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Chapter 7 <> Baseball Blood
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The town of Riverdale had fallen into anarchy. Naturally, the Ghoulies were taking full advantage of the opening in the illegal market and CJ found himself incredibly busy doing jobs. Once the news of Jason Blossom's true murderer hit the Southside his concern for Cheryl skyrocketed but he presumed it would be best to leave her to her own devices. She had his number but he didn't have hers; if she truly needed CJ, she'd contact him herself.
Currently, CJ was on the opposite side of Sweetwater River. Malachai had needed someone to settle some business in Greendale, and due to the importance of the job and the location, a high price had been offered. Although Cheryl's well-being was at the forefront of CJ's mind, he had eagerly jumped at the opportunity to make a few thousand on a quick job.
Even with the money that he'd given to Cheryl so that it could be passed on to Jughead, CJ still had a considerate sum saved. Ever since he had joined the Ghoulies and began camping out in the House of the Dead, he'd been determinedly saving for his own place. The apartment that CJ was keeping an eye on was on the Southside, but the trouble with the property was the fact that it was on the border of the Serpents' turf. A few houses down and it would've been Ghoulie territory; nothing was ever easy for CJ Jones.
Unfortunately FP was still locked up for the remainder of his crimes so no deal could be negotiated between himself and the snakes. Although CJ was experiencing a crossroads - along with the rest of Riverdale - the desire to have a private place to call his own ignorantly outweighed the cons of the predicament.
"Dude," Malachai drawled, wiping the blood off his personal switchblade onto the open Hawaiian shirt. CJ stood beside him with a baseball bat dangling from his right hand, looking down at the two men curled up on the floor. "I'm thinkin' Ho Zone after this." He stated with a reckless grin.
"We're just gonna leave these assholes here?" CJ asked in confusion as one of the men let out a groan while holding his ribs.
"As long as they don't go sellin' to those slimy shitbags again." The leader replied, crouching down in front of the two rival dealers. "You ain't gonna go selling to the Serpents again, are you boys?" The two men groaned in pain and Malachai took the lack of answer as an agreement. "See? They just needed a little reminder... anyone that does business with the Ghoulies, only does business with the Ghoulies."
"Pot dealers are so much cockier than they used to be." CJ muttered, pressing the tip of the bat down onto the 'M' that had been cruelly carved into the chests of the two turncoats. The man cried out in pain and Malachai couldn't help but chuckle at the response as he rose back to his feet. "I swear they're like the stupid freshman that square up to seniors. You gotta remember that you ain't the big fish, buddy. We are."
