Barbed Boys

Prologue

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"FEDERAL OFFENCE"

I'd gotten excited when I saw the words at the top of the page.

Turns out the file in front of me was an eye roller. The face of a stupid kid with a stupid rap sheet. Drugs. Petty theft. Defamation of public property. He'd smashed his neighbour's mailbox. He'd had an assault charge against a young girl, but the charges had been dropped in less than twenty-four hours.

Usually I'd laugh his candy stripped button up shirt and pimple poxed face right out of my office. Maybe give him a call and tell him to retake his work ID picture and leave it at that. Done and dusted. There'd be some minimal resistance from my brother, but otherwise he'd go on being a moronic teenager who'd wind up in a juvenile delinquent facility within the next six months.

Sadly, that wasn't the case here because he'd pissed off some pretty big people despite his pathetic rap sheet. His biggest crime was stealing from his dealer, who's dealer didn't like to be stolen from. Honestly, I'd be doing him a favor just shooting him in the head and not leaving him to the bigger and badder guys to flay.

If that wasn't enough to get me to do the job then there was also the nice fat wad of cash that I had sitting next to me. And that was just the down payment for taking a look at the file. I'd get the rest when the job was done. And that was why my brother and I would be carrying out this particular job ourselves. It would set us up for months if not the whole year.

On the other hand, the location of the hit would prove rather difficult seeing as it was a public place. Though it would definitely be easier to get him at his place of work rather than his house. It'd suck if he escaped because he knew the place well. Probably even had a weapon of his own somewhere, but he'd be unarmed at work. Plus if we hit him after hours, we wouldn't have any family to deal with.

The Scoop.

That was the name of the ice cream shop he worked at. It was kinda funny when I thought about it. My brother and I shooting up an ice cream shop. I hadn't stepped foot in one since I was nothing but a little boy learning how to tie my shoe laces. Well, no one could say no to a good sugar rush. Who cares if I got it off shooting a gun and not the ice cream?

Unfortunately it would be a kid on the other side of it, but I'd learned a long time ago that sentiment got you no where. Age was just a number. This boy may have been studying in petty crimes, but I wouldn't want to be around when he thought it was time to graduate.

Luckily I had this kid's life in my hands right now. I had spent the whole day pouring over every facet of his life that my people were able to dig up. That included the piece paper currently holding my attention, his work schedule. Our men were thorough when they briefed me on a target.

Randy Webber was a dead boy walking.

I had it planned out. We'd strike after hours while he was closing up shop to limit any chance of unwanted casualties and the risk of getting caught.

In and out.

It was my motto for everything. Hits, grocery shopping, sex. The file said he had a coworker, but we'd have to work around that. No big deal. If we needed to eliminate them too we would, but maybe we wouldn't have to. It'd be great if we didn't.

I liked to keep as much blood off my hands as possible. Besides the fact I didn't need anymore than necessary at this point in my life but also it was insanely inconvenient to get rid of a body.

If came down to it though I'd do it. It was a shame, but more so because I wouldn't loose any sleep over it, not anymore at least. My conscience had been fried a long time ago and nothing was going to bring it back from the dead.

Especially not some kid in an ice-cream shop.

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A/N- It's finally happening! A new story! I'm so excited for this I have no words, but with 'POSTED' almost done, I think its time :)

Get ready for a crazy ride!