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

Chapter 69 - Eye of the Storm

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART FOUR :: Leave The Front Line Behind

Chapter 69 - Eye Of The Storm

James' eyes were cold and focused as they swept across the line of men standing at attention before him, their dark attire closely matching his own. Kyle stood proudly to his right, his title of second in command unquestionable, with a leather jacket covering his shoulders and heavy, ebony boots laced up to his ankles. A Uzi Sub-machine gun was displayed across his chest, his hold on it relaxed but ready at the same time.

"Does everyone here understand the importance of this mission? Speak now if you don't, because the future of this gang base rests on the outcome of tonight."

Not a single head turned. There were no childish glances to see if anyone else would speak and there was no murmuring. His men knew their place in this and they would follow him to their deaths if that was what it took to defend the closest thing they had to a family.

James gave a sharp nod, signifying them to be dismissed, but was surprised to find that no one moved from their positions. Instead, every eye was intently watching something over his shoulder. The sound of heels clicking on the tiled floor behind him met his ears only seconds before he glanced behind him.

"No," he snapped immediately, his gaze leveled directly on his sister as she walked to stand beside him.

She tilted her head slightly to the side, a smirk settling on her lips as she saw the reaction all of his men were having to her appearance. "Why, dear brother? Do you think I can't handle my own in a fight?"

James gave her a deliberate once over, taking in her tight black skinny jeans that ended in high heeled boots rising slightly above her ankle and the low-cut, deep red blouse that fluttered around her torso as she walked. A loose black hoodie hung open to display the revealing shirt, the hood pulled over her head with perfectly curled ringlets of blonde hair peeking out from under it.

"A fight?" James asked with a scoff, giving her a pointed look. When she only raised one eyebrow in response and her focus remained solely on his face, he inconspicuously slid his hand behind his back, the tip of his thumb and pointer finger coming together to form a circle that he knew his men would notice and recognize. Immediately, a member towards the far right of the line broke off from the rest and began to make his way towards her. Carefully circling her as if sizing her up to decide whether or not she should come, James drew her gaze further from the approaching gang member as she swiveled on her heels until her back was to the men. She crossed her arms in front of her, leaning heavily on one leg as she stared back at him with a schooled expression, careful to show nothing.

His man acted quickly, a muscular arm wrapping around his sister's thin neck as he applied enough pressure to get the point across but not enough to actually choke her. His gun, the safety still on for the sake of this only being a demonstration, was forced into her side enough for her to know it was a threat. James wished that he could've said he saw surprise fly through her eyes when his man grabbed her, but she showed no signs of shock.

Before James had a chance to blink, she slid a knife out of her sleeve and quickly sliced a thin, shallow cut along the top of the man's wrist, his arm falling away as he hissed in pain. She quickly whirled around, sending a punch to his jaw. As he stumbled backwards into the wall in a daze, another knife appeared in her hands, presumably from her other jacket sleeve. Making quick work of her opponent, she sent the two knives slicing through the air with a simple flick of her wrist. The sharp blades made contact with the wall only after cutting through the man's jacket sleeves, effectively pinning him to the erect structure.