Raise a Little Hell

Prologue

RAISE A LITTLE HELL

PROLOGUE

On the west end of 8th avenue stood a boy, waiting patiently for his troublesome friends. Some strangers glared at him in passing while others offered him a smile and a wave. He simply stood there, ignoring the distasteful looks and accepting any kindness that was offered to him.

Fionn Gallegan was arguably the most notorious kid in Hell's Kitchen. He knew it, his friends knew it and so everyone who occupied the streets of the neighbourhood. There was a strong spite towards him, especially from those who had first hand experience with the young boy who had his pockets filled with what never belonged to him.

Today was no different to any other day in the streets of Hell's Kitchen. It was dusty and smelly, darkened under the shadow of the winter clouds. The neighbourhood was rife with daily life. The sounds of vendors hawking their products, women and men chattering between themselves and police officers yelling at no-gooders among some of the familiar noises of the area.

It made Fionn feel at home. He grinned as he soaked in the regular chaos, waiting for his half-witted friends to catch up to him. They stumbled, pushing at each other's shoulders as they exited the lavatory complex.

Conor hollered loudly, jogging over to Fionn with a wide grin that was drenched in childish mischief. "Them dratted-"

"You lot took your time," Fionn interrupted before Conor could finish his thought. He watched as his friend scoffed. "We don't got all day if you want to go home with a full sack."

The red-headed boy shrugged lamely, his torn blazer barely hanging onto his shoulders. "Come on, Fionn, y'know how much I hate hearing you refer to our winnings as a 'full sack'. Sounds fucking bad."

"What does it matter to you, eh?" Liam sauntered up from behind Conor, Paddy at his side with a loose smirk playing on his lips.

"Yeah," Fionn agreed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. "It's nothin' worse than the regular shit you talk."

Conor rolled his eyes, throwing an obscene hand gesture in Fionn's direction with a wide smile that betrayed his actions. Fionn returned the gesture, laughing as he landed a hand across the back of his friend's head. He watched in amusement as Conor stumbled forward, letting out a string of profanities as he regained his balance.

Paddy clapped Fionn on the back. He chewed absentmindedly on a toothpick, squinting under the light that broke through the clouds. "You lot don't think we've done well enough today?"

"Why?" Liam teased, falling into step with the rest of the boys as they started walking away from the complex. "You got plans, Padbag?"

"Yeah," Paddy sharply responded. "Gonna meet your mum for a fun afternoon. Hope you don't mind."

"If you have any idea the crazy in that woman's head, you'd know I don't mind-"

Fionn, ignoring the useless banter that glide right over his head, pointed at a jewellery shop that they were nearing. "That one."

"We ain't ever done a place that-" Conor stopped to think of the right word to use. "Fancy."

"Imagine the cash we could get for just one meter of good silk, boys," Fionn cheered, pulling out a rusted blade from his pocket. "It'd be enough to last each of us long time."

Paddy, always so skeptical of any idea Fionn ever proposed, hummed. "How do you plan on getting out with the fabric, huh?"

"We still have some of that paper, Conor," he replied, confidently coming to a halt and staring each of the boys in the eye with a scheming glare. "We'll be out of there before they even notice. Just remember to keep your hats tilted and there's nothing they'll be able to do about it."