Vendetta

Chapter 7: Sooner or later

Dakota
October's End
~~~

I slammed my fist into his nose, relishing in the bone's crack-breaking. Blood erupted from his face- I grunted, pleased with myself. Behind me, I could hear the distinct sound of skin on the skin from Pedro pulverizing one of Quintin's goons. Suddenly, the silver glint of a pocket knife caught my attention. I turned to my left just barely dodging the slice of the blade.

I stepped backward and glared at the coward in front of me. "Thought we were fighting fairly, Quin?" I asked, stepping back and smirking. "What?" I raised my eyebrow and spread my arms, palms up. "Can't take a hit?"

"Fuck you." He spat, blood dripping from his nose. He clutched the knife in his hand. The moon's light glinted off the blade and I couldn't help but smile a little. Almost arrogantly.

I reached into the waist of my pants and pulled out one of my most prized possessions-a sleek silver Glock-and pointed it at his head. Confident with my aim, and I sure as hell wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

That's something that both he and I recognized.

I challenged him with my glare.

"Since we're not playing fair, might as well even out the field, huh?" I said in a menacing tone, promise dripping from my words. Quintin hesitated, and I smirked, looking down my nose at him. Pedro stepped up beside me, his arms crossed. Out of my peripheral, I could make out the slumped body sprawled out on the parking lot ground.

"Should know better than to bring a knife to a gunfight...Bitch,"

Quinten glances around him, with two of his guys knocked out and the last one clutching a broken nose and an eye swollen shut, Quintin hesitated. He let out a frustrated "shit" his resolve melting away.

He relinquished his fighting stance and flipped his knife closed. When I was sure he would not try to launch at us, I let my guard down slightly. I took a step back, still aiming the gun at him. We made eye contact as I backtracked a few feet towards my car and then I turned, tucking my baby back into my waistband. Pedro and I made our way across the empty parking lot.

I looked back at Quintin over my shoulder who still stood in the lot. He had his arms crossed as he watched us from the distance.

I laughed a little to myself.

✴︎✴︎✴︎

At home, I lay in bed my head resting upon my arm. A gentle breeze ruffled my curtains. I stared up at my ceiling, a soft frown pressed between my brows. I thought over the events that had occurred tonight.

The Hole has been packed and Leo wasn't there. Pedro and I had come to collect the money he'd promised and although we received it, it wasn't from him like we usually did. That didn't sit right with me. Leo always took care to be present, just to praise us for our good work. Lenny was only a "manager" under Leo. I liked Leo a lot better than his shit-eating brother.

I wondered what came up for him. Then there was Quintin. The motherfucker decided he'd try to catch us out back where no one would see. He was well aware that I'd handle his ass, yet he still tried.

He just couldn't let a grudge go.

Fuck.

I examined my bruised knuckles and cut up I balled my hand into a fist, smiling in triumph.

Outside my window, the city's soft buzz of bustling could be heard below. Chicago is one hell of a city, good and bad in its way. I love it here. I favored the brisk winters and hated the summers simply because they brought back memories, I wish I could erase. Albeit the memories granted me a chance to see her smile again.

Her smile...beautiful and bright. Aella is a beautiful girl with an aura so pure it bewitched even the darkest hearts. She is an angel in disguise.

"Kota..." Her voice was so soft and heavy with concern. She looked up at me, a pained expression set in the profile of her beautiful face. Her hands clutch one of mine, thumbs grazing the purple bruises that adorned my knuckles. She reached up to hover a hand over my cheek, where a nasty gash was just beginning to purple and bruise. Her worried eyes flickered across my face. And I couldn't help but stare in awe. She was beautiful. Even with the small crease in her brow and the dip at the corners of her mouth. I leaned in and-

The soft click of the front door opening made me snap back to reality. My hearing homed in on the sound.

"I'm home!" My aunt sang in her haughty voice. I smiled to myself and climbed off my bed. I snatched a white tee out of my drawer and pulled it on before opening my bedroom door. Ahead of me, the kitchen light is on and visible down the hall. I advanced toward where I knew my aunt would be.

Nicole's head was in the fridge as she dug around, mumbling to herself about 'starving'.

"Hey, Auntie," I greet her with a smile as she turns to face me.

She smiles and comes from around the island to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Despite the height difference, my aunt wasn't that much shorter than me, and the way she carried herself-acting as if she was much taller than she was granted her a few extra millimeters. Imaginary ones of course.

"How was your flight?" In her hands, she held a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it.

"Terrible!" She whined. She reached up and pulled her hair out of the sleek puff. I hummed a laugh as she began eating her cake and explaining why her first-class business flight was so "terrible". Aunt Nicole had been on a trip to Paris as her fashion company's chairwoman. She had to meet with top fashion personnel and the fashion board or whatever it was called.

***

"Have things gotten any better...?" We were sitting on the couch catching up and watching   The Three Stooges in the living room. Aunt Nicole had her long legs tucked under her and a pillow propped on her lap as she leaned on the arm of the couch. I sat with my head propped up by my fist and stretched my legs out in front of me crossing them at my ankles.

I eyed my aunt. She was going for a subtle approach, but I could tell by the fidgeting of her fingers that she was nervous to ask. She saw how things ended badly, but she didn't know how badly they had affected me. I sighed and rolled my eyes back to the TV.

I wasn't watching it; my mind was elsewhere. On Aella's laugh. Her bright eyes.

Knowing Axel just passed...I know she was going through it. I know she needed somebody right now. Sadly, I wasn't the someone who could be there for her right now. It's not because I didn't want to. I wanted nothing more than to comfort her. I wanted to tell her that everything was okay. I wanted to hold her and make sure she knew I cared.

She was done with me, and she has been for a while now.

"Things..." I hesitated. "are as good as they can get, I suppose..." Settling for an easy answer I changed the subject. "But boxing's going well." I smiled over at her showing her my knuckles where they were bruised and slightly discolored. She narrowed her eyes at me and shook her head in disapproval. Aunt Nicole hated that I "boxed", but she knew why I did it. Even though these bruises weren't from my extracurricular activities, I'd let her believe they were for the sake of her heart. Well technically they were from "extracurricular activities", but I didn't have to point out exactly which ones.

She wouldn't be able to handle another incident.

Like my father.

My anger was quite explosive and impulsive and "boxing" helped me tone it down some and focus myself. I laughed at her reaction, and we continued watching The Stooges. She got the memo I didn't want to talk about Aella, and she kept quiet about it.

For now.

I knew eventually she'd want the full details. And I wouldn't be able to get out of it.