Gangbanger Study-Buddy

Conversations and Contemplations

The light mist of rain from earlier begins to disappear leaving the gray clouds to blanket the sky in solitude. I take this moment of peace and sit on the far side of the meadow to observe the small game of 'Who Can Punch The Hardest' taking place in the middle of the grassy plain. 

After my encounter with Carlo, I didn't want to necessarily spend one-on-one time with any particular person. Luckily for me, the majority of the members are inseparable and came up to me in small groups. A few of them were still wary, which is understandable, but the rest seemed to receive my presence with open arms.  A small part of me wonders how much of that welcoming reception has to do with the fact that there are no girls present among Dante's ranks. Despite my better judgement, a bit of pride warms my soul at the thought that I'm the first girl to break Diavoli d'Italia's gender barrier–even if I'm not technically a fully-pledged member.

A loud thump brings me back to reality and I quickly bring my attention to the ring of guys that have gathered around two members in the middle of the field.  From the mop of brown curls bouncing around the make-shift ring, I can tell that Ivo has joined in the revelry.  He swiftly moves side to side with fists held up in front of his face to block a potential hit.  His opponent is large but based off his slower and less graceful movements, I conclude that the sound from before was from Ivo landing a punch. The group begins to cheer as the large man makes to move to the left but quickly changes his course and extends his right arm for a punch.  Before I can make sense of what's happening, Ivo leans back—avoiding the blow—and throws a quick jab to the right side of the man's head. Almost instantly his opponent is on the ground, disoriented.

I can't control the gasp that escapes my lips as I stare at the man sway on all fours as he tries to get back to his feet. A few of the boys clap Ivo on the back and cheer as he raises his left arm in victory. The others shake their heads in disappointment and throw some dollar bills on the ground in front of Ivo's feet. 

What the hell. They're betting on who wins the fight?

"Take it easy, Pop-Tart. It's just entertainment."

I startle at the sound of Dante's voice behind me.  Turning my head, I see him standing a few feet away with both hands in his leather jacket and a cigarette dangling dangerously from his lips. 

"I didn't know you ran a gambling ring to accompany your gang empire," I retort dryly.

His eyebrow quirks in amusement as he slowly strides the last few steps between us. "Yea," he mumbles around his cigarette and takes a seat next to me in the grass. "It's my third greatest source of income following the prostitutes that I pimp out on 2nd street."

My eyes widen in shock at his statement when a soft chuckle rises from deep in his chest. I never knew a laugh could sound so warm. "I'm just fucking with you," he laughs. A part of me relaxes knowing that of all the possible things he does, being a pimp isn't on the list. "I do a lot of fucked up shit but selling off women isn't one of them."

As he says this his features harden and although he's sitting right next to me, it feels as if he's a million miles away. Against my better judgement I find myself wondering what exactly he has done. He had to have done something pretty bad to land him in juvie, but obviously not something that bad to where the judge knew he was the leader of one of the biggest gangs in the world. Otherwise he'd most likely be in jail right now. 

I know I shouldn't ask but no matter how much I try to push it away I can't seem to shake the feeling of wanting to know what Dante has done.  So far I've only seen him and the rest of the guys mess around in the meadow, but I know that's not all they do if they've been able to climb to the top of the food chain and make rivals while up there.  So what exactly do they do to outrank the other gangs?