Good At Being Bad (#1)

Prologue

                                                      ~PROLOGUE~

     THE COOL SPRING NIGHT WIND BLEW THROUGH his hair, making some of it fall off his head and onto his forehead. It tickled the smooth skin which slightly irritated him before he lifted his hand up and moved it away. He knew he needed another haircut, but the curls seemed to always attract the woman in this town. They were nothing special to the boy, no; they were just things to past the time with. Distractions are what he liked to call them. They took his mind off his not-so-good life and brought it to a world filled with promise.

He looked down at the ground to keep from meeting anyone's gaze and continued marching through the night. For it to be almost summer, it sure did feel chilly outside that night. The only thing protecting him from the cool weather was the flimsy jacket that he had owned for two years now. The jacket meant so much to him which is why he wore it. He also wore it because he knew that a fight could break out and he didn't want to risk his leather jacket getting ripped to shreds. It was his favorite.

Finally he came to a stop in front of a two story house with dirt and grime covering the white paint, boarded up windows, and ivy leaves growing up the sides. It was probably a cute little house at some point and time, but now it looked like a place druggies hung out and made their dealings. That was exactly true.

Sighing, he unlocked the gate and stepped onto the unkempt lawn before locking it back. For a quick second he looked up and around the neighborhood for any watching eyes before looking back down and making his way towards the porch steps. The three wooden steps squeaked and squealed every time he made the slightest movement up the stairs. The wooden floorboard weren't any better once he made it up the steps and took a few steps toward the door. The blue paint on the door was peeling and covered in grime which just disgusted the boy to no end.

He knocked on the door seven times, so the people inside knew it was safe to open up for him. He waited patiently for a few seconds before the door swung open revealing a chubby man with a scowl on his face and a red colored bandana wrapped around his head. His hand was reaching behind him for the weapon he knew was waiting to be used.

He cleared his throat and looked up at the man's scowling face. "Kid, I'm here to see Scar. He's expecting me."

The man eyes the boy for a moment to make sure he was telling the truth before stepping aside so he can walk in. He stands there for a moment before looking behind him at the outside, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he saw it, before stepping inside to all of the chaos. You had a group of guys sitting around a dirty glass table sharing a blunt, men sleeping in sleeping bags on the dusty wooden floor, and guys gets lap dances by two girls who looked like they were still in their sophomore year of high school.

He rolled his eyes before heading towards the staircase in the back of the room and stopping in front of the man guarding them. The man quickly moved out the way and the boy started up the stairs slowly going over what he was going to say in his head. He could get himself killed if he wasn't careful. Even worse he could have his whole family killed. 

Once he made it up the stairs he took a right down the familiar hallway to where he knew he'd find the man he was looking for. The hallway was long and lit by candles sitting on raggedy tables that had wood chipping off. For a man who was loaded he for sure didn't like buying new furniture.

Finally he came to a stop at the red door at the end of the hallway before he once again knocked seven times. He waited for five seconds and listened to the whispering voices on the other side of the door before he heard someone shout on the other side, "Come in!"

He placed his hand on the door knob and turned it before throwing the door open. The first thing he saw when he stepped into the room was a Hispanic woman wearing nothing but a red thong and matching three inch heels. She stood in between Scar's legs as he sat on his desk in the middle of the room. He looked around the woman at the boy and all but shoved the girl away from him. He waves his hand as if dismissing her and she just scoffed and exited the room, but not before shooting a wink at the boy. He just looked at her unaffected before turning to face Scar who too was looking at him.

Scar was a fifty year old man covered from head to toe in tattoos. Just by looking at him, you could tell he wasn’t one to mess with. He was a control freak and a very intimidating man. The boy at some point in his life used be very intimidated by him, but now he wasn’t. He could fight just as well as he could because he taught him and he could work a gun and knife just as well as he. And the fact that the boy was taller than Scar, 6’5 to be exact, made him feel like he was better than the older man.

Scar held his hands out while grinning widely at the boy. "Kid, what a wonderful surprise, I'm assuming you're here because you have what I want."

The boy bites his tongue to keep from correcting the older man. He had been calling him Kid ever since they met for the first time, which was five years ago. He was twenty-one now, so he had no idea why he still called him, Kid.

The boy shook his head and grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and dragged it back over to Scar's desk. He took a seat in the chair just as Scar took a seat in his rolling desk chair. The boy slouched in his seat and clasped his hands together in between his legs. "Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about," the boy says, which makes Scar sit up in his chair. "I don't have the money."

Scar is silent, but his eyes slowly moved around the room. The boy knew Scar like the back of his hand, and he knew that the older man was thinking. Did he know what exactly he was thinking? No, but he knew for a fact that he was coming up with a way to kill the boy for not giving him what he wanted. It had been four months since the boy promised to give him what he wanted and he still hadn't gone through with his promise.

Suddenly, the man banged his fist on the desk and stood up before he reached into his back pocket for his pistol at lightning speed. He pointed the gun right in between the boy's eyes, which makes him slowly, raise his hands up as if he were surrendering, and stand up. Scar had to point the gun up since the younger boy was taller than him by just a few inches. "Look, Scar I'm sorry for not having it like I said I would, but I––"

Before the boy can say anything else, the barrel of the gun comes flying towards his face making a clanking sound when the two connect. The boy groans out in pain and falls to floor, but catches the end of the desk before he hits the floor. The boy stares down at the floor breathing in and out slowly before he lifts his head and smirks up at Scar. "Is that all you've got big guy?"

The older man's grip on the gun tightens and his index finger presses down on the trigger just a little bit. "Kid, don't make me fucking shoot you're brains out. I'd hate to do it considering the fact that it would be like killing my own child, but hey, one less person I have to worry about."

The boy chuckles. "Look, give me some more time to get the money. I need like half a year or a full year. I don't think you realize how hard it is to get 75,000 dollars. You can't just pull it out your ass and call it a day, Scar. Life doesn't work like that."

Scar glares down at the boy for a moment before crossing his painted arms across his chest. For a moment, the boy thought he would say no and tell him to have the money in less than twenty-four hours, but he shocked him by saying, "Okay fine. Guards!"

Not even a second had passed by before three men burst into the room through a door in the corner of the room before surrounding both the younger boy and the older one. Their guns were pointed directly at the boy, which put just an ounce of fear in him.

"You three are my witnesses. I'm giving Kid here a full year tops to get my money. If he fails to have my money by the time the clock strikes twelve on June fifth of next year, we're hunting him down," Scar says to the three men, who all nod their heads or grin evilly. Scar then turns to the young boy. "June fifth, no later than twelve, now get your ass out my office and my house."

Before the boy can even start to lift himself up, the three men rush toward him and begin lifting him roughly off his knees. The boy pushes them away from him and smirks at each and every one of them. He smiles smugly and says, "I can find my way out." 

Turning around, he begins to walk out the room, hoping to never to see that room again.

Well, at least not for another year...