“My Dad wants me to go to school at Pacific Grove High School. My sister graduated from here.”
“Too fuckin’ bad. We heard about your ol’ fuckin’ man. He supposed to be a bad dude. We got that covered, homey. We pop him like a bad pimple. You reported us. That means a death sentence!”
Knowing you’re wasting your time reasoning with someone did not enter into Benny’s consciousness. He had no fear, and he had no hesitation to speak his mind. “My Dad would like you to also stop dealing drugs in and around the school. I asked him to let me convey the message to you so as to avoid violence.”
It took many minutes for Squiggy and his gang to stop enjoying Benny’s declaration.
“So…so… you come here to face off?” Squiggy launches into another snorting, jiving appreciation of Benny. “You stone cold dumb, B! You think you a loner bad ass, huh?”
Benny shrugged. He gestured at the approaching people at his back. “I’m not alone. This is my sister Jean, and brothers Sonny and Quinn. That’s our dog Sammy next to her.”
It was then Squiggy and his crew noticed the scarred blonde woman approaching with two huge guys bracketing her. A lean, white, longhaired dog strode panther like at the blonde’s side. Squiggy glanced back and nodded at one of the guys in the rear. He reached into his hoodie. The dog streaked into him, jaws clamping and tearing at the reaching arm, while crushing him to the pavement. Sammy glanced at Benny who held a hand in a leveling gesture. Sammy held in place.
“Anyone else reaches, I pin their hand to their chest,” Jean said.
“With what, bitch?” Squiggy reached.
No one saw the knife emerge or take flight with power. Squiggy felt something thud into his hand. He staggered backward, glancing down to see a knife handle protruding from the back of his right reaching hand, pinned into his chest. He screamed. Jean strolled forward and yanked the knife free with a vicious arm and hand movement, leaving Squiggy to fall on his rear end in shock. Squiggy clutched the wounded hand in place at his bleeding chest. Jean, Sonny, and Quinn moved amongst Squiggy’s crew.
“On your knees, kiddies,” Jean ordered. “We’re not the cops. Do as you’re told or we shoot you all in the head.”
Quinn flipped Sammy’s takedown victim over as if he were a ragdoll and frisked him with professional thoroughness. Sonny threw other reluctant members of Squiggy’s crew onto their faces if they didn’t get on their knees. Jean focused on Squiggy holding his damaged hand tight against his chest wound.
“We were asked by a police friend of ours to look in on your drug operation here at the high school, shit-for-brains. Our brother Benny attends here. My Dad wants this stopped. We’re going to call the cops to pick you idiots up. We’ll be filing charges according to what they find on you thugs at the entrance to a school.”
Squiggy sat straighter, sweating and feeling the pain. “Bitch… you better-”
“Shut-up, stupid!” Jean grabbed Squiggy’s hair, shaking his head violently. “Don’t make threats, shit-head! We take them personally. I’ll carve the nose off your face if you’re still stupid enough to make dumbass statements!”
Squiggy saw death appear as Jean flipped open the knife that had taken him down. He began rubbing his inner right leg. “I…I’m done.”
The fifty caliber hollow point slug splattered Squiggy’s compatriots behind him with blood, brain, and skull material. Jean straightened, her arms gesturing at the sky above. “What the hell, Dad?”
“Check the inside of his right leg he was rubbing, Daughter of Darkness.”
Jean’s mouth tightened as she stayed silent while checking Squiggy’s right leg while enduring her siblings’ suppressed amusement. “Damn it… I… oh crap.”
Dead Squiggy strapped a hideaway .32 caliber automatic at his ankle. The .50 caliber shot had scattered the crowd forming to check out the confrontation. Squiggy’s crew knelt unmoving with hands locked behind their heads as ordered. The kill shot removed any rebellious behavior they had been contemplating. Jean frowned as her Mom’s chuckling enjoyment of the missed firearm sounded loud and clear over their networked coms.
“You didn’t need a spotter for this, Dad,” Jean mumbled as they stripped weapons and drugs off the kneeling gangbangers.
“Apparently, I did. I’m sure you would have beat him down before he shot you in the head, but I couldn’t take the chance,” Nick replied.
“You were toast, you scarred up little turd,” Rachel zapped Jean. “What did you think the guy was doing, counting his toes?”
“If things were like when I was a kid, Dad would be in prison, Trailer-trash.”
“We wouldn’t take a gig like this under those rules of engagement, Viper,” Nick said as sirens sounded in the distance. “Neil will be there himself. The school’s been terrorized by those punks for a long time. We can’t have Benny caught in a crossfire at the school. Don’t forget to show your ID’s if Neil isn’t first on scene.”