open the iron double doors that lead to my weapon room. Jack is right behind me and the place got an upgrade since the last time he was here. "You stocking up for World War Three?" Jack asks astonished.

I let a small smile creep its way up. It is pretty impressive... The room itself is about the size of a middle-class house and if the guns aren't lining the walls, they're stocked on the shelves. All ranges. All sizes. Enough to arm a small army.

And yet it's nothing compared to what I know the South has...

"The West and the East are just kids. They have no idea how big this gets. What you've seen during your time as a spy at the West, touches nothing compared to what's coming. I've got to be prepared," I answer my hacker. 

"Blake was a great leader, but he had more arguments with the East than actually doing something," Jack replies.

"Yeah, well, that's not a problem anymore. They will be wise to prepare now since they're part of Sterling. I just have to make sure the South doesn't intercept that meeting tomorrow," I say while walking up to the first shelf - which contains all my favorite guns. I run my hand along a gold-inlaid Cold model 1849 pocket revolver. This one's always been my favorite. It's worth is over a million. 

Jack watches me pick up the gun. "Y'know, for a guy that wants to stop gun violence, you have a lot of guns," Jack points out.

"The more I have, the less they have," I say and refer to the world outside.

I pocket the gun and grab two automatics that I hand Jack before leaving the weapons room and locking the iron doors. I make my way back to the main floor and Nessa is standing there, waiting with Daniel.

"I hope ye don't think I'm actually holding a gun. Just got me' nails done," Nessa says and crosses her arms.

I roll my eyes and Jack hands Daniel the other automatic. Nessa is useless in a fight. Pathetic really. I swear she'd kill all of us if we hand her a gun to shoot the enemy. No aim, whatsoever. 

"What do we do about the Southern thug downstairs?" Daniel asks. 

"Kill the dobber," Nessa suggests.

"I agree with Nessa," Jack says. Real anger flashes in his eyes. And with it, hurt. What those Southern thugs did... I want to agree with my friends, but the horrible reality is that we need him to talk. And he's been about as likely to talk as Paul.

"Paul hasn't gotten him to budge?" I ask my inner-gang.

"He's only been down there for a few minutes, ye dipshit. Give the guy a break," Nessa says.

I sigh and my inner-gang follows me when I head downstairs. Not the basement, but a level lower. This is where we keep all our prisoners. Except of course people who aren't actually prisoners, like that Matt kid from last year... If only he stayed where he was...

I open the door and immediately the cold air sends a shiver running along my skin. I take a breath and the cold is gone. The smell of rust and blood, isn't as easy to get rid of though. The sound of flesh meeting flesh comes from one of the cells. Poor guy, Paul can through a hard punch, I think to myself. 

"He say anything yet?" I ask Paul when I get to the cell. Jack, Daniel and Nessa come in as well and the Southern thug suddenly looks a little more scared at the sight of us all together. The North's inner-gang. The five people you do not want to mess with. The rest of the guys that were with him are already dead. Slaughtered on the spot. It's just him and what he knows, now.

Paul shakes his head.

Dammit.

"Nessa, suggestions?" I ask.

"Just offer him one of ye showers," Nessa scoffs.

The inner-gang all chuckle at that. "Leave my shower habits out of this," I smile.

"I can basically feel the heat radiating from the other side of Isabella whenever you take a damn shower," Nessa rants.

"If your skin isn't melting off, is it even a shower?" I ask in amusement.

"I'm sorry, but I'd have to agree with Bagpipes over here. Your showers are basically a third degree burn," Daniel points out.

"Leave mah country's bloom'n bagpipes alone!" Nessa scolds Daniel.

"Leave my sex-life alone," Daniel shoots back.

"Yer Maw's a beetroot!" 

"And you're a bagpipe!" 

"Tongue my fart-box, ye fuckin' walloper!" Nesss barks - making no sense as always when she brings her Scottish insults to the table. 

Paul lets out a low grumble.

Before Nessa and Daniel can be at each other's throats again, I interrupt the fight, "Guys, guys, I've got this," I say and then lose the smile. "Jack, get me my maroon tie and some pliers, please," I order.

Everyone shares a look. Nessa has a grin, Paul is looking like Paul and Daniel gets excited. Jack sends the Southern thug a 'sorry' look before running back upstairs.

"Ye better send up a few prayers," Nessa says to the Southern thug.

And I can't agree more.

When Jack quickly returns with the usual pliers and one of my favorite maroon ties, I make sure to get the tie on first. I close my eyes while straitening out the tie once I have it on. I'm the Northern leader. I wasn't born into this life. I was made into it. Through the odds. Through everything. I got here. 

And to get rid of all the monsters in this world, I need to be the biggest, baddest monster out there.

I open my eyes.

The Southern thug starts shaking.

"This is going to hurt," I say, "and a lot more than you think." I step closer while the guy starts struggling in the chair he's tied to. His hands and feet are bound and there really is no chance at escaping.

I bring the pliers to his pinky finger. The thug starts sweating. Shaking and sweating and stressing. "A-aren't you g-going to ask me a question f-first?" He asks. It's the most he's spoken ever since I captured him four months ago. The night West and East attacked Isabella.

"No," I answer nonchalantly.

"This isn't how it works! I'll talk, I swear, I'll talk," the guys begs.

"I don't care," I reply and rip off a nail in a quick, easy motion.

The guy's piercing scream  fills the room. Probably the house if I'm being honest. I just hope he doesn't wake Miss Sauvage from her afternoon nap. That woman can get pissed if she doesn't get her nap.

"Please, please! I didn't have a choice! It was an order!" the Southern thug cries.

"Oh, it was an order? Well, damn, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that," I say before ripping out another nail. Raw skin shows and I can hear Nessa gag next to me. 

"I'm gunna' go get ready for the jet, see ye in a wee bit," she says before she's outside.

"Oh god, oh god, please! You can't fucking do this! I said I'll talk! Just please stop ripping off my fucking nails!" the Southern thug whimpers in pain while blood starts trickling down his hand.

Paul growls.

"Stop swearing, Paul doesn't like it," I say and rip off another nail.

"FUCK!"

"Keep at it," I reply and rip off a fith nail as Paul lets out another grumble. Well, I'll be damned. He only has one hand's worth of nail's left. Guess the teeth are next.

"I was told to get mixed up with the North! Pretend to be a small gang so you'll guys force me to fight for you when the West and East attacked this place! I know, I know you said not to shoot anybody, but my leader told me to kill as many as we can... I didn't mean to get those two guys killed! You already killed everyone else. Why the hell would you kill a dozen guys just because two idiots from the West and East got killed. They weren't even important," The Southern thug starts spilling.

I rip off a finger from his other hand and tears start streaming out of his eyes. He doesn't dare to swear again and Paul has a small, yet noticeable smile.

"Damn, Xav, you always get people to talk," Jack remarks.

"That's not, Xav. That's Xavier, Jack," Dany says. Unlike my hacker, Daniel has actually seen a lot more of what I'm like when I'm wearing maroon. 

"Who is the Southern leader?" I ask.

"Promise to stop ripping off my nails if I tell you!" the guy cries. I'm getting nauseated purely by his desperation. Everyone has a breaking point. I always thought I skipped that rule, until of course, four months ago. 

"I promise," I answer, and I never, maroon or not, break a promise.

"The South isn't stupid. They can't risk having one leader when killing him means the gang is lost. There are two Southern leaders," the thug explains. "I don't know their names. Only their faces. One's got short dirty blonde hair. Late twenties. Broad shoulders and insanely good at fighting. The other has Black hair. Younger by a couple of years, but damn creepy. Has this scary look in his eyes."

"And when's their next attack?" I ask.

"I have no idea. But what I know is that they will stop the Sterling gang from uniting, at all costs," the desperate thug explains.

The meeting. The South is without a doubt going to try and stop that meeting Marigold is having with her gang.

Everything would've been a lot simpler if the South didn't manage to slip in some of their guys into the fight four months ago. Nobody would've gotten killed. Amber would've gotten a good night's sleep with the 'poison' I gave her and Blake would've gotten a minor shot in the shoulder. It would've been enough to unite the gangs.

But the South is always a few steps ahead. And I'm the only one that knows how serious this is. 

"Rip out all of his teeth and then lock the cell. We won't need the key anytime," I tell Paul before tossing him the pliers and leaving the cell with Daniel and Jack. Paul won't be long and the thug's cries of protest already follow us all the way upstairs.

I make sure to get all my stuff. Enough clothes for the weekend, because you never know what could happen. Everyone has a backpack at most, but Nessa, naturally, has three giant bags. I'd expect nothing less of my second in command. 

By the time we have to get to the jet, Paul is back - hands washed and ready to go with his tiny bag. I send him a nod and he returns it. 

"Well let's get going," Nessa says and we all head to the back door. We follow the path through the gardens and get to the hanger at the middle of my backyard. If you're not counting the forest of course. I click at my remote and the sleek black and maroon jet's door opens. A flight of stairs unwraps and works its way down with mechanical precision. When we have stable stairs, we get into the actual jet. 

I refuse to have any flight attendants, because it always results in a feud between Nessa and Daniel of who can get to fuck them in the bathroom first. 

I close the jet's door with another click on my remote and make my way to the cockpit before strapping myself in and getting the jet ready. I start the jet's engine and wait for it to get some heat before slowly, starting to turn the jet. The runway leads into the forest.

Nessa suddenly walks in and hands me a watch. The maroon leather of it's belt alone is exquisite. "It's yer Christmas present. It might be a long weekend," Nessa explains.

"You actually bought me something?" I ask and take off the maroon tie I have on. No need to be a monster with just my friends in the jet.

"Are ye a lavvy heid? I stole it," Nessa laughs.

"Thanks Nessa," I chuckle right back before the red head is gone.

When the jet is ready, I I start it off the runway - gaining speed with trees surrounding us until we have enough momentum to take off. I'm a pretty good pilot. All thanks to my previous gang leader who taught me. His sons never wanted to learn. And even though he held the feared title of being the Northern leader, he was actually a good man underneath his thick skin. At least, he had to be since he took in an orphan. 

I have no idea where I would be if he never saw me that day. 

And now he's dead. Along with his spoiled sons and kind wife. I know Miss Sauvage is still effected by the loss. She still has that sad look sometimes and fire freaks her out.

The flight doesn't take long at all. The black Gulfstream IV shoots through the sky like a rocket. Raven, I call her, because she's also a damn smart jet. Modified and adjusted to the point where I don't even know if I can call her a Gulfstream. 

By the time we reach our destination, It's dark and we book ourselves into a hotel. I don't bother with separate rooms, because I know we'll all end up in the same room in anyway.

It's safe to say that everyone except Nessa wakes up on the ground the next morning.

Everyone quickly gets ready for the day. We don't know when the South can strike and have to be there before them. Nessa decides on a tight black dress and fur jacket. Apparently the girl doesn't care about having murdered animals as clothes. But then again, that's just how she is. Selfish and vain, doesn't always mean you're not a good friend.

"It's about time I got to meet the lassie that's got mah dipshit all soft," Nessa says as she helps neaten out my dark maroon suit. I'm wearing the watch she gave me as well.

"I'm not soft," I argue.

"Aye, the amount of empty Nutella jars just doubled on their own," Nessa scoffs.

"Exactly," I answer before we're off.

In the hired car, Nessa is sprawled over Paul and Jack while Daniel has shot gun. She fiddles with Paul's dark hair where the latter just has a content smile. Jack's busy on his phone. Probably trying to hack into the South.

After a short ride, we finally arrive at the Sterling leader's old house. Marigold's house. I tighten my tie when that annoying fluttering feeling starts going off in my gut.

But when we get out of the car, I lose all color at the sight. The sight of five black SUV's and the mansion's front gates broken down. The South beat us to it...

I clench my fists until my nails draw blood.

Hey goldies!

Anyways, I hope y'all understand Xavier a little more. Do you goldies get why he wears maroon? 

And ohmygod, the South is already there! Ahhhhh what are they doing!?!?!?

Remember to vote and comment. And deal with the fact that Amber is now Rebma. I know the name is weird for some of y'all, but in my language it sounds fine. Say Reb-mah. 

Love y'all!

~ Holly Shmit

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