Torn

Chapter 3

One of the more ghetto neighborhoods of New York was just outside of Lynz's apartment door. It had been two months after her father's outburst when she had to walk home from school because of a missing test. The sky darkened much earlier in the day, and the illegal substances were dealt while a young girl was out, forced to walk alone. Large alleys for dumpsters and trading led the way to her apartment, and the biggest alley was the last she would need to see.

Time seemed painfully slow even though she walked her fastest. Her curiosity got the best of her and she peeked into the immense alleyway, watching a spray of glistening red splat against one of the walls of a building as the pop of the gun echoed. She sucked in a shocked breath and widened her blue eyes. The street light hung perfectly above the murderers to expose the identities of three young men, a gang she assumed. The youngest of them had his fingers locked on the gun. The young man's white teeth shone in a wicked smile. Lynz frantically tried to move her feet and cover her horror to run home, but one of the older men behind the killer glanced in Lynz's direction. He was quick on his feet, taking three swift leaps, and grabbed her arms from behind her.

The other man clapped his filthy hand over her mouth. She tried to bite, scratch, kick, any method to try to get away; but when the leader strode over in a cocky manner, she lost hope of escaping. Her eyes automatically went to the fresh corpse laying against the blood-spattered brick wall.

"Check this one out; she's got some nice curves, and a pretty face to match." The man holding his hand over her mouth said smoothly. Up close, he had a skeleton-thin figure, with sunken cheeks and eyes. His features were heightened with the shadows cast by his protruding cheek and eyebrow bones.

"I get my turn with her first; she was a fiesty one to catch, and I bet I can tame her, if ya know what I mean..." the other said.

The leader, who now looked about eighteen years old, circled Lynz and looked at whatever wasn't covered by the other man. "She's a looker, no doubt. She's a good girl, 'pure', not wanting this...you're scared, aren't you?" He traced her jawline, his palm moving to her neck...shoulder...and further down, until he reached her hip, where he swiftly brought his hand back from her body. "You oughtta be. We're each going to have our turn with you, then get rid of you. You might as well know what our plans are for tonight."

Lynz screamed as the man released one of her arms and caught the bottom of her shirt, about to raise it up. The leader flicked his pocketknife out and sliced the man's hand, starting a frenzy of blood seeping out of the wound. "GET YOUR F***IN' HANDS OFF!!" Both men backed off, the one holding his bleeding hand and cursing. The boy pointed his blade at the men, warning "If you EVER try that again, I'll f***in' gut you inside out, you son of a b****!" He looked down at Lynz, who had fallen from the weakness in her knees. Her arms were numb as well.

"You-I swear I'm gonna make you suffer." He quickly twisted back to the men to dismiss them in his insensitive way. They turned and walked in the opposite direction from the boy and Lynz. He grasped Lynz's shirt, pulling her face up to his. "You better listen, or I'll just kill you here and now: you're too good to go to waste, so you're gonna be my own personal slave. You'll do what I want, when I want it. This is your only shot at living." His dark green eyes bore into hers. She knew he wanted an answer. Lynz could manage only a few exhales of air at the attempt of accepting his offer. She nodded frantically.

He threw her on the ground. The impact of her fragile back smashing on the cold concrete brought her to shout in agony. The boy with green eyes and dirty blonde hair laughed, announcing to the night, "All Law's doing! I dare any of you come at me, motherf***ers!"

Law was the opposite of what parents hoped their daughter's would come into contact with; he was any human's worst nightmare. He could kill without emotion, he had no obvious fears. He was involved with any illegal activity one could name: drugs, alcohol, prostitution, you name it. He had a link to all of it; New York was his domain in which he ruled over as a young adult at the age of 17.