"We're not going to your place."
The teen stared at the man that was not nearly as much of a giant in the car as he was out of its confines, where he could tower above the little people. In here, he was above Vincent, but here, he did not tower. Vincent's mouth opened. It took two tries before he succeeded in speaking through a frown while his brow furrowed, unable to make sense of his friend at the moment. It has to be my fault. Can't let the Rodriguezs know where I am now…maybe… "Why not?"
Jake focused on the yellow reflectors that rose up out of the black path when his headlights touched them, slowing to make a turn onto a branching road. He spoke while the car maneuvered through the twists in this new winding path. "You're gonna be staying at my place tonight… You're stuff's at my place."
Vincent's stare grew and he was close to gawking at Jake as he heard him speak "Why? -Why, I mean…yeah. Why would my stuff be at your place? Why do I have to stay there?" Vincent's eyes moved without a purpose when he turned away from Jake, facing forward, seeing nothing as his mind struggled to grasp what could have happened. Maybe he had fallen asleep and this all was a dream. He would wake up at Rodriguez's house, or in the hospital sitting with his uncle, or even back at his uncle's old place…where the man would shake him awake and scowl like always. Vincent's stunned mind wandered and Jake took a slow breath beside him.
"You got thrown out… Or you would've… It would've been trouble."
The boy was dumbfounded, watching Jake in an uncomprehending way, similar to the look a rabbit has when it jumps out of the wilderness and is caught by the fierce blazing, headlights of a truck that soon reduces the said rabbit to splattered guts and a tattered pelt strewn across the street. Vincent gaped at Jake and then looked around as he reached for a place to put his horror, finally finding his lap while his hands went to his cold, shocked cheeks. "Why the hell?" He breathed the airy words, missing the grimace that shot through Jake's features as he was consumed by his own misfortune. He blinked owlishly at his sweatshirt's pocket. Should he have put the presents or the container on his lap instead of in the back seat, he would have had something more to look at instead of his worn clothes. He blinked again and then jerked up hesitantly before peering at Jake from an off angle that was uncomfortable, but at the moment he could not fully straighten. "Why? Was I evicted? I-I was going to pay for the rest of the month. H-he knew that! That tiny bastard knew that I was going to pay him! Did he say why I was getting thrown out? Or-?"
Jake cut him off with a tired heave of a sigh. "You should've been there, First. And you shouldn't have been at their house!" Anger strengthened the deep voice, sending a rolling growl through it. "Why would you go with them after- after all that? I mean, god! You can't be taught anything the first time, can you?" Jake threw a glare at Vincent but didn't see the boy's startled expression when he looked away again to scowl at the road, his voice rising to echo amongst the mountainous clouds. "WHY WOULD YOU GO WITH THEM AGAIN, MAX?"
"STOP YELLING!" The ringing voices clashed within the trapped interior of the car, Vincent taking a deep, long breath as he watched Jake warily for signs of another outburst. When his lungs had been filled and nothing else was said, relief let out the teen's sigh. Pale lips tightened with the bright crimson eyes above them, watching Jake. "They came to me and took me with them. I told them to go away…but do you actually think what I say would matter to the Chief? Every time I go to their house, it's not my idea."
Jake looked at Vincent, his blank face asking what he did not say aloud.
Vincent lifted his hands, moving them as if physically placing down each sentence before him. "The first time, Rodriguez got me in his car and took me to his house, basically kidnapping me. The second time-"
"How many times have you been to their house?"
Vincent frowned with an irritated grit of the teeth. "Just listen. Okay. The second time, the Chief picked me up on the side of the road, walking home when it was pouring, and she kidnapped me, didn't even tell me she was taking me to her house, and I stayed the night there and Rodriguez drove me to school and then back to his house because my clothes had been washed there and they weren't dry in the morning…then, well." Vincent looked at the sweeping windshield wipers as he consented to tell more than had been asked for. He sighed and swallowed any anxiety he had. "He took me to some police holiday thing, a party at…" He chuckled, causing Jake to glance at him. "…at the fucking police station, the offices, not the jail. But, I mean, how goddamn stupid is that dumbass? I was pissed when he pulled up in front of it, but when the Chief came out, it all didn't turn out so bad. Then Rodriguez drove me home. The next time I saw them was when I was…er uh…trying to get that grocery job, and they came by to get eggnog or something. Then Rodriguez and his sister saw me another time just out and about and then they came back to see me again or something…and that's when they ran into you." The two looked at each other and then Jake shifted his eyes back to the road and Vincent's gaze unfocused, drifting towards the windshield. "After that… There was the fight, and the time I went to their house and everyone found out… The cops got me, that time… I went up the wall like usual but I guess cuz I was sick that… Well, I kinda passed out on the roof and the cops came and carried me down and I woke up and the Chief told me…that I wasn't going to get in any trouble but I had to go to her house and stay the night again to eat some food and rest. …but all that and then today when they came and got me again, is it. Nothing else except Rodriguez and I go to the same school, are in the same grade, and have art class first period together. And…I…bit the Chief that one time."
Jake's mouth opened and he stared mutely at the road, his memory reviving. "I forgot about that…" He glanced at Vincent questioningly with a sense of caution. "Does she know it was-?" He stopped when he saw that Vincent was already nodding, but then the teen's lips twitched into a dark smirk at the window.
"She recognized me without even having to see my face. Guess she's never run into someone as freakin' bleach white as me… Well, shit, other than freaken Michael Jackson. But that guy gives me the creeps. Good artist, but way creepy." Vincent shuddered, shutting his eyes and shaking the image from his head while Jake's mood eased into a state of numb annoyance as he saw that the boy was slipping off into his own world again. Vincent looked at Jake with a deep frown. "That guy's dead right?"
"Yeah." The man sighed, tiredly, blinking slowly as he followed the endless road. Light from buildings were beginning to congeal and clog the night with an electric glow.
"He makes me look bad." Vincent declared to the dashboard, willing to cast aside all talk about the Rodriguezs, but a pain stabbed at him that forced him to clear up what he had said, reluctantly. "Yeah…but Jake, you know, well, I know it's still my fault, going with them and everything. And I'm sorry…again…for everything. I ruined your Christmas."
Jake closed with eyes with a sigh and then watched the road drearily. "You didn't ruin my Christmas."
"Yes I did, Jake." Vincent responded with an irritated twinge in his voice, glaring at the road as his arm landed on the ridge before the window on his door. "I ruined fuckin' Christmas, for everybody. I did, so shut up or I'll start calling you Jack-bean like I should."
"Call me that and you're sleeping outside, you little punk."
Vincent was quiet, his head turning to his side window where his eyes glimpsed his bruised face in the mirror with a passing flash of light from a building's window. "So, why was I kicked out? Can't be because I was at Rodriguez's…if it was that, I don't get why that bastard would get pissy about it."
Now it was Jake's turn to be quiet as he saw the sidewalk where his car was slowly preparing to park as his hands steered it mechanically. "I went to check up on you…" He felt Vincent watch him while he spoke, just pulling up to the sidewalk. He parked, leaving the engine running and his hands on the wheel. "And…the midget and I had a…confrontation."
Vincent stared, his throat jerking with a laugh at the reference before he let a
cough/laugh come even after Jake's full confession. Jake stared at him dully, as if resenting Vincent's ability to brush this off as being nothing. Vincent laughed again, a short burst of humor that evened into a chuckle. "The midget and you had a confrontation…? Oh, that's beautiful, Jack-bean. You smashed my landlord into itty bitty pieces. You're a bona fide genius."
"Shut up, Max." The giant cut back, not willing to tolerate the teen's tone. He ripped his keys from the ignition and Vincent got out of the car and went to the back seat to gather the stacked gifts, shutting the door when Jake was standing in the street. The man shut his door and moved around the front of the car, growling through a scowl when he heard Vincent's chuckles of disbelief. Keys jangled together when Jake pointed at the sidewalk, glaring at Vincent's smirk. "Shut up or freeze your ass off. Your pick."
"I'm shutting up." Vincent nodded once, sighing with his smirk and then following Jake up the steps as the giant prepared to unlock his door. He stood behind the giant while the unlocking commenced. "So, is he dead?"
Jake glowered at the door, pushing it open roughly and then wrenching his keys out. "No." He shot back without looking for his target, stomping into the corridor and then tossing his keys on the counter in his kitchen. He split off to his room, leaving Vincent at the door with the duty of shutting and locking it. The teen set his tower of gifts on the tiles in order to do so. He took them up again and went to the mouth of the hall that led to Jake's room, finding it to be rather dark with the light turned off and the giant's door closed. Vincent passed it, flipping on the light for the living room area with his elbow before trudging over the carpet to plop himself down on the couch that he would call his bed for the night. Peering around the room without finding anything changed told Vincent where his uncle's possessions were, but he ignored the door he could see parallel to the couch he was sitting on, fixed to the wall behind the piece of furniture, and focused down at the gifts instead. Vincent took the plastic container from the top of the pillar on his lap, and lifted it above his eyes to check what food the Chief had given him. Bread stuff…good. A smile played with his lips as he set the container with the pink lid on the couch cushion beside him and grasped his first wrapped box, the smallest, tallest one. His thin fingers slipped through the crevices, peeling the tape from the wrapping paper so that he could remove it without damaging the paper. He was left with a shoe-box which naturally contained a new pair of black sneakers inside. A grin occupied Vincent's face now as he examined the shoes, taking them out from the folds of tissue paper that was packed around them. He put the shoes away and closed the box, folding up the wrapping paper and slipping it neatly inside before moving on to his next gift. A new black jacket with a soft, wooly interior. Thank God it was black. He could wear it, Vincent sighed with relief, setting it aside after providing the gift with an adequate amount of attention. The last box, when opened, revealed a new pair of jeans with a package of white socks keeping them company. Vincent was tossing the bag of socks in the air, just for the hell of it, when he heard Jake leave his room and come to investigate what the teen had been up to. When Jake's form appeared, it flinched, catching the package of socks when the bag was thrown at him. He stared at it, bringing it to his face. His eyes darkened a little, but he let it pass only to leave a frown behind. Vincent grinned at him despite this, taking it as a response to having had the socks thrown at him. Jake leaned forward and then walked towards the couch. "They got you clothes." He stated, looking at the boxes that declared this. Vincent nodded, also looking at the gifts.
"Pants, socks, jacket, and…black shoes."
Damn. Jake juggled the package of socks slowly, from one giant hand to the other, seeing the boxes. They got him everything, just about. The bag switched hands and then popped as a strong fist clasped it. Vincent started at the blast of sound and looked at Jake, but decided to pretend that he hadn't noticed. Jake did stuff like that without meaning too once in a while. It was nicer to not bring attention to it. Vincent's thoughts stopped as he saw a sock drop out of the bag to become a withered heap on the floor. The teen stared at it, his face expressionless though his eyes were slightly rounded. The guts were spilling out… Okay. Jake was mad. He was definitely mad. Vincent jerked to the side, seeing the bag that had been thrown hit the back of the couch and bounce to land on the seat cushions. Jake then turned away and went to the door Vincent had ignored before. It opened to reveal a humble closet with another door at its back wall. Jake stepped through the closet and grasped the handle of the next door, turning it before the well oiled hinges of the door moved soundlessly. Vincent felt his fatigue rush over him when he closed his eyes, wishing to escape to a better moment in his life.
Vincent's mind drifted. Space became more distant and then compact…
…
…
Jake stopped as he heard the sudden intrusion of his ringtone vibrating and chiming away in his pocket. He shut the door and stepped backwards out of the closet, pulling out the phone and flipping it open. Vincent watched quietly as the phone went to Jake's ear, and then looked down at the bag of socks he held in his hands.
"Hello?"
The caller was a mystery. No contacts in his cell phone, as was the rule for someone of his ranking. No iPhones so that the tracked history of where the phone has been would not be able to be used against them in court. No contacts, if the phone was lost or stolen, there should not be a bank of names and numbers and a labeled caller history along with messages that could be exploited by either a rival gang or the police. The phones were modified to not store any information. Memorization was needed in response. But this left the owner of the cell phone ignorant of the caller whose identity could own a certain level of importance that would dissuade the phone user from ignoring the call.
The distraught voice poured from the speaker, freezing the giant in place and widening his eyes. Vincent sensed the change in atmosphere and was left with nothing more to do other than stare at Jake, watching his brown eyes become black, as if a drop of ink had fallen into a container of shallow water, dispersing and altering the shade of the liquid, making it hostile in appearance. The giant said nothing for a long time, listening to the phone, to the voice Vincent could not hear.
"Don't let anyone do anything stupid. Do nothing for now until things get settled out and we can understand exactly what the hell is going on. Got it? Nothing. Let guys know, in case they mean to do it more than once-"
Jake's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, more ink bleeding into them. Red observed the reaction warily. The teen felt removed from the room at the moment, as unreal as a movie playing out on a screen, he was detached but fixed in place to see every action that would occur.
"Like I said, don't let anyone do something stupid. Call 'em, tell 'em to keep an eye out or get to their houses. Nothing else. Don't let them get it in their heads to start trouble if they see one of the bastards somewhere. That'd just make this-" Jake growled when he was interrupted, and his voice cut back at the speaker sharply. "Fuck! I know! No guns! We get guns and start shooting, they get their guns, and tonight's not a night where people are going to have the best- No. Rain, nobody knowing anything, it'll be a bloody mess, and the younger brats will probably get the wrong people. No trigger happy son of a bitches running wild out in the rain! Call them! Tell them to not do anything stupid. That's that. I'll call you if anything changes. …Too many of them don't know how to handle this. They don't know any better than to do something stupid, alright? Shit. Yeah, I'm sorry…I know it sucks, but it's the smart thing to do right now, unless be want to screw things up even more."
The phone snapped closed suddenly, Vincent flinching at the sound and then watching mutely as Jake strode into the closet and opened a door. He was gone for a few moments, too few sounds drifting from the closet to tell Vincent what Jake was doing, but the teen could guess. Vincent sat slouched into the couch, a mindless gaze resting on the carpeted floor. Numbed hands could not feel the forgotten bag of socks for a time, but fe
eling returned when the pale fingers twitched and found themselves restricted by the plastic that wished to hold onto his skin. Then his eyes gazed down at the bag, a hand slowly tilting it to the side until it rolled from his hand to hit the couch softly. Without the bag in his hands, Vincent waited for Jake to emerge from the closet, dull eyes lifting up to view the wall and part of the desk that was occupied by a computer. It was quiet except for the occasional sounds that made their way through the closet doors and reached Vincent's ears. He heard the giant's heavy steps returning, and Vincent closed his eyes so that he would not have to see what Jake brought with him from the place beyond his closet doors.
…
…
"Last night, a shooting occurred on D- Street at 11:05 p.m. Police say that a total of fifteen people, most under the age of 21, all of which had been drinking, were injured by bullets that shattered the windows of a residential house. The victims and neighbors have reportedly claimed to have heard what appeared to be repetitive shots of a semi-automatic weapon, too many to have been counted, possibly from more than one gun, and the sound of a car speeding away from the scene. All of those who could have served at witnesses, those who were not inside at the time of the shooting, were killed. Six individuals outside the house that had been the target of the shooting, were shot and killed. One man who was standing by his car in front of his house was also killed. Three juveniles that received no injuries are now in police custody for traces of illegal drugs or alcohol. Gang police say that this tragic crime was most likely the result of rival gang activity, as many of the victims have been identified as belonging to a street gang that exists in that area. They also believe that more shootings in retaliation will be expected should the police fail to-"
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