Chapter 18

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Reaching the car and not wasting a second, I quickly unlock the car and snatch my backpack up from the floor of the creepily fancy car. Slamming the door as I throw my backpack over my shoulder, I lock the door, tuck the keys back into my back pocket, and race back to the guys, not wanting to leave them or myself vulnerable, but I am too late. My eyes confirm my fear as a groan erupts from my body, disappointment and a bit of annoyance pull conflictingly at my mind as I take in the scene before me.

These idiots, apparently having nothing better to do than bully a couple of high school kids for their lunch money, surround my tiny tot friends, all large men of mixed races, some with knives, most with guns and very muscular compared to the toothpicks I hang out with. Nick's eyes collide with mine, but he's smart, not acknowledging me in any way that would offer a warning to the intimidating entourage. Michael on the other hand decides to signal me to run with his eyes as subtly as he can, but of course, one of them just has to notice. The closest back to me topped by a shaved head turns slowly around to investigate and our eyes lock, I recognize him, but he apparently doesn't remember me. His demeanor shifts as he gets an odd type of swagger about him, a smug smirk like the night I first met him gracing his hideous face as his tongue darts out between his lips like the snake he is. He's the only survivor from Mr. Y's shop. Apparently he didn't learn his lesson, but with all the guys here, there's no way I can do the same thing I did then without having to do the same to them and I really don't feel like killing the only people who aren't trying to kill me or control me.

I swallow hard, hoping that he doesn't recognize me, I don't think he would, but I don't know what all he saw on the night we met. Uh-oh. Hands from his goons reach out and lock onto my biceps, the two muscle men dragging me closer to the rest of the people they surround. The leader speaks, eyeing me, looking my body over as Nick pulls me into the center of the circle, trying to shield me from the men. Thankfully, my half black, half dark blue shirt makes me less appealing, I think. Oh ho ho, buddy, if you knew who I was, I don't think you'd be checking me out except to see if I was armed. Hot rage fills my body, telling me to attack, but that weird wave of coolness calms it, chilling the heat and taking away some of my anxiety.

"You know, if you give us the girl and keep your mouths shut, you can walk away like nothing happened. Consider it your payment for our protection to access our place of business."

Sean, Tre, and Rob look like they're seriously considering his offer which concerns me slightly, but Nick glares dagger at him so terrifying even the inferno is taken aback by his intensity. Jordan grinds his teeth before launching himself at the leader with an animalistic screech that threatens to burst my ear drums.

"Tori! Run!"

Not wasting a second, I push myself free from the hands and take off, sprinting and weaving along back allies, and hide in a corner as the two handsy men pursuing me run past my hiding spot. Quickly, I pull my contacts out of my eyes, take my glasses off, let my hair loose, and change into my black attire: jeans, black sweatshirt, same black Cami, and a fresh pair of black Nikes. Shoving my backpack behind a trash can, I breathe to steady myself and pull my hood up and collect myself, beginning to form some sort of plan before rushing back to the fight.

Silently, I appear at the edge of the shadows around where I fled and assess the situation, my mind whirling with the heat of the inferno, calculating my first move. Eight, well, now nine unarmed teenagers verses fifteen undoubtedly armed full grown men, based from the amount of knife to gun ratio coupled with the bald fool tells me they're from Los Blancos. Huh. Seems fair enough.

Mildly confused, I note that for some reason, none of them have used their guns on my friends, but why wouldn't they? Shaking my head to clear away the confusion, I allow the inferno to guide me, charging towards a bulking man with his beefy hand wrapped around the throat of Adam, his feet flailing as he struggles to fight back. Gathering my strength, I launch myself into the air and slam my feet into the side of the man's rib cage, a loud snapping sound travels up my legs and echoes in my ear. He grunts and sucks in a gust of air before dropping to the ground, his arms wrapped around his torso momentarily before the shock knocks him out. Adam crumples to the ground with my victim, coughing profusely and clutching at his throat with his hands to relieve the sensation of strangulation.

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