Too Far Gone (Urban)

43| From ___, With Love

The boss winced as Maria roughly dabbed at his wounds with a washcloth soaked with alcohol, muttering jabs under her breath. Gat watched from afar. He had his arms folded over his bandaged chest, an irritated frown etched on his face.

"Why you gotta be so fucking rough?" Gat questioned, walking over to the boss's bed. Maria stopped what she was doing, tossed the cloth aside, then glared at Gat.

"Because you guys don't fucking listen!" She shot back. "What made you think it was a good idea to run into battle when you're already feeling low? You could've gotten killed!"

"I almost die every day, sweetheart, it ain't nothing new," the boss shrugged, rising from his bed. He rolled his shoulders and swung his arms back and forth across his torso, stretching out his arms. "Besides, I think we made a good decision going out into battle as early as possible. The Brotherhood didn't stand a chance."

"Too bad Maero got away, though..." Gat murmured. The boss let out a sigh, his brows furrowing together.

"We'll worry about him later," the boss huffed,"I have other things to worry about now."

"You got that about right," a disembodied voice said from the hall. The voice was deep, intimidating. The sound of metal clashing against wood between steady footsteps alerted the three. Gat immediately reached for his pistol, which was tucked in his back pocket, but the boss stopped him, shaking his head. The footsteps drew near, and a figure entered the room.

"Benjamin Clayton," the boss greeted with a hard expression, staring into the eyes of the man who crippled the brighter future he could've had. His heavy fur coat hung off his tired shoulders slightly, exposing the plaid button up vest he wore underneath. The tail of the coat lightly dusted the back of his light grey slacks, which rested over a fresh pair of white custom made Timberland boots. His feathered fedora was tilted back slightly, showing the intense frown marking his face. The boss figured his eyes looked just as intense, but he couldn't confirm his assumption due to his blue aviators.

"Sonny," Ben greeted back with the same malicious tone the boss had given him earlier. He looked to Gat and Maria, nodding his head at them, "Could you excuse us, please? I'd like to have a word with your...boss."

Gat and Maria both shared a look before passing on the silent message to the boss. "Go," he said, "I'll catch you guys later."

Ben waited for the two to depart before he stepped further into the room. The boss noticed two other men were with him - goons, he assumed, but they didn't intimidate him as much as Ben did. Ben circled around the boss like a vulture. "Let's go for a ride, Sonny."

The boss tilted his head at Ben slightly, but before he could move himself, Ben's goons grabbed him by either side and carried him out of the HQ through the old missionary. Maria and Gat lingered in the corridor, and Gat sent the boss a worrisome glance as he was taken out of his sight. Outside, Ben's limo was wedged between two twin low riders, which all shared the same dark blue hue. The goons carried the boss to the limo, letting Ben enter the vehicle first before getting in as well.

The partition window rolled down, the driver peeking back at Ben as he awaited instruction.

"Take us to to the hospital, Mac," Ben demanded as he lit a Cuban cigar. The driver nodded and rolled up the partition. The boss stared at Ben as they began to drive off, itching to move, but couldn't since the two goons still held his arms down at either side.

"Can you tell them to let go now, please?" The boss asked, still glaring at Ben. Ben took the cigar out of his mouth, blowing out a stream of smoke into the small space. The ammonia-like aroma burned his nose and caused his eyes to water. His lungs, in response, seemed to tense up, leading to a cough. Seeming satisfied, Ben smiled.

"Only if you behave."

"I will."

Ben gestured to his goons and they let go of the boss. The boss stretched his arms out and rubbed the areas where they put the most pressure on him, feeling a slight soreness in his shoulders. "What do you want now?"

"I'd advise you to watch your tone, Sonny. Now, my issue with you is Chenelle - my daughter. I got a call this morning saying my child was admitted to the hospital with, and I quote, 'serious injuries'. I get one of my boys to find out the details as to why, and they tell me it's because of your shenanigans.

I don't care if you battle with the Brotherhood, because your life doesn't matter to me. You chose your path a long time ago. But her? I was okay with her doing your little side jobs, but a fucking gang war? Are you fucking serious? And now she's injured and it's like you don't give two shits."

"I do care, the fuck?" the boss shot back. One of the goons placed a hand over his chest and gently pushed him back into the seat. "She doesn't listen. She doesn't want to listen. I tell her not to do something and she does the opposite. What do you want me to do? You know I can't just fire her - this isn't some fucking office job! I want to keep her safe, trust me, but she doesn't make it easy for me."

"Well, you better find a way, Sonny. I swear on your mother, if anything happens to Chenelle that costs her her life, it's gonna cost you yours. Got it?"

The boss gulped, his heart dropping to the empty pits of his stomach. "I understand, sir..."

The limo rolled to a stop, and the goons exited the vehicle. The boss looked towards Ben again.

"Now, you're gonna go in there and tell her she's out. Fire her," Ben ordered. The boss stared at Ben as he stuck his cigar back between his thinning lips. He felt powerless, weak. He didn't want to let her go, the only real way out was through death; but her death would only lead to his early grave. He couldn't help but feel a bit of envy towards Chenelle. How come she got all the love? All the attention? The spotlight? How come she has higher priority than him? What happened eight years ago couldn't be blamed on him. He had nothing to do with it, yet here he was, paying for a debt he never fell into. He wished he could kill his old man right now, no hesitation, but he couldn't. It would only cause more pain and suffering. Maybe for him, too, the only way out was through his death.

"Yes, sir," he nodded, exiting the limousine and heading inside to break wind of bad news.

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