UNHOLY

My Husband

"Fuck."

May muttered, flinching. It hurt so bad where those bastards had kicked him. For a moment there, he thought time had stopped. He knew he wouldn't pass out from that beating. But the sheer anger and pain had driven him wild. Now that he looked down on the bodies strewn around and some leaning against the dirty wall, he didn't feel at peace or guilty. He felt nothing but irritated. It'd take some time for him to find another shelter. And here he was, hoping he'd be able to mooch off of these guys for a couple months at least...

"Did you perhaps mistake them for cockroaches or gutter rats, kid?"

The voice came suddenly, dripping with amusement amidst the rain. May stiffened and turned slowly, the iron pipe in his hand felt like a part of his arm as he swung it hard. If this smooth pipe had even the slightest bit of edge, the other person's head would've been separated from their body and rolled off far. But his strike was blocked by a hard, bulky arm. May's eyes widened slightly but he didn't get worked up. Taking a step back, he was ready to strike again when the same voice said, still full of amusement,

"Easy, boy, we're not here to fight."

"What do you want?" May took another step back. The man shielding the one who spoke now stepped away, still holding the umbrella over the latter's head. There was no mistaking it. They were another one of the mafia gangs. But unlike the lowlifes May just crushed, these people looked organized and even kind of cool. The person who had spoken wore fiery red shirt under black suit. The others all wore black suit and black shirt. When did they arrive? He had been so immersed in his little revenge than May had lost all other senses. Now he was surrounded. He could try running under the bridge and climb up on the other side. But these guys outnumbered him and they weren't petty street thugs, either, he thought.

"I want to help you," that person spoke, smiling. May smirked, "Yeah, as if! The fuck you smiling about, huh? Just get to the point."

"Brother," the man holding his umbrella stirred. But that man just smiled again and said, "Young people really are so impatient. I thought for now we'd just take you back home and then talk later in leisure. But if you really want to rush things...I saw you beating up those goons. It was impressive, to be honest."

May frowned, "So?"

"So...I'd like to ask you, oh, of course, no pressure," he said, "Would you like to join our family?"

Oh. May felt hope blooming inside his chest. But then he frowned again, "Is it normal for the boss himself to come recruit lackeys these days?"

"Can't say about the normal, but I do it my way," he shrugged, "So, what's your answer?"

"What do you guys do, exactly?" May lowered his hands at last and his right hand hung at his side, still holding the pipe tightly.

"Everything illegal?"

May looked the man up and down. He would be around five feet ten, he guessed. May himself was taller, and for a weird reason, he felt reassured. He asked,

"And what if I want to leave your...family...after a few months, would you let me go or I'd just end up as fish-food?"

"You're already too deep in this shit to be asking that, kid," the man smiled broadly, "You think you'd be able to escape when those behind you come back to their senses and call for backup? They'd hunt you down and you'd eventually end up as fish-food. Or buried alive. We often do that, too."

May glanced down for a moment before looking up again and asking, "Are they your men?"

"They were."

"...Did they betray you and ran off?"