The Street-Fighting Nerd- Rewritten

Chapter 2

•Ravens POV•

After dropping my car off at my garage near the house and picking up the one Bill gifted me when I turned sixteen, I headed to the place I live in. The old Dodge Charger and the stunning roof over my head is all Bill has given me besides scars and bruises. As I pull the car into the driveway, I notice the kitchen light is on. It's almost ten o'clock at night, meaning he's probably drinking or already passed out on the floor. My room is on the second floor of this almost all glass house. The entire bottom floor is open glass while the top where the rooms are, is more steel and concrete. I decided to grow a pair and go through the front door.

The moment I stepped through the door, his hand latched onto my hair and I was thrown to the ground. My jaw hit first making my vision blurry. A large boot came barreling at my ribs, knocking the wind outta me. I groaned, feeling the bone crack a little.

" Where were you? Huh, answer me you little slut!" Bill screamed down at me as spit flew from his beer smelling mouth. I looked up at him as I pushed myself to my knees.

" I was out with friends, sir. I didn't realize how late it was. I'm sorry, sir." I sounded scared. Perfect. He grinned down at me.

" Ready for your lashings, girl?" He slurred out. I nodded my head slowly. If I fought, he'd make it hurt worse. He grabbed me by my bicep and lifted me up. It hurt to take deep breaths and my jaw throbbed. Very soon my back will be throbbing too. As we passed by the kitchen, I saw almost twenty beer bottles on the table and floor. He had some papers out as well, away from the knocked over bottles. Hopefully I can come back down later and look through it.

He drug me up the stairs and into his room. He uses some string he has to tie my wrist to the post of his bed as he lifts the back of my shirt. I wonder how he'll count the lashes today.

" Since it's ten o'clock at night, you'll get ten lashes, understand?" Came his slurred words with a grinning tone. I just nodded my head. The first ones aren't that bad. But once he starts going over the ones he's already made is when the pain becomes too much. You'd think after years of this with the amount of scar tissue I have, it wouldn't hurt too much. It has gotten better over the years, but it still brings tears to my eyes and yells to my lips. But I bite my lip. I wait.

Once he's done, untied me, and face plants on his bed, I walk to the other side of the house where my room is. He doesn't go in my room, but if for some reason he did, I have a print lock on it so he couldn't get in. I push in the hidden panel and watch as it slides back revealing the small thumbprint locking system. Placing my thumb on it, the door unlocks and the small panel slides back over and conceals the print lock. Stepping into my room, I look around.

The dark blue walls with one wall a ceiling-to-floor window overlooking the small patch of woods we have near the house. The wall across from my king sized all black bed is all glass shelves, holding little things I've gotten from traveling or were gifts from the twins. The only picture I managed to save of my whole family before they were killed sits on the small two-door black nightstands. Blacklight posters of mushrooms and trippy images line my ceiling along with the strips of black-lights. My all red gaming set-up with a PC and a few consoles sits on the wall with the door. My bathroom and walk in closet doors are on opposite sides near the glass wall. And right near my bed is a hidden door where I keep my on person weapons. Speaking of which, I forgot my rifle case in the car.

Changing my clothes into some form fitting sweatpants and a loose shirt, I slip on my house shoes and walk out of my room, the door automatically locking once it clicks shut. Quietly walking down the stairs, thankful for the short hallway that's cuts away from his room. I make it down the stairs and look over at the kitchen again. I stop. The papers still lay there, as if asking me to look through them. Looking back up the stairs and listening, making sure he's not coming down, I walk over to the papers and look over them.

It was mostly just records of different purchases and transactions. They spent most their money on having pleasure workers sent to their gang house, sadly no address was listed. However, one page of transactions and purchases really caught my eye. Apparently, they had multiple crates of semiautomatic weapons sent to the gang house a few days ago, and the guns came from a person the leader had sent a large sum of money to before. And then early today, that person sent a large sum of money to the leader of The Vipers. Thankfully I had my phone on me, so I took some pictures of the pages and sent them to Elijah. I need him to find this person, quickly. If they are an active ally of The Vipers, taking them out could cripple their inflow of goods and weapons. This could be vital for our investigation.

Returning the papers to their semi-neat stack, I quickly go out the front door and unlock my trunk, grabbing the case. As quietly as possible, I go back inside, lock the door, and walk upstairs. The short walk to my room from there felt to long and unlocking my door felt even longer. Finally inside, I took a breath. Walking around my bed in the center of the room, I feel along the wall until my finger hits the small indented button and push in. The door releases some air as it moves back and slides into place, allowing me to walk through. The automatic lights switch on, showing off the displays of handguns, rifles, semi automatics, sniper rifles, knives, and swords stacked on steel hanging posts. Placing the sniper rifle in its rightful spot, I turn around and go back into my room. The door slides back into place and the room disappeared.

Walking into my bathroom, red carpets, towels, curtains, intimate artwork, shelves, and assorted items came into view. I really love red, black, grey, and dark blues. But red would have clashed badly if I had too much in my bedroom, so my bathroom became the all red and white decorated room. After showering and tending to sore jaw and probably cracked ribs, I went to my bed and sat down.

Lying down, I let my thoughts run. If we can get The Black Thorns to join our investigation, get information together and share what we already have, it could boost the original plan up by a couple years. And if we can track down The Vipers ally, that could boost it by a few months as well. That means there's a good chance I'll be able to kill them all in as little as three or four years. That thought makes me smile as I drift off to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nothing exciting about this, just a little filler. What'd you think?
I will try to post a chapter each week as well but I honestly don't know if I will be able to stick to that.