Paper Blossoms

Two

My hair whips around me as I zoom through the city. I shift gears on my motorcycle and push through traffic, dodging cars as I speed through the south side of Santa Monica. Of course, I didn't come alone. Nine of my fellow Blossoms ride alongside me. We all came armed and ready to fight. This isn't the first time that the Ivory Blossoms have been attacked, but it will be the last. I check my holsters with one of my hands, four on each thigh and two on each ankle, twenty knives total. They fucked with the wrong Ivory.

I know why they took my mother. She was the most prominent Ivory Blossom in our whole gang, she used to be a Red. But her age softened her and made her too gentle to survive in the Red Blossoms. As I approach the Railhead, a club that serves as the Bronze Angel headquarters, I come to a quick halt. My tires screech against the pavement as I brake. Leather slides against leather as I get out of the seat. The Red Blossoms that came with me all wore the same thing I did, black leather pants and our signature leather jackets.

A few Cobalt lackeys move to block my entry, my partner, Lucy, flashes her fully automatic. They share a glance and attempt to swallow their fear. "We're here on business. Move." Lucy hisses the words at them, causing them to step aside. I make my way inside, marching through the tables and barstools all the way to the poker rooms. Sure, it was only noon, but these women gambled day and night. Cherry, the queen bee of the Bronze Angels stood as I entered, three of her pals got up and surrounded us. Four to ten, if things took a turn for the worse, at least I had numbers on my side.

I stare her down, "Where is she?" Cherry's brow furrows and she returns my fiery gaze, "An eye for an eye, you took one of ours. We took one of yours." I shift my weight onto one leg and put my hand on my hip. Blossoms don't kidnap people, we kill people, and even then we only kill criminals. Cherry's girls might be ruthless and violent, but they've got an honour code. An eye for an eye describes their entire gang. "We didn't take anyone. We don't operate on the south side and you know that. Give my mother back now or so help me God I will murder everyone here." I slip two of my knives out and toss them at one of the angels, they embedded themselves in the wall on either side of her face. Lucy pointed her rifle at Cherry, the rest of my girls revealed their weapons as well. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't kill them all right now, didn't mean I couldn't scare the shit out of them. I had to get my mom back.

Cherry pulls a red lollipop out of her pocket and pops it in her mouth, she got her nickname from cherry dum-dums. "Marianne, I know that one of your girls stole my Arabelle." It takes all the self-control that I have not to send a knife straight through her cold, dead heart. "We found a red blossom in her quarters, we know it was you." I clench my fist, glaring at her. My girls took no one.

It is true, a red rose was our signature. But we only leave one after a kill. I take a deep breath, and my voice is deadly as I say, "We don't have any Angels. I don't know what you're talking about. You know me Cherry. I don't lie." She shakes her head and shrugs, "Someone's got her. You might have a snake in your nest. Find her and return her safely to me, then I will give you your mother back. I wouldn't hurt Olivia unless she hurt me first. I'll put her up somewhere nice till I've got Arabelle." Lucy, my second in command, glances at me, I know that I should leave. Even though I want to kill them all and take my mom back myself, I know it wouldn't get me anywhere. So, with a heavy heart, I turn and leave.

My other Reds file out of the room after me. I stalk out of the club, casting hostile glares at the Cobalt Bats around me. Lucas walks in just as I walk out, my breath catches in my throat as he moves his hand to touch mine. He moves in a way that no one will see. If anyone did, we'd both be cast from our gangs and punished. The two triads were strictly forbidden from intermingling unless it's completely necessary. The smell of mint and ginger lingers around me as I exit the space. The smell of Lucas.

~~~

I swallow my pride as I walk into the Garden, the resident bar located on the west side of the Blossom Plaza. All the Blossoms gravitate to this place. Consider it our operations headquarters. I blast through the doors and plop myself down at the bar. Tyreese sets my favorite drink down in front of me, a mango daiquiri. Everyone rises from their seats to greet me. They want me to fill them in on the situation. They want a plan. They want me to be a leader.

I down my drink in two gulps and jump up from my seat. Ivory and Red Blossoms surround me, waiting patiently for me to start speaking.

"The Brass Angels have kidnapped my mom. Olivia has been taken." I let the words sink in for a moment before continuing, "Cherry claims that one of us has stolen her girl, Arabelle. If that is true, then we have a traitor among us." People start accusing each other, friends turn on friends, chaos breaks out. Before I know it, I've got twenty of my own girls screaming in my face. I hop up on the barstool as Lucy fires a shot into the ceiling, demanding their silent attention.

"No one, ever said that was true!" I holler at them, silence filling the room once again. I get down from the stool and examine the women that surround me. "The possibility is there, this I know, but I never said that it was certain. In any case, I have made a deal with Cherry." They respond with quizzical looks, eyebrows raised. "If we find Arabelle, we get Olivia back."

The Blossoms all look at each other, I let them discuss things among themselves for a moment or two. "So, are we in? Or are we out?" Everyone bursts out in laughter, people from all sides say, "Of course we're in!!! That's Olivia you're talking about." I smile at everyone and order another round of drinks, I see ten of them head to outside, phones in their faces. The search began the moment I opened my mouth.

~~~

Standing in front of the mirror is my least favorite thing to do. I'm not ugly. My lips are full and red, my hair long, curly, and black. My eyes are a light grey and my skin is smooth and clear. Everyone tells me how beautiful I am. But I don't ever feel beautiful. I feel like a killer.

I pull my leather pants on over my hips, tightening the red laces on each leg. I slip fresh knives into my holsters. These knives were specifically made for killing, black handles with a red rose painted on the serrated blade. I pull on my blood red combat boots, my leather jacket. I snatch my red helmet off a table by the door and make my way to my bike.

The sun was setting; it was time for work.

~~~