BROWN SKIN | BOOK 1

|| C H A P T E R . 26 || PART V

"Can you speak in English please, I don't want the others to hear," He grunted, adjusting his stomach where it hurt the most.

The guy checked to make sure the group was distracted enough by their own events that they didn't look over skeptically at them. He lowered his voice above a whisper, "Why, so they don't know what you're doing? Going around speaking English because you wish to be American?"

"I would never wish to be American. I take pride in my heritage and blood, you know that."

"Ha, you don't wish to be American. . .but you're speaking like one. You want to be so badly because you know what this place can offer you. It's bad here, Beau. They treat us horribly and you want to turn your back and say everything's alright."

"I never said any of this was okay! I don't want this, tell me right now, who would want to live in hell the way we do because, since birth, we were born to sign up for this. It's nothing new , but as soon as I pretend like...

"So who fixed the mess?" He asked.

"Axel was on his way five minutes after I left" Beau replied.

He's clean-up? He's going to get rid of the burning car right in the middle of the road?" His accent kicked in, but his English was not even close to how Beau could almost pass as an American.

"Yes, because I'm not stupid enough to leave that shit out there causing fires on other people's property." Beau snapped back with a bitter response.

"Axel said you killed her and you didn't feel any remorse or anything—"

"Because I had to defend myself when she tried to kill me! She attacked me because she was convinced the system would make her a better person. And for that, for being a traitor, it showed the person she really was and how she always was weak. She never believed in the revolution. She didn't believe in me."

"I burned it all and do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably." Beau rubbed his eyes and moistened his lips from becoming chapped from the ruby drops pinching through cracked lips. "Right now I'm just tired. Someone's out there. . .ready to kill me. Who knows how many more will be next."

The teenage boy handed Beau a Marlboro box made for at least twenty cancer sticks.

"Here are a couple mints for you." He gently passed it across the table smack dab in the middle. Beau frowned at the petite cardboard box, unsure why it was given to him while staring at the guy.

He gave a steady stare right back.

Beau broke it off when he picked it up and flipped off the cover, exposing money rolled into little crisp cigarette sticks upright. Beau eyed him again before running his thumb over the fresh cash.

"They're the Special Blend," The guy included, keeping his focus on the lovely gift to Beau as well. Special Blend said so under the brand name as well.

"They're are no bargains between lions and men."

Scar Face pulled out a cigarette to announce profoundly when he witnessed the transaction between the two under his nose. His mouth was ajar to the point his lips stretched wide enough to split, the shave on the edge of his brow raised up with excitement clearly confused with disturbed action. He had a smile made for war—violent and lethal.

"It becomes too dangerous and risky doing crap like that, your ass is just fighting not to screw up when something doesn't go as planned."

While he mentioned this, Beau already closed the box and tucked it away where it couldn't be seen once he got over there. Both boys said nothing with still faces.