The Badboys' Good Lips

p r o l o g u e

The rain was hitting the pavement with an intensity that could only be described as deadly. The shadows of the black clouds were only able to be illuminated by the street lamps that scattered the edges of the roads.

No one was supposed to be out. Not at this time. Not in this rain. Yet, not even the rain could extinguish the fiery revenge that she felt; That she tricked him into feeling.

"Are you sure this is what I have to do?" He wiped the rain that dripped down his forehead, his clothes drenched and sticking to his body. He looked up, then, trying to see her in the rain even though she was standing right in front of him.

"Yes baby, don't worry. You're supposed to trust me, remember?" She smiled down at him though it looked more like a nervous grimace.

He shivered in the cold, turning his head to peek out of the alleyway. He didn't know what they were waiting for but he knew to be obedient. He didn't want to disappoint her.

There were a shuffle of steps somewhere in the distance but then again it could merely just be the rain. The gutters were overflowing with the heavy water and he tucked himself back into the confines of the alley, hugging himself for comfort and for warmth. He hated the rain, absolutely hated it.

"Does daddy know where we are? He might get worried?" He looked up again at his mother, squinting to see her properly through the downpour. He saw her huff yet when she turned to him she was smiling. Almost annoyed, yet not quite.

She knelt in front of her twelve year old son, brushing the wet strands of hair from his eyes before pressing something cold into his hands.

"Hush, my boy. I've told you once already that you have no reason to worry." She noticed him glance down at the object she had shoved into his hands and she continued to caress his face, a distraction of sorts. "You remember what your father taught you about how to use one, yes?"

He nodded at her. "Daddy taught me—" he cut himself off with a sneeze, and then a cough. Another reason he hated the rain—He knew that he would have a cold by the time he got back home. And he always hated that.

She nodded. "Good, good. We're going to do a little target range practice, okay?"

He sneezed again. "But I can't see anything, mum."

She shook her head in frustration, struggling to keep her voice void of irritation. "This is a test, darling, that's the whole point." She coughed into her sleeve before she paused in her movements, feeling the vibration of her phone in her back pocket. Standing to her full height, she fished the phone out and answered it, shielding it with her free hand as best she could from the water.

"Is she here?"

The voice on the other end was muffled yet she still could hear the words that she had been waiting for. "You have one minute. Coming from the east. Dark blue coat."

"Thanks, Dan."

"You don't have to do this, Marg. She doesn't even know—"

"Thank you, Dan," she cut him off, hanging up. She glanced to her son, who was curiously looking at the gun she had placed in his palms. Feeling her eyes on him, his eyes met hers again curiously, flicking his hair upwards and out of his eyes. He really wished he had an umbrella.

"Mum, I'm cold," he sneezed again and she turned her back on him with another roll of her eyes briefly before finally hearing it.

Approaching footsteps.

"Come sweetheart." Without waiting for his response she grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the alley and slightly down the street, west, before ducking behind a parked car.