Unholy Pleasures

Cricket

Key Fourteen: Cricket:

He isn't weak. He may look it, but he's not weak. Cricket had to be able to fight in order to survive in this city. Because of this, Tate had nothing but respect for him.

At first, the others thought Cricket was a joke. One of the dogs looked him up and down.

"Who are you, kid?" he asked. Cricket stood with his hands on his skinny hips.

"Cricket, sir," he said. The older angel sneered at him.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked. Cricket wasn't going to back down. He had been on his own for too long. If he was going to survive, this was going to be his ticket. The older angel tried not to laugh.

"Really, kid?" he asked. Cricket's right eye started to twitch.

"I'm not a kid," he said through gritted teeth.

"Hm? What was that?" the older angel asked. Cricket took a breath. The other angel laughed.

"Oh, what are you going to do, kid?" he asked.

Kick!

The other angel sank down to the ground. His legs and crotch stung with pain. The other angel covered the painful area. He looked up to see Cricket grinning at him.

"Am I still a kid now?" he asked. The other angel glared at him.

"Fuck... you..." he hissed. Cricket stood, grinning.

"Can I see your leader now, please?" he asked so politely. The other angel glared at him as he gritted his teeth. Cricket bowed with grace.

"Thank you so much," he said. Then he walked into the ruined apartment building. That was how he got in.

He has to keep fighting. Tate respects him for that. Cricket wasn't a suck-up. He could talk to Tate when he needed to. There were rumors about how close they were. Crickets know what they are saying but he ignores it.

"Doesn't it bother you?" a petite female angel asked. The boy shook his head.

"No," he said. She gave him a strange look.

"Why?" she asked. "Why do you let them believe-?"

"That Tate is fucking me?" Cricket asked with a low look in his eyes. The other angel nodded. He leaned back against the steel frame of a ruined building.

"Trust me, it's easier that way," he said. He walked off back to his group for the hunt.

Cricket does what he can to survive. Tate hasn't asked him for sexual favors. The boy himself still had some standards. He didn't have to worry about that because Tate didn't strike him as the type to stoop that low to get what he wanted.

"I don't know if he let me into his group out of amusement or out of pity," Cricket admitted. "I think it was the former."

"So why do you stay?" the other small angel asked.

"For him," Cricket said without a thought.

Even he knows that something bad is coming. No, something really bad. However, Cricket doesn't know how to say it to his crew. It's a good thing that he doesn't have to. They can all feel it now. The question is what is going to happen next?

"Cricket! Cricket! Get up! It's time to go!" Tate whispered loudly in the dark. Cricket rolled over onto his back to stare up at his leader looking down at him. The smaller angel looked confused.

"What?" he asked.

"Don't ask questions! Just get up and let's go!" Tate hissed. Cricket leaped to his feet. He, Tate, and the rest of the group left that ruined apartment building in the middle of the night. Cricket was going to have to wait and see where they were going to go now. This wasn't the first time that they had to get up and leave so abruptly. The question was what was it this time? Everything had been going as good as it could get for them. What had Tate so rattled that everyone had to leave this time?

Pretty soon, there won't be any more places for them to stay and hide out.