Chapter Three

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One week into Curly's kidnap
Tim's (and gangs) POV
...
Stepping inside the dim-lighted pool hall, sounds of laughter filled up the room as Tim scanned each section of the row-lined tables for his gang.

The clicks of the cue sticks and the clanging sounds of the balls around him made it almost impossible to find his members.

Walking down the rows, Tim's eyes wondered from side to side as the pungent scent of cigarette smoke soared its way into the air.

Feeling a little frustrated, Tim thought about leaving the place to do his own thing until he heard his name roughly called with a cough.

Raising his head to the sound of the source. He spotted the five men in his gang.

Giving a slight nod, Tim made his way to the table.

As Tim approached the group, he could see that they were all huddled around one of the tables, intently focused on the game being played. He recognized the familiar faces of his friends: Cod Miller, shortened for Cody, who is tall, lanky, pale-skinned and unhealthy because of his drug addiction; Nate Dillion, loud and obnoxious but still managed to crack smiles on peoples faces; Jude Hudson, who was only eighteen but acted stern and serious like if he was twenty-five; Mason Martinez, the quiet one and quick to judge; and finally, Sam Davis, who is wild and carefree and often remained Tim too much of his brother.

As Tim joined them, he could feel the energy of the group shift. The guys all greeted him with nods and fist bumps, and he could tell that they were glad to see him. He felt a sense of belonging wash over him, and he knew that this was where he was meant to be.

"Hey man, you ready to play?" Nate asked, handing Tim a cue stick.

Tim grinned, feeling a surge of excitement. "You know it," he said, taking the stick from Nate and getting into position.

As the game began, Tim felt himself relax into the familiar rhythm of the pool hall. The sounds of the balls clacking against each other and the murmur of the guys' voices filled his ears, and he felt a sense of peace settle over him. For a moment, he forgot about all of his worries and just enjoyed the simple pleasure of being with his friends.

Tim, being too focused on the game, failed to hear the heavy footsteps storming at him and his gang. When a rough and booming voice called out to the gang, everyone turned their attention and heads towards the cause.

Eyes locked with a rival gang member, Alec Reynolds, standing tall and strong he showed a sense of dominance that Tim didn't like at all. The group stayed quiet as the members of Reynolds' gang popped by his side one by one.

As Alec crossed his arms, he smirked viscously at each member of the Shepard's gang. "Shepard! Long time no see, eh?" he said, his eyes taunting Tim with each second, "What are you doing here?"

Tim glanced at him with a deadly glare and scowled at his followers as he was ready to attack. "What'd you want?" He croaked.

"I want you to leave." Alec snapped immediately back, "I don't want to see no damn coloreds in my sight." His smirk faded as anger engulfed everything inside of him.

Tim felt a slight sharp pain in his chest as he clenched his fist and felt the rise of his anger. He'd been called countless names throughout his lifetime but being called 'colored' always did a number to him.

Slamming his fist onto the pool table, he tried keeping his voice at a reasonable level, "I ain't gotta listen to you," he snarled, "who are you to tell me what to do?"

"Tim. Tim. Tim." Alec gently said, clicking his tongue as he slightly shook his head, "Don't do anything you're gonna regret." His voice was deep and threatening but Tim wouldn't let Reynolds intimidate him.

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