The Kiss of Death (Sequel)

Chapter 1: Sex on the Beach

Concentration. If you concentrate on something long enough, it will end up coming naturally to you. That's how I had first trained my muscles. It's how I made my legs to be a solid mass of sinuous fibers, my arms objects of steel, and my core like the belly of a snake. Minus the whole creepy crawly factor. I wasn't skinny. I would be the first to admit that any day. My thighs touched when I walked, my arms jiggled when they shouldn't and I loved ice cream way too much. But I had to admit I was extremely strong with some very nice curves that even I didn't mind looking at.

I punched the bag with every ounce of strength I had. All of my focus on the target at hand. Nothing from the outside world distracting me as Tupac rapped in my ears. Sweat glistened on my skin and my breath was hastily heaved in and out as I strained my muscles. This was my sanctuary.

I was suddenly shoved out of my focused state as I was flown back by an unknown force. My back hit the soft padding of the gym floor and I wheezed air in and out of my lungs as I screwed my eyes shut in pain.

"Hope I wasn't interrupting," A familiar voice said as I popped an eye open to glare at Chad.

"Motherfucker."

"Cunt."

"Twat."

"Asshole."

"Douchebag."

"Bitch."

"Piece of shit."

"Glad to know you still have a colorful vocabulary," Chad said with a lopsided grin.

Chad and I had been friends for seven years. Ever since I had joined the gang I now call my home at the age of sixteen.

I had joined because I had no one. An orphanage and a round of foster parents didn't count as a family to me and this was the next best thing. It offered protection, an income, and even a stable family.

After living with multitudes of families for the majority of my life, I had decided that I was sick of the system. I was tired of being passed off to halfwits who passed as parents. So I left and was stuck on the streets for about a week until I was found. By Chad Lion. On a street corner begging for food, he took me in, let me take a shower, gave me fresh clothes, and made me chicken noodle soup.

He told me I wouldn't be safe out there which wasn't new news to me. I knew I was in danger just by attempting to walk in that neighborhood. The Lions owned half of the city and the Sharks the other. Either was a threatening entity if you weren't pledged to one of them for protection.

The Sharks were terrifying. They threatened to throw any stranded girl they found into the sex slave trade. They drugged and tortured anyone who was a threat. Their sales were booming and their egos boomed even louder.

But the Lions were viscous. If someone was out of place or on the wrong side of town, they were dead. No questions asked. It was every lone man against hundreds of Lions. They had numbers, protection, and a drug trade to match the Sharks.

Chad eventually asked his father if I could join them. The Lions. The murdering, drug dealing, torture driven, and backstabbing Lions. It had sounded like home sweet home to me.

After two years of petty drug deals of dime bags in alleyways, the gang began to notice something: I was a girl. For some reason it had taken them two years to realize that I had these things called boobs and an ass. And then they realized that seventy-five percent of their cliental was male. And that their cheating cliental was actually one-hundred percent male. Making me their only way for revenge. I was the one cleaning up after the lazy fucks in the gang. With my own signature flare: A red lipped kiss of death.