Harley screwed his face up at the cards in his hands, glancing up at Axel, before back down to the cards again.
"You really need to work on your poker face," Axel laughed, leaning back into the sofa.
"What's the point when I'm confused as hell," he huffed in response.
The two men were gathered around the coffee table in the living room, Axel in the process of teaching Harley how to play poker. Harley had the motivation to learn for years, but wanted his older brother to be the one to teach him, and not anyone else. As part of Axel's guilt for beating up Lucas a few weeks ago, he had dedicated multiple hours of his days off from the car dealership to spend time teaching Harley, along with many other favors and trips to the diner- on Axel's dime, of course.
Harley would be lying if he said he didn't relish in the attention with Axel trying to bend over backwards for him at every instance he could, but they were all in a much better place now, and the constant pandering wasn't really necessary anymore. Whenever Harley would protest, however, Axel would insist and state that it was still required given his unruly and inappropriate behavior. Lucas was also thoroughly reaping the benefits of Axel's guilt, even more so than Harley.
After the fight, Lucas was left with dark purple bruising all down his side, and a thick band of discoloration covered his throat from where Axel's muscled forearm pressed into it. Axel had this completely wrecked and distraught look flash across his face whenever he saw it- even when the bruises had faded, his desire to make amends continued to flourish.
"What's confusing?"
"I don't know what I should bet with these cards. I don't think they look good."
"Let me see," Axel outstretched his hand, wiggling his fingers playfully for Harley's cards.
"But if I show you then you'll know how to play against me," Harley retorted, peeking over the tops of the cards slightly. His brother smirked, dropping his head slightly, before looking back at Harley.
"Call it an educational round. No winners or losers."
"Alright, fine," Harley conceded, relinquishing his cards to Axel. The older man surveyed them for a moment, green irises dancing across the faces as he pondered the potential moves.
"You could double down on this. You're in a good spot," he nodded, handing the cards back to Harley, who stared at him in shock.
"Really? Doubling down would be a good move here?"
"Yeah, put down your chips and I'll show 'ya."
"I don't know. . .'' Harley trailed off uncertainly, but placed down some additional betting chips into the play.
"You'll see in a second," Axel assured, moving to pull some cards. "Watch-"
A sudden bout of muffled yelling began outside, distracting the two men's attention from the game, as both of their heads whipped towards the ruckus.
"What the hell is going on out there?" Harley muttered as Axel stood with a grunt.
"No idea, but I should check to make sure it's not Mr. Richter wandering out into the street. He's got dementia and gets lost from time to time. He blocks the roads and the drivers will yell at him."
Harley watched intently as Axel moved to the window behind the kitchen table, brushing aside the paisley curtain to peek outside. After only a second, Axel jolted back, staring at the window wearily as the curtain obscured the view again, before he rushed over to Harley.
"What's going on?"
"Go upstairs. Find Jackie," Axel said hurriedly, ushering Harley along towards the stairs.
"Wait-"
"Go. Don't come back down. There's a pistol in your nightstand, use it if anyone other than the people in this house come upstairs." Axel glanced nervously back towards the window, pushing Harley more harshly as the man dug his feet in slightly, wanting to pry more information from his brother first.
"Axel," he pleaded in exasperation. "What the hell is going on?"
"I- I don't really know, but there are lots of people with guns walking down the street."
That response only left Harley with more questions than answers, but he decided that was enough for now as he heeded Axel's words and ran upstairs. Axel chewed on his bottom lip in worry, rushing to the safe shoved in a coat closet where they kept their own guns locked away and hidden.
Harley quickly found Jackie as he arrived at the top of the stairs, for she was walking down the hall towards her and Axel's room with a laundry basket full of clothes perched on her hip, her large belly causing her walk to look slightly like a waddle.
"Jackie!" Harley breathed, rushing forward to take the basket from her.
"Harley?" She asked in confusion, allowing the man to take the basket from her hands as she stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Something's going on outside, we don't know what, but we have to stay upstairs and make sure no one comes up," he explained in a panic.
"Are you serious?" Jackie gasped, one of her hands immediately shooting up to hold her stomach. "Like, a gang fight?"
"No idea. Just people with guns."
"Where is Axel-" she began to freak out, moving to go downstairs before Harley shot a hand out to stop her.
"He's downstairs. We'll be fine, we just have to lay low for a bit." Harley stared at his feet for a second, thinking over the situation again, before a jolt of fear pierced through him, constricting his heart. His head whipped up to look at Jackie with wide, panicked eyes.
"Lucas, Daniel, and Elijah are out. We need to get a hold of them," he gasped. Harley then began to lose his cool as he desperately fished for his cellphone from his pockets, and now it was Jackie who had to remind him to hit the brakes.
"I'm sure they're okay, something like this has happened before, where there were some people shooting at each other in a nearby street. They'll stay away until it's safe. Axel has probably already called them, but try Lucas at least."
"You're right," Harley breathed shakily, fingers trembling as he pulled up Lucas' contact. He paced slightly as he waited for his boyfriend to pick up, Jackie waiting next to him with bated breath. There was a click on the other end of the line, and Harley froze, perking up in hope.
"Hey," Lucas' deep face filtered in.
"Hey-" Harley choked, almost forgetting to breathe for a moment. "Did Axel tell you-"
"Yeah, Axel called to inform. . ." Lucas glanced down the street worriedly, squinting his eyes against the sun as the rays reflected off of the trucks rolling down the road, whose beds were filled with people brandishing rifles. "I'm afraid we're not in a good spot. They're here."
"Luke-"
"Elijah went off to Nana's to make sure she stays safe. I have Daniel with me," Lucas pursed his lips, meeting Daniel's own worried gaze. The two were usually very confident in their abilities to escape danger, but this, whatever this was, shook them to the core.
Which is why Lucas decided he needed to say something to Harley, to prepare for the worst.
"Harls," he began, voice hitching with emotion, as Daniel's fell even more. "I just want you to know, need you to know that I love you."
Harley stared at the wall ahead horrified, shaking his head in denial. "Lucas. Please don't act like this is goodbye-"
"Harley, we will do our absolute best to get home, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happens and I never got to say I love you for one last time. Okay?"
Harley squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a shuddering breath as he replied: "I love you."
"Te amo," Lucas whispered back, before the line suddenly went dead. Harley still had the phone plastered against his face, as he stood completely paralyzed.
"Harley? What's hap-"
"They're going to try to get back to us, but they're in trouble. Lucas had a reason to believe that could have been goodbye," Harley sputtered, stomping over to his bedroom window to gaze outside, noticing exactly what Axel was talking about.
The street was filled with people milling about, men holding long rifles against their chests with bullet protection. Some had incredibly elaborate attire on, adorned in full riot gear, and Harley knew some of those guns had to have been hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars.
Who the hell had that kind of money?
Lucas stared at the people roaming the street on foot, weaving around parked cars as they paraded around with their weapons, relishing in other people's fear. A few Southside guys who were standing on the other side of the street conversing with one another, didn't seem to appreciate the high and mighty energy these people were exuding. They sauntered up to a couple of men who were not armed with guns, seeming to have the wherewithal to know who they likely even had a chance with if push came to shove.
"Who the hell are you people?" One of the Southside men asked, his tan skin glistening under the heat with sweat, a dark patch apparent on the chest of his white tank top.
The group of men they walked up to simply stared at them without a word, eyes taking them in with a judgmental gaze.
"Not gonna say 'nothin?" The other Southside man asked, this one much older, as he had long, greying hair and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Perturbed by the lack of a response from the other men, the older guy sucked on his cigarette, blowing the smoke teasingly into the group's face with a little chuckle.
Lucas could see the moment something had snapped within them, the very second the man in the middle lost all self control.
He snatched a can of mace from his utility belt, unloading the canister into the older man's face, who howled in pain and clutched at his eyes. The scene drew the attention of the entire convoy, whose heads whipped over like a bunch of meerkats to the commotion.
"What the fuck is wrong with you pricks?" The younger Southside man screamed as the guy who had just gotten sprayed hunched over, almost to the floor, and the man on the furthest left hand side finished the job by shoving his thick leather boot into the older gentleman's stomach. There was a low whoosh as the air left his lungs, and he crumpled to the ground like a marionette who had its strings cut. The Southside man looked as though he was about ready to start fighting the others, as he brought out a pocket knife and flicked it open, but before he could even get a swing in, his eyes were soon also filled with bright orange mace as he was beaten into the ground.
The Southside men continued to be beaten as the one in the middle of the group turned, raising his arm to point disparagingly at the two curling in to protect themselves from the endless barrage of kicks and hits raining down from above.
"See this? This is what you Southside scum deserve! These streets are filled with unnecessary violence, and we're here to put an end to it! To protect our families and our livelihood!" He roared, to which the rest of the group jeered in agreement.
"Let's clean up our street, if no one else is going to do it!" The man screamed, pumping his fist into the air with a final rallying cry. A sudden shout from Lucas' left rang through the air, as a man was dragged out from the alley in between the corner store and a nail salon. The men from the street began to swarm like an angry hornet's nest, dragging people around, beating on them, yelling in their face, any and all means to show dominance over them.
Lucas arrived to a nauseating realization as he watched the chaos unfold before him. These people who came armed to the teeth- they weren't about to just gun them all down and call it a day.
They wanted to instill fear into them, to resort to the heavy weaponry only if things got out of hand, if people fought back too hard- but the real goal was to make people suffer.
Make people hopeless and cower to them.
To bow down to the Northside.
"Come on, we need to get back. I don't want to be here when they decide to start using those guns," Lucas turned towards Daniel, who nodded eagerly, as they attempted to remain subtle in the dash towards Lucas' car, which was parked directly in front of the corner store.
They just about made it too, with Lucas' hand wrapped around the handle to the driver's door, before the cold sensation of a gun's barrel pressed into the back of his head.
"And where do you think you're going?" A man grinned sinisterly, the click of the safety being flicked off ringing throughout the air as Lucas could feel the blood pumping in his head.
Harley had enough waiting around, refusing to allow a mere phone call to be the last time he heard from his boyfriend. If they could go help them, they should.
"Axel! Axel!" He called as he rushed down the stairs, and he was greeted with the sight of his brother sitting on the floor using the couch as cover, hand clenched tightly around the handle of a pistol as his wild eyes whipped up to look at Harley.
"Harley!" Axel hissed. "What the hell are you doing? Get back upstairs!"
Shaking his head, Harley refused. "No. We need to help Lucas and-"
Before he could finish, an ear splitting crack reverberated throughout the house, the two men going dead silent as their eyes narrowed in on the front door where the sound had been emitted. There was another beat of silence, where all of time seemed to come to a standstill, before another ear splitting crack pierced through the home, the wood near the lock of the door splitting and splintering, spewing little pieces out onto the floor in front.
Harley felt his entire body go cold, before the door suddenly burst open, daylight streaming in as a bunch of men came barreling through.
~
Something really strange is going on- what do you all think is happening?!