Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 25 - Completely, Utterly, and Entirely Alone

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART TWO: Memories That Don't Seem To Fade

Chapter 25 - Completely, Utterly, and Entirely Alone

The days passed quickly. Much of James' time was spent dealing with gang business and missions while Ally either wandered through the base's various hallways and facilities or relaxed in the reticent of her room. Without the constant weight of stress, her nightmares had all but stopped. However, the inactivity also brought an overpowering boredom that seemed to afflict Ally throughout each moment.

It was especially potent on the days that she remained in her room but as time wore on, Ally found herself choosing to do so more and more. The small amount of relief that she received from venturing out of her room was just not worth the lecherous stares of the men that she passed.

Be that as it may, on this particular day, Ally could not bring herself to remain inside those same, claustrophobic four walls. She was slowly driving herself to insanity with the number of hours she was spending sitting on her bed and she was determined to entertain herself, even with her limited options.

So, she searched back through her memories in pursuit of a recollection that would help her find any room of the base featuring some form of entertainment. She found none.

Ally sighed. She would have to explore then. So, she stepped from her room and began her journey.

The first room she entered was a bedroom, finely furnished with polished wood and tones of red. She recognized it instantly as her brother's room, the one where he had tried to break her once and for all, but instead discovered her true identity. She exited quickly.

The next three rooms she passed were offices, identifiable by the glass panels that substituted regular wall to both sides of each door.

At their end was a split in the hallway. White walls continued uninterrupted ahead of her and branched off to her left. Ally glanced between her choices uncertainly. Then, she thought, "When have I ever done anything the normal way?" and turned to the left.

There was only one door near the beginning of the seemingly endless hallway, an unimpressive slab of wood to her right. She sighed, resting her hand on the tainted doorknob, and hoped for the best.

The first thing she saw when she entered was a single punching bag, swinging with the force of one man's punch. Sweat ran down his brow and soaked the back of his wife beater as he swung again, his hands covered in boxing gloves.

It was a gym. Ally smiled and ducked inside quickly. The door shut gently behind her as she looked around in wonder.

The gym was wide and open, easily able to fit a basketball court within its depths. The ceiling towered above, held up by wide crossing metal beams. Punching bags hung from a lowered ceiling to the far corner of the entrance. Workout machines -including weight lifting benches, treadmills, and bikes- lined the opposite wall. The center of the gym was left bare. The wooden floor gleamed under the bright industrial lights, only interrupted by a few wrestling mats. The whole room smelled like sweat and body odor, a scent that would have revolted any other woman, but Ally was in her element.

Somewhere during the course of her observations, the man had stopped his assault on the punching bag and, when her gaze finally returned to him, she found his eyes to be trained on her. "Are you lost?" he hollered across the gym, raising an eyebrow as he wiped a towel across his forehead. "This doesn't exactly seem to be your scene."

Ally only glared at him in response, narrowing her eyes. She spun on her heel and moved to the punching bag furthest from him, almost twenty-five feet away. There, she immediately swung a right hook into the heavy bag and sent it swingingly sharply to the side. The hit was quickly followed by a series of swift punches that threatened to tear the bag from its rope and ended with a round-house kick.

She could feel the weight of the gang member's gaze on her back as she began the routine again, venting all of her pent up anger, frustration, and ire on the defenseless sack of sand, but she ignored him. The sound of her kicks and punches echoed throughout the large room.

"You're not doing it right," he commented.

"Yes, I am."

Heavy footsteps approached from behind her. "Listen here, wench. I'm only trying to help you. Your brother will not always be around to protect you."

She calmly caught the heavy bag and stilled its frantic swinging before turning to look at him. "I do not need my brother to protect me, and you are not trying to help me. All you wish to do is establish that you're better than me with some flawed sense of macho dominance."

The man growled in annoyance, grabbing her wrists and twisting them behind her back roughly. Ally cried out in pain as he applied more pressure, her leg kicking back on instinct. Her heel connected with his knee and his grip loosened slightly. She was almost able to pull her hands free but he recovered quicker than she was used to, shoving her into the wall. She gritted her teeth as he reapplied the lost pressure to her arms, leaning down to place his mouth by her ear. "It would seem that my flawed sense is not so flawed after all."

She struggled against him fiercely, a hiss leaving through her teeth, but he subdued her easily, tangling one fist in her hair so that any movement would only cause her pain. "You will always be inferior compared to men," he stressed boorishly, pulling her head back harshly so that she was forced to look at him over her shoulder. "You will always lose."

Ally began to fearfully wonder how far he was going to take his 'lesson' as she realized, in that particular instance, the man was right. She was defenseless and at his mercy.

She never found out the answer to that question because, in that instant, someone slammed the door open and called into the room, "Hey, we've got a mission! Boss wants you at the garage in five."

The ruffian pinning her to the wall retracted his hands from her person then, but apparently still did not consider his point made because he threw her to the floor in the next breath. "Take care that you do not offend anyone else in this base," he told her, his eyes filled with disgust at the filth polluting his sanctuary. "Some may not be as lenient as I."

Ally did not dare move until his footsteps had faded completely, then sprinted back to her room with rushed and desperate steps. Her world was crashing down around her. She was being told that under no circumstances would she escape her brother's gang unscathed, no matter how dedicated and careful his protection.

In the morning, she promised herself, she would forget. But for that moment, she allowed the pain to consume her.

That night she fell asleep on the floor, collapsed at the foot of her bed.