Free Falling

Shaundi kept her pistol aimed at Josh Birk's head. She hoped he'd give her the excuse to shoot him; he would be better off dead. She crossed her legs; her purple polyester pants made a noise protesting the movement against the black suede couch she sat on. It gave Josh an excuse to look at the woman yet again. She was exotic, like a leopard. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, allowing a stray strand to tease the side of her face. She was slender with tanned skin, like a model. She looked Italian or Spanish. Josh had a thing for models. He was also a bit masochistic.

A few feet away from them sat Pierce and Oleg, who was playing chess. Pierce looked like a typical black posh gangster, and Oleg looked like a typical huge bodyguard on steroids. Pierce slid a small chess piece across the board and looked at Oleg, who didn't take his eyes off the board.

"Put the gun down." Josh broke the silence. "I won't run."

Shaundi scoffed a bit, her gun hand not moving an inch off of its target. "Yeah, I'm good."

Josh grinned wide, completely misunderstanding her. "I felt that the moment we met. That connection."

Shaundi stilled. "What?" That one word dripped disbelief and disgust.

The man leaned towards her, his coffee-colored strands of hair catching the sun. He gave her his best smoldering look, willing her to fall for his charm. "Forbidden love."

"Oh my God, can I just shoot this guy?" Shaundi looked at Pierce and Oleg.

"Play nice, now." All four heads turned towards the stairway to see their leader descending the stairs. Jamien's eyes gave Shaundi a clear warning, but his smile was playful. "You got the stuff, Pierce?"

Oleg and Pierce both reached down for a dark green duffel bag that sat at their feet, but Oleg got to it first. "Allow me, friend." He dropped the bag on the chess board, scattering pieces everywhere.

"You did that on purpose." Pierce frowned. Oleg gave an innocent shrug.

"Alright, let's go STAG hunting." Jamien picked up the bag.

Downstairs, there were two Saints cars parked at the curb, both painted harlequin purple, one a two-door Sovereign and the other a four-door Infuego. "Think you can pick a fight with STAG by yourself?"

Jamien tossed a surprised look to Pierce, who was moving towards the sports car. "Oh, you're not coming?" He approached his Infuego.

Pierce shook his head. "Going to pick up a surprise for STAG. You know how to use a Molotov?"

Jamien cut his eyes at his new second-in-command. "Yes, Pierce." He said dryly, "I know how to throw a fucking bottle." He got in the car and slammed the door hard enough to shake the car.

"Jesus, I was just askin'." Pierce watched the car pull away.

Jamien never had much patience to be a responsible driver, and as he drove to the STAG PR Center, he had just enough patience not to hit anyone. Driving on the correct side of the street was another matter. As he expected, the building was surrounded by STAG officers either standing around with their guns out and ready or sitting in their mini-tanks, N-Forcers, waiting to shoot. And it had started out as a pretty day.

Jamien noted the STAG recruit advertisement stretched across the building, split into two banners. He smiled. "Oh, these banners have to go on principal. A few Molotovs should do it." As soon as the first Molotov left his hand, bullets started flying. Jamien heard the sound of metal hitting metal, but paid little attention to it. His first throw missed the banner and instead broke over a STAG officer's head, who went up in flames. "Shit." He sighed, ran closer, and tried again. His second attempt torched one-half of the banner. A bullet connected with his shoulder and he staggered but caught himself. As the senior-most member of the Saints, he'd built up a phenomenal tolerance for pain. It sucks to be them. Another flaming bottle connected with the second half of the banner and Jamien'. He smiled, proud of himself. Now all he had to do was go back to the penthouse. He took out his phone and hit one button, speed dialing Oleg, the big Russian brute. "Oleg, they're on the way. We ready?"

"Yes, be careful not to set off the bombs when you get close. I'll be monitoring STAG's approach from our security room." The line disconnected. Jamien made a mental note to hang up on the next person he called or who called him. Rude bastards.

He turned around to find his getaway car surrounded by his armor-clad enemies. "Ah. Fuck." Instinct drove him to reach into his jacket and throw a hand grenade at them. Good news? That promptly killed all of those troublesome STAGs. Bad news? That also killed his shiny gang car. "FUCK!" Once again, Jamien would have to make his escape on foot. He contemplated stealing an N-Forcer, but there were too many STAG officers to take out to successfully get into one. "Oh, come the fuck on! Gimme a break here!" The wind picked up, causing him to shield his eyes from the dirt it carried, bringing his attention to the street behind the flaming wreckage that had been a perfectly good car. "Oh, yeah..." He immediately made a run for it. He darted past and around the remaining (and shooting) STAGs to the busy intersection. He narrowly missed being run over by an elderly lady driving a Churchill, who seemed to be more interested in what station she would listen to than pedestrians she could kill. The second car showed more promise. It was going in the opposite direction that he needed to go, but it was newer and faster all-black Neuron. "Eh, it'll do, I guess." Jamien shrugged and dashed across the street, coming to a stop in the path of the car.

The driver slammed on her brakes and began honking angrily. He ran to the driver side, broke the window with his elbow, opened the door and yanked the woman out. "Oh, how sweet. You kept it running for me." The young woman sitting in the passenger seat started screaming, but Jamien ignored her. "Thanks!" He jumped over her and into the car, which had started rolling down the street. He gave the car a little gas, to move the car safely away from the woman, then floored it, tires screeching.

Chapter Index

Cyrus returned the stare of the man standing in front of him, lips pressed into a thin line of a defeated scowl. He took his time sitting down in the chair positioned at the desk and didn't take his eyes off of his unexpected guest. Cyrus didn't want the man to think he had bested him in an argument about morals and priorities. However, it did look like the man wouldn't hesitate to choke the shit out of him if need be. Self-preservation.

"Don't you think you've wasted enough time already? Hurry up and call her." The man's fists were balled up tightly at his sides, shaking slightly.

Cyrus punched in the phone number, noting the time as it rang.

"This had better be important. It's almost midnight." Monica Hughes sounded as if she had been asleep for a while.

"I wouldn't bother you if it weren't, ma'am," Cyrus assured her, voice empty of emotion. The man in front of him folded his arms impatiently. It occurred to Cyrus then that maybe the man hadn't been in this sort of situation before. Pampered political idiots.

"Then what's the problem?"

The man leaned over. "Your precious military circus blew up a building with my daughter in it!"

"For the last time, she wasn't in the building." Cyrus frowned.

There was silence before Monica responded. "Who is that?"

"Then where was she, hm? Traffic cameras show the car her mother rented had N-Forcers, your officers, in pursuit. That same car ended up at the building you gave your men orders to go to. Those same cameras show her being dragged inside by a man. Nearly thirty minutes later, you blow up the top of the building!"

"Mayor Wesley Fuller...is that you?" Cyrus suppressed a groan at the recognition in Monica's voice.

"Yes, Monica." He bit his lip.

"You said your daughter. Denitra?"

"Yes, Denitra... If she survived the attack." Wesley glared at Cyrus, who returned it.

"She isn't dead." Cyrus fought to keep himself from getting angrier.

"Why, if you had an opportunity to rescue her, didn't you?"

"As I told you when you barged in here with your ridiculous accusations, I am not here in Steelport to save one life, but thousands. At the time, my primary objective was to fulfill the wishes of my superior, Senator Hughes. I was to retrieve Josh Birk, and that's it." Cyrus leaned back in his chair, folding his hands neatly in his lap.

"THEN WHY DID YOU BLOW UP THE PENTHOUSE?"

Cyrus shrugged. "It was necessary to slow the enemy down. Leaving their stronghold intact would not have helped us in any way. It cut down on their numbers and forced them to scatter. They're disorganized right now."

"AND WHAT ABOUT MY DAUGHTER?"

"I saw her jump off the building with the Leader of the Saints." Cyrus stood and turned away from the man, looking out at the quiet streets of downtown Steelport below.

"The Saints?"

Cyrus heard the shock in the man's voice and turned around. "You haven't noticed how much quieter it is in Stilwater? They've moved here now, multiplying like cockroaches. I fully intend to exterminate every single one of them."

"My sincerest apologies, Wesley." Monica broke in.

"I-I don't want apologies, Monica. I want Denitra back, safely." He leaned towards the phone and his voice dropped to a whisper, "Help me bring my baby home, alive."

Another moment of silence hung in the air, as they all realized just how difficult that would be. "I'll call in some favors with the Mayor of Steelport and the Chief of Police. The three of us will get the police force there to start searching for her. But it'll have to wait until morning when I know we'll all be in our offices and have access to the phone numbers and people we'll need."

Wesley sighed. "It's only one night. I can only hope she's at least provided a decent cot to sleep on and food to eat to tie her over until tomorrow."

"You sound like you need some sleep yourself. Go home and rest. In the morning you can head down to the precinct. I'll call in a favor and have the police assist you in recovering Denitra."Monica assured him.

He sighed again. "Thank you, Monica. Though I hate to think of what she'll go through until then, I know it's the best you can do on such short notice."

"Thank you for understanding. With both STAG and the police on their tail, the Saints won't even be able to piss in peace."

Chapter Index

"Nope. Since Shaundi's hell-bent on me letting you go, I'm gonna keep you, just to show her who's the boss around here. Hungry?"

'And we're thrown into another pissing contest...' Pierce held back a groan of disappointment. He had hoped that their fearless leader would see reason and just let the girl go. But, of course, Shaundi had to mouth off. If Pierce had learned anything about the Boss since he'd met him back in Stilwater, it was that he couldn't stand being pushed around and told what to do. Pierce had never asked the Boss outright what caused him to be like that, but he figured that he'd been bullied when he was younger or something.

The girl only stared at Boss after her jaw dropped open in disbelief. "T-that is so childish!"

'Agreed.' Pierce thought as he shook his head. Shaundi may not have wanted Denitra around just because she was another female, but Pierce just didn't trust her. People would do anything to get near the Saints; groupies and con artists were a constant threat. Boss was too preoccupied with more important things than to stop and consider the fact that some people were bold enough to steal money from the Saints. It was Pierce's own suggestion that they stop stashing their earnings in the safes of their cribs and safe houses. With all the partying that they liked to do, it was just too easy and tempting for someone to break into the safes and steal some cash.

"There's a difference between making a suggestion and giving an order. I know she's been stressed out lately, but she needs to remember that she's only allowed to make a suggestion, not order me around."

Shaundi turned around on the couch. "So you're gonna keep this chick just to piss me off?"

"Does this really surprise you?" Boss asked, a bit surprised himself.

"Yes!" Shaundi stood.

Boss shrugged. "Well, deal with it."

Shaundi started to open her mouth but Pierce made a cutting motion with his hand at his throat, a signal for her to just shut up. He silently hoped she'd understand that she was really just making it worse. Fortunately, she did and plopped back down on the couch.

"You can't do that!" Denitra shouted.

"And just why not?" Boss asked in a child's voice, clearly taunting her.

Pierce was aware that if the girl planned everything out to make sure she was in whatever car Boss carjacked, then she was damned good. Could she have been that good? Not likely, but it didn't mean that she couldn't take advantage of her situation. He'd have to make sure her mind wasn't wandering in that direction.

"-have the right to just imprison people on a whim!" Pierce clued back into the conversation.

"If you didn't notice, I didn't have to keep you in the car. I could have just shoved your ass out with your mom and let you both get run over."

"Then why didn't you? Since when did you ever care about anyone other than yourself?"

"Karma. I try, from time to time, to put some good into the world. It increases my chances of being reincarnated as at least a sea turtle in the next life. Could you imagine being reborn as a tree or flower?" He made a face as if he was in pain before turning away from her to hide his face.

Even Pierce struggled not to laugh at her outraged expression. "YOU THINK THIS SHIT IS FUNNY?"

"You have to admit my chances of being a sea turtle are pretty slim."

"You are going to let me go." Denitra spoke evenly, fists shaking with rage at her sides. Maybe it was the tone in her voice or her body language, but the playful demeanor the Boss had slipped away as his eyes became void of emotion, leaving a cold, deadly expression on his face. Pierce had seen the look before, often right before he made a rash decision in which someone ended up dead.

"What I am going to do, is keep you here for as long as I want." His tone matched hers, but there was a lot more implied.

"No, you are not." She retorted, putting her hands on her hips.

It was hard to tell if Boss was even breathing, he stood still. Pierce realized that it was possible the kitchen island was the only thing keeping the Boss from choking the girl. An idea popped into Pierce's head. "What about a compromise?"

Both of their heads snapped to give him unfriendly looks. "What?"

Pierce sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "A compromise. Something you two can agree on."

"Like what?" Boss asked, intrigued.

Pierce looked at him then at the girl. "When does school start?"

She looked genuinely surprised he'd been paying attention. Pierce smirked. As second-in-command, it was his duty to pay attention to every little detail. She looked down at the floor, "Next Monday."

"Alright, seven days, starting from the minute he jumped in your car. Just stay seven days, and after that you can go." Pierce looked to Boss, hoping like hell the man would, for once, just agree and move on. If he did, then Pierce could talk to the girl and try talking Kinzie into doing a thorough background check on her. If she wasn't as innocent as she seemed, then he'd get rid of her himself, if she wasn't a valuable person to have. But he had to admit, she was one hell of an actress if she really did want to be there.

The Boss thought for a minute then his eyes landed on his kidnap victim. "What do you say?"

Denitra shook her head. "No. I don't want to spend another minute in the Saints' company, much less another six days!"

Pierce took a step towards her and lowered his voice. "If not, there's no telling when he'll calm down enough to get tired of terrorizing you. You're only making it worse."

She seemed to realize just how right Pierce might be. He watched her inner conflict show in her expressions as she thought it out. More than likely she'd try to make a run for it if she ever got the chance, which could only piss the Boss off. Or humor him. Or both. It had begun to seem like she wouldn't go for it when her shoulders suddenly slumped in defeat, and her whole attitude changed. "Okay." She whispered.

She sounded heartbroken. She looked lost. She was one hell of an actress if she was faking it.

The Boss's phone went off and he answered it, putting it on speaker since Shaundi and Pierce were there. "Kinzie, you find anything out about the Deckers?"

"I know a lot about the Deckers." She answered curtly.

"Well, I know that but anything we can use?"

"Tons, but you shouldn't worry about that now."

"Okay, then what should I-"

"Is Shaundi with you?" She cut him off. Upon hearing her name, Shaundi got up and made her way over to the kitchen island.

"Right here, what's going on?" Shaundi picked up the phone.

"Both of you meet me at Smiling Jack's diner, there's something you need to see."

Pierce smacked his lips. "What about me?"

"Pierce, you can-"

"Babysit." Boss nodded his head in Denitra's direction. "Me and Shaundi should be enough. If not, I'll call." He smiled as he headed towards the elevators, taking his phone from Shaundi and hanging it up. He seemed awfully happy to just hang up on Kinzie.

Denitra didn't move until the elevator closed, moving over to one of the armchairs near the windows and sitting down. Pierce started to open his mouth when he stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't ate since noon. He rubbed his hand down over his face. "Um, I'm gonna order something to eat. You want anything?"

She slowly brought her eyes up to his face. "Whatever you get is fine with me."

He thought about it then quickly dialed a phone number. "I hope Chinese takeout is okay." She didn't respond.

"May China. How can I help you?" An elderly woman's voice filled his ear.

"I want a place an order for delivery. Shrimp fried rice and beef pepper steak."

"Anything else?"

"Um, three vegetable egg rolls and extra fortune cookies." He nodded confidently. When she prompted him for the address, Pierce simply told her the name of the building. "Safeword." She let him know that it would take fifteen minutes and hung up on him. If she had told him anything but fifteen minutes, Pierce would've canceled the order; the place was literally on the end of the street. He looked over at Denitra and felt bad for her. She looked miserable despite her rainbow-colored sundress and yellow flip-flops. A modern hippie, maybe?

He moved over to the bar and pulled out two wine glasses and a bottle of unopened wine. "Do you drink? You look like you need something to cheer you up."

She glanced at him before looking out of the window again. "Yeah, I drink."

"Great!" He sat down in front of her, placing the glasses on the table between them then filling them with the cranberry colored liquid. "So, do you live here in Steelport?"

She shook her head and picked up her glass, tentatively taking a sip. "Stilwater."

He nodded and regarded her, noting her posture and facial expression. She was telling the truth. "So then, what are you doing here in Steelport?"

"Like I said earlier, college. Stilwater University will be closing its doors soon, permanently." She looked at him and gave him an unfriendly glare. "But you know that already, don't you?"

Pierce didn't respond, choosing to sip from his glass as he thought. "S.U. was going to go down whether gangs got involved with it or not. In fact, it was because of gangs that it stayed opened as long as it did. Students were only attending to get better access to the Loa Dust. The school itself was in deep financial shit."

She looked away from him. He continued to watch her, noting that even though she wasn't saying a word, she was getting angrier with each sip of wine. She'd drained her glass before she spoke again. "I'm here for college because the one back home won't be open much longer."

"At least you didn't give up. What are you going to college for?"

"I want a degree in paramedic emergency."

Pierce had to admit he was impressed. "Why that field?"

The hostility gave way to regret. "I want to help people."

"That's the only reason?" Pierce doubted her.

She refilled her glass to the brim and took another swig. "No." He waved his hand, prompting her to go on. She sighed and downed her glass. She shuddered then sighed deeply. "Layla. I'm doing it for Layla."

He watched her eyes water but she kept a straight face. "Is Layla your sister...?"

"She was my best friend. My only friend."

"Was?"

A tear fell quickly down her cheek and she wiped it away. This time, Pierce refilled her glass. She thanked him. "She was there during the shootout at the university. She didn't get to finish her shift at the gift shop."

Although Pierce was aware that the Saints' actions often resulted in civilian casualties, it wasn't often that he was later confronted with their loved ones. He was left speechless. She didn't notice his sudden silence, as she was lost in her memories. Thankfully, the intercom next to the elevator buzzed. He jogged over to it and pressed the red button. "What's up?"

"You order takeout? It's here."

"Bring it up."

He quickly grabbed plates and forks from the cabinets and set them at the kitchen island. The elevator doors opened and a Saint runt stepped out, holding the white plastic sack. "Here you go, man."

"Thanks. Did you tip the delivery guy?" Pierce asked fishing for his wallet out of his pocket.

"Just two bucks."

"Thanks, Miguel." Pierce handed him a twenty dollar bill and took the bag. Pierce was sure that Miguel didn't expect to be paid back for the food, much less to be called by his name.

"N-no problem, man. Anytime." The kid's grin would have put the Kool-Aid man to shame. Without having to be told, he dismissed himself and hopped back onto the elevator. 'A little praise does go a long way...'

He put the food on the island next to the plates and turned towards his charge. "So, do you mind moving over here? I know you have to be hungry." He gestured towards the food, then began waving his hand towards her in hopes the smell would do the rest of the talking. "It's saying, 'eat meeee'."

She shook her head and a small smile graced her lips. "If it's saying anything, then it's probably best we don't eat it." She got up, picked up the glasses and bottle, and slowly joined him at the kitchen island. "I'm supposed to hate you."

Pierce shrugged. "Then hate me after you've eaten and drank your fill. Right now, we're just two people enjoying a meal. It won't do you any good to starve yourself."

She nodded. "Under different circumstances, I'd see you as a friend." Then, with a whisper, she added, "You remind me of Layla, just a little bit."

Pierce nodded his head, understanding her. "If the situation were different, I'd take you downtown to this hot ass club, buy you all the drinks you could stand, then try to convince you that fuck buddies are the best buddies you could ever have."

They both fell out laughing. She smacked his arm then reached for the wine. "That's messed up!" She took a sip before reaching for the food. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm just joking. Sort of." He filled his plate with food. "Unless you'd like that."

She shook her head. "Unless you can go back in time and undo the past, hell no."

He looked at the bottle of wine, seeing that the bottle only held a third of its contents now. "Hm, we've had a lot to drink."

"I forgot to ask, but what's the proof on this?"

"Well, it's Pedra Altra..." Pierce looked at the label closely. "Twenty percent."

"That's it?" She looked at the bottle too, as if she could see through the dark glass. "It doesn't feel like just twenty."

"I'm just starting to feel a buzz but you've had at least twice as much as I've had. Plus, wine sneaks up on you."

She nodded and ate a bit more off of her plate. "So, tell me, what the hell is wrong with your boss. Does he always act this childish?"

Pierce laughed. "No, it's just Shaundi. Shaundi used to be really laid back and he was always on her ass about it. Once we started getting more 'positive' attention, he chewed her out and told her if she wanted to stay with the Saints, she'd get her shit together. I don't know what went through her head, but the next day she showed up looking like a damned model. It was fucking insane. Like, I really don't know how to explain it. But, as time passed, with the new look came a new attitude. I miss the old Shaundi. She was drugged up all the time, but she had a sense of humor and knew how to party. Shaundi still does that, but it's like she forgot that she's not the boss, he is. And he hates being told what to do. So they fight all the time, but she's irreplaceable. Gat's death made it worse."

"So, maybe if they kiss and made up, he'd let me go?" She looked hopeful.

Pierce shrugged and drank the rest of the wine in his glass. "Maybe, maybe not."

"This is so stupid. I told my mom not to take that street. She made a wrong turn and I told her to just do a U-turn. Nooo. She wanted to just make three left turns and we'd be back where we needed to turn. I asked him to just let me out of the car. Nooo. He was just certain I'd get run over by a tank-"

"You probably would have."

"So? That's my problem. Not his. He's so damned controlling."

"He can't help it."

"I don't want to hear that shit. I want to leave."

Pierce sighed. "Maybe if you're on your best behavior, you'll get parole."

"Stupid, blue-eyed son of a bitch."

"Blue-eyed? What you got against his eyes?"

"Nothing! I just...noted that they were blue." She looked away bashfully.

A smile graced his lips. "Really?" He leaned closer to her. "So, do you like his blue eyes?"

She cut her eyes at him. "Shut up."

He grinned even wider. "So what about his hair? Do you find that sexy?"

"I'll knock you off of that stool if you don't shut the hell up."

Pierce laughed. "Admit you find him attractive and I'll leave it alone."

She was quiet for a minute, contemplating. It didn't matter what she would say; Pierce knew from her hesitance alone what was true or not. "He's okay. I mean, he isn't ugly."

"So what if he was never a Saint? What would you think of him then?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know. Maybe I could-"

The elevator let out a ding and the doors opened, effectively ending that conversation.

Chapter Index

Somewhere, his phone was going off. Ugh. Jamien pulled a pillow off of his head and groaned when the light hit his face. It was morning. He reached across the bed, remembering that someone was supposed to be there, and found it cold and empty. "Fuck." At the same time, his phone stopped ringing. He sighed and sat up, running a hand through his hair to finger comb it. He'd underestimated how tired he'd been. He could hear one of the TVs downstairs tuned to some random channel, and also the clinking of dishes. His phone began vibrating and ringing again, slowly moving towards the edge of the end table. He snatched it up, pressed the answer button, and pressed the cool plastic to his ear. "What?"

"I've been trying to reach you all morning! Where the hell have you been?" Jamien never pegged Kinzie to be a morning person anyway.

"It's called sleeping. Perhaps you haven't heard of it yet?" Jamien fell back onto the bed. "What's wrong, Kinzie?"

"Normally, I don't spend too much time listening in the Steelport police radio conversations, but I figured after yesterday I might be able to pick up something about STAG."

"Did you?"

"Yes," She hesitated before continuing, "but it wasn't what I thought it would be about. STAG's commander has issued an Amber Alert for a Denitra Fuller. He believes she's being held against her will by the Saints. The police have orders from the Chief to stop any car with Saints colors then search and question all members of the gang."

"Wow. All of that just for one girl?"

"She's important to somebody. I was able to hack into their system and pull a picture of her." Jamien's phone gave a quiet ding, an alert to a new picture message. He didn't bother to look at it. "Right now, I'm using the FBI's database to pull background information, to see who she is and what she's involved in. One question, do we have her?"

Jamien sighed. "Yes. She's here with me now."

"Why is she with you? Is she a friend of yours?"

"Not exactly. It's a long story, Kinzie, but she's gonna be with us for a bit longer."

"How much longer?"

"A week at the most."

"Well, if that's the case, then I have to keep an eye on the police and STAG as well as the Syndicate gangs."

"Unless you have nothing else to do, don't bother. We all will have to wear different clothes and drive different cars for a while. It isn't a big deal. If nothing else, it gives us an advantage over our enemies by suddenly adopting a new look. You stay focused on the Deckers."

"If you're sure..."

"I am. Trust me. This makes things more interesting."

"Well, make it more interesting. Take Denitra somewhere and give her a makeover, so she's not recognizable by anyone looking for her."

"Good idea. Thanks, Kinzie." He hung up without warning and got out of the bed, going over to the railing to look down into the kitchen. "Good morning, sunshine."

Denitra looked up at him from her bowl of cereal and rolled her eyes.

Jamien laughed and went to the bathroom, taking time to bathe, change his clothes, comb his hair, and shave. When he came downstairs, Denitra was still at the kitchen island, watching some silly game show. "How did you sleep last night? I thought you'd sleep a little longer. It's only," he looked at his watch, "10:15."

She didn't answer, instead filling her mouth with another spoonful of cinnamon sugar squares. Jamien shrugged it off and got a bowl of cereal for himself, taking the time to think about his moves and options. "So, I realize that if you're gonna be here for a week, you'll need clothes to wear."

"And I had clothes in the trunk of the car we were in." She snapped, getting up to wash her dishes.

Jamien pursed his lips and nodded. "Right. Sorry about that. Well, I'll take you shopping once you're ready."

"Let me go, and you won't have to bother."

"What about our compromise?"

"I have to have some sort of hope you'll change your mind and just let me walk out of here."

Jamien shook his head. "Not happening. You're fun to have around when Shaundi's near, like a rattle to a cat."

She frowned. "And when she's not around?"

Jamien nodded, seeing her point. "Eh, we'll figure out something."

Once he finished his bowl, he waited at the elevator for her. "Come on, Dee! Let's go!"

She came down the stairs reluctantly. "You don't get to call me that."

"Why not?" He pressed the button to call the elevator.

"Only my friends can call me Dee, and you," she pointed to him, "are nowhere close to being a friend of mine."

He put a hand over his heart, pretending to be severely wounded. "My lady, you wound me!"

"Asshole." She turned away from him and stepped into the elevator. Jamien smiled at her the entire ride down, and she glared at him in return.

"Morning Boss." Various lower-level Saints members occupied the main entertainment room of Safeword, men and women alike, receiving dances from the strippers of their choice or being lead to a private room for much, much more.

"Ew." Denitra's face scrunched up in disgust. Jamien chuckled, remembering their chat about STDs and couches. He was willing to bet she imagined all the cooties all over the place. "This is hell."

"If this is what hell is like, sign me up now." Jamien put a hand to the small of her back to coax her forward.

"Don't touch me!" She hissed and moved forward a little bit.

"Then move it." He whispered to her, scanning the room for one person.

"Jamien!"

He stilled and waited until her hands went around his waist, pulling him against her body. He knew those squishy tits anywhere. "Candi, how are you?"

She peeked around his arm, looking up at him with hazel eyes. "Lonely. I heard you came in last night, but you never called me to join you. What's up with that?"

Denitra crossed her arms over her chest upon hearing the girl's name then turned away.

Jamien turned around to face her. "I was tired and needed some sleep." He shrugged.

Candi's gaze moved from him to the girl behind him, and she pouted, pushing a blonde strand of weave out of her face. "New chick? You could have still invited me up, J. I don't mind sharing and caring with your new play toys."

Jamien rubbed his thumb on her apricot tinted cheek. "She's not a play toy. She's a guest of mine who'll be around for a few more days so I really won't be able to spend time with you."

"Oh." Candi frowned. "Okay, then. Well, you know I'll always be down here if you change your mind."

Jamien smiled brightly, satisfied when Candi's frown changed to a dazed smile. "Thanks for understanding." He turned away from her to find Denitra swatting at a stripper who was trying to get the girl to dance with her.

"Would you just get the hell away from me?" She hissed, backing up into Jamien. He moved to the side of her and grabbed her by her arm, leading her to the front of the building.

"Hey, Boss?"

He turned around to see one of the Saints members. "What?"

"I caught her coming out of the elevator earlier this morning. Pierce said to let you know."

Jamien gave her a questioning look, but Denitra just shrugged. "Thank you. I'll have a little talk with her. Can you do me a favor? Run down to the garage and bring up that all black Hammerhead to the front?"

"Yes, sir."

"Also, tell every member here that if they go out, no colors. We're still laying low from yesterday."

"Got it."

As the runt dashed off, he turned back to Denitra. "So that's why you have an attitude."

"I don't have an attitude."

He just stared at her. "You know what you need? A makeover."

"What?"

"You heard me. You need to be pampered by strangers and come out looking like one."

"Like what?"

"A stranger."

"You've lost your fucking mind." She tried to yank her arm away from him, but he had a vice grip on her. "Let me go!"

"I didn't lose my mind." He looked back at her as he pushed the door open, stepping out into the bright morning sun. "It ran away."

Jamien opened the passenger door and gestured for her to get in. At first, she refused, but he threatened to toss her inside, so she changed her mind. He slid into the driver side, making the leather seat squeal. The car roared to life, and Jamien gave it a little gas, trying to obey the street signs and not commit vehicular manslaughter to avoid getting the attention of Steelport's finest. While he drove, he took note of the increased number of policemen patrolling the streets and freeway. 'They mean business when it comes to finding this girl. Just who in the hell is she?' Within thirty minutes, they were in front of Image As Designed in Loren Square.

"Why are we here?" Denitra tore her gaze from the building to look at Jamien. He only smiled and unbuckled their seat belts.

"I thought you'd like to get your nails done or something."

She frowned, leaning away from him a little. "No thanks. I don't really like using random salons."

He got out of the car and moved to her door, opening it for her. "Just this once, go in and have fun." He guided her away from the car and shut the door, then put his hand at the small of her back then guided her up the steps into the building.

"Welcome to Image As Designed, are you Bruce Wayne?" The clerk at the desk gave them a megawatt smile. Jamien rolled his eyes but nodded. Kinzie must have made them an appointment; she had a habit of setting his appointments there with random aliases. "Glad you could make it in sir!"

The leggy green-eyed blond hopped out of her chair and came around to the lobby to greet them, shaking Jamien's hand. "It said that you were bringing a friend in. Is this the young lady?"

"Yes, this is Dee."

"Don't-"

"Great! Nice to meet you, Dee. My name is Helena, and I'll be in charge of your makeover today!"

"Why are you so exci-"

"Now," Helena turned to Jamien, still holding his hand. "Did you have anything particular in mind? Like hairstyle, skin color, weight or height-"

"Nothing drastic. I still want to be able to look at her face and know it's her. Just change her hair, add makeup, and pamper her hands and feet. You know, basic girly stuff." He waved them off, taking a seat and grabbing a magazine. Jamien had thumbed through four other magazines before the girls reappeared.

"What do you think about her now?" Helena gestured to the space beside her. She frowned and reached through the door, yanking Denitra out into the lobby. Her brown hair was now as black as his except with a glossy sheen in a Cleopatra cut, complete with purple bangs. He could tell she was wearing makeup, but it wasn't heavy except for the eyeliner and mascara. Not an extreme makeover, but different from whatever pictures of her the police had.

"It works for me."

"I'm glad you like it, sir. Would you like anything done for yourself then?"

"No thank you. You've done enough." Jamien turned towards the door, not bothering to see if Denitra would follow.

"Well, thank you for choosing Image As Designed!" Helen shouted as the door shut behind them.

"How do you feel?" He asked going around to his side of the car and getting in.

She didn't answer at first, but he could tell by her body language that it wasn't a bad thing. "I don't know." She mumbled, buckling her seat belt.

"What made you choose purple?" He nodded his head towards her own. Curiosity killed the cat.

She reached up and gently fingered her hair. "It's my favorite color."

"Really? And it doesn't bother you that it's the Saints' color?"

"Of course it does. But I know why you wanted me to go in there. I'm not stupid. I heard you on the phone this morning. I heard you when you told that guy to have everyone else start dressing differently, not to wear the Saints' color. I figured if you suddenly decreased the number of marked gang bangers, the police will catch on. They'll have to look for little clues. Most women will change their clothes, but not their hair." She smiled, proud of herself. "The police will realize that just like I did and will start going after your girls. It may be subtle, but they'll notice the purple in my hair. All I need is their attention. The rest will take care of itself."

Jamien sat there, impressed by her wit. "No, really, is this what college does to people? Why aren't more people going?"

She scoffed and folded her arms angrily, turning away from him to look out the window. He started the car and quickly pulled away from the curb, heading out into traffic. He had to admit that she had a point. And with that point, she'd given him an idea. With that hairstyle, one could mistake her for a low-level Saint. With the right outfit, she could both blend in and stand out. He gunned it, heading back towards Rosen Oaks for his favorite clothing store.

"What in the hell are we doing here?" Denitra's voice held caution and fear.

"We're going shopping for your clothes." Jamien smiled innocently. She immediately narrowed her eyes and sneered at him. "What? What's wrong with this store?"

"Leather & Lace?" She looked at the shop. "It's a sex clothes store!"

"Honestly, I wasn't aware that sex required clothes."

"Okay, a foreplay clothes store."

"Hm... Okay, I'll give you that." He opened his door and got out quickly, all but dragging her inside. "But it has regular clothes too."

She gave him a skeptical look then pointed at a mannequin dressed in a Pleasure and Pain bondage suit. "Regular?"

Jamien looked at it, shrugged, and said, "Well, not everything here looks like that." He pointed to a mannequin closer to the front doors. "See?"

Denitra looked at it with interest, then shook her head and moved towards the door. "I'm not buying anything from here."

"Why not?" Jamien caught her wrist and held onto it, leading her through the store.

"I don't like showing off too much skin."

"Okay, what about this?" He pointed to a rack with Naughty Time bustiers and matching skirts. "I think you'd look very nice in this."

She tried to yank away from him. "I bet you would. I'm not putting that shit on."

"Okay, if you don't pick something, I will. And you will wear it, one way or another. So it's either this outfit or the leather catsuit over there." He paused. "In fact, I insist you pick that one. It doesn't show any skin, but it grips every curve just right."

She slapped his arm and yanked away hard, bruising her wrist a bit. She stalked over to a rack and picked out a black tube top with a matching purple and black jacket and black bondage pants with a studded black belt. "Happy?"

"What about shoes? And undies?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, muttering curses under her breath as she wandered over to the lingerie section. He tried to seem more interested in just how one would go about putting on the bondage outfit but stole glances at her as she browsed. She picked up a bra with a huge heart on one of the cups and glared at him. "Sorry. It's in my DNA."

"Whatever, fucking pervert."

His phone started going off in his pocket. "Oh, look. Someone other than Kinzie remembers me." He pulled it out and tapped the screen — a text message from his insurance fraud partner in crime. Even better, the location was right outside of the store. He glanced up at Denitra, who was now picking out panties, and quickly replied.

"Do you want me to get shoes too?"

"Grab everything you need."

"Fine." He looked up in time to see her grab studded black Rebel sandals. "Not bad."

"All the better to kick you with, my dear."

"If you haven't noticed by now, I have a thing for pain." He gave her a wicked smile. A jewelry rack caught his attention, with items marked for clearance. What did Shaundi say about angry women and jewelry? He'd been high at the time and didn't expect to need to remember her words later on. "Hell." He went with his gut and picked up a set that included purple Queen of Hearts earrings, Promise necklace, and True Love ring set. He dropped it on top of the stack of clothes in her arms. "To complete the outfit."

She looked down at the jewelry, surprised. She paid particular attention to the Promise necklace then looked up at him, skeptical as she tried to hide her smile. "That's it? To complete the outfit?"

He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yep."

"You're not trying to put the moves on me or anything, are you? 'Cause I've already told you, you're a Saint-"

The look he gave her made the words die in her throat. He liked being able to render her speechless with just the right expression. "Take it. Think of it as a half-assed apology for getting you shot at yesterday."

She closed her mouth and frowned. "Nothing can make up for that. And why would you want to?"

He shrugged again and smiled wider. "Ever do something just because?"

"I don't trust you."

"And I wouldn't trust you if you did." He walked over to the cashier, motioning for her to follow.

Chapter Index

It was midnight. Officially Tuesday. Jamien sat at the bar, a small glass of vodka in one hand and a lit blunt in the other. Times like this he missed Johnny the most, having someone to sit and laugh with. Pierce was okay but busy with other things. Shaundi was too close to having her throat slit, busy with her stupid show or not.

'The Saints's name used to mean more than body spray and some ass-tasting energy drink...'

Jamien tossed his drink back and hissed at the burn. Johnny was right. No wonder some ass blown Belgian thought the Saints would just roll over and take whatever he gave them. They'd sold out. The real question was, could they get it back?

The elevator let out a ding before the door slid open, and Pierce stepped out. "Those little lightning motherfuckers blew up my Sovereign!"

"What?" Jamien drew smoke from his blunt then put it down.

"The Deckers! I got a call saying that the Deckers were trying to rob the Planet Saints over in Stanfield. I take my happy ass over there to help out. We went through twelve waves of those bitches. TWELVE! A damned specialist blew up my Sovereign!" Pierce ranted, pacing back and forth.

"You can get another one, Pierce."

Pierce stopped. "That's not the fucking point, man! We just gunned down about a hundred of them! It's fucking ridiculous! We need to make these little kids sit they asses down! Go play video games or something!"

Jamien refilled his glass and nodded, offering his herbal medicine to Pierce. "This will calm you down so we can think of something."

Pierce reluctantly sat down next to Jamien. "I swear if I get my hands on one of those roller skating bitches, her face will be as blue as her damned clothes."

"Pierce. Drink. Smoke. Make with the calming down." Jamien took out his phone and dialed Kinzie's number. "The Deckers are a problem, Kinzie."

"I've been working on that."

"And? What have you come up with?" Pierce handed him the blunt, and he accepted it, took a puff, then gave it back.

"Well, I guess you were bound to be here someday."

"What are you talking about?"

"Come to my place. I'll show you what you're gonna need."

Jamien looked at his phone. He couldn't have heard her right. "Kinzie just invited us to her hideout."

Pierce's eyes widened. "No. Fucking. Way."

Jamien nodded. "Yeah. Fucking insane." He slid off of his bar stool and walked over to the intercom. "Two of you get your asses up here, now."

Pierce looked at Jamien. "You leaving Dee here?"

Jamien took one long drag on his blunt before putting it out and nodded. "I doubt Kinzie would welcome anyone but us. Besides, she's joined the army of women who are pissed off at me for some reason or another right now."

"What did you do to her?"

"I had an insurance fraud opportunity and didn't explain it to her beforehand. Apparently, it isn't funny to pretend like you're dying after being hit by seven cars. People tend to think you really are dying." He shrugged. "Shit like that."

Pierce shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but ended up shaking his head some more. "She isn't used to our life, man. The shit we go through would give normal people a heart attack."

Jamien smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about. I consider myself normal."

Pierce looked at him as if he had grown another head. "That shit isn't funny, man. Don't joke like that. You know you're not normal, right?"

Jamien only smiled and walked back over to the bar to put down his blunt. "Hey, Dee?"

No answer. It was getting old.

"I'm going out. Two guys will be here in a minute to watch you until I get back."

Still no answer. Jamien knew Denitra was in the tub. He wondered if she had the guts to drown herself in it. He thought about going up to check on her but figured she'd probably attack him and accuse him of trying to see her naked. Ugh, women. Fuck it.

The runts stepped off of the elevator, not sure what to expect.

"You're on babysitting duty. She's upstairs taking a bath, so if you have to go, use the ones downstairs. Don't bother her unless she tries to get on an elevator. She's not to leave for any reason."

"What if there's a fire?" One of them asked — a smart ass.

"Then you burn the fuck down with her and the building. When I get back here, I better find at least one of your asses up here with her, crispy critter or not." Jamien passed them and got on the elevator with Pierce.

When the doors closed, Pierce looked at him. "You really expect them to die for her?"

"Pierce, if those fuckers are dumb enough to stay in this penthouse when it's on fire, then neither of them should be a Saint. I mean, come on, would you want someone who thinks like that guarding your back in a gunfight?" Jamien shook his head. "Hell, if nothing else, I know Denitra would take them out if it really came down to it."

"How do you know?"

"She goes to college. If they teach you how to argue, then they have to teach self-preservation. That place just gives out common sense. No wonder they push kids to go to college these days."

"Then why don't you go?"

Jamien gave Pierce a meaningful look then broke out into a smile. Both men spoke at the same time.

"Nah."

---

The warehouse sat hidden amongst other abandoned ones in Salander, along the coast of the city. Inside, it was dark except for the dim glow where Kinzie had to be. "You can hit the light."

Jamien eagerly found the light switch, illuminating the area with light. Kinzie sat in a chair, cross-legged with her trusty laptop in her lap. Jamien wondered how often she replaced the thing. He also wondered something else that always came to mind whenever he saw a redhead; did the carpet match the drapes? Pierce wandered about picking up random things. "It's...homey." Jamien managed to say.

"I don't see a bed." Pierce pointed out, eyeing a newspaper clipping.

"Sleep is forbidden," Kinzie stated simply, never taking her eyes off of the computer screen.

"What the fuck did the Deckers do to the chopper?" Jamien asked, realizing that this was the second time he'd talked to Kinzie that day, yet the first time he'd asked about what happened last night.

"Matt must have hacked into its flight computer and fried it with an EMP."

Pierce picked up a mannequin head covered with a bondage mask.

"You can do that?" Jamien was surprised.

"You can do a lot worse. If Matt gets the Decker Use-Net plugged into the central power grid it's - trust me, it's bad."

Pierce shoved the mannequin in Jamien's face. Jamien jumped in surprised then frowned. Pierce threw the head down, moving onto other interesting things Kinzie had collected.

"So how do we nail the Deckers?" Jamien inquired, doing his best to ignore Pierce, who'd just found the Penetrator, a huge (no, seriously HUGE) purple bat in the form of a silicone dildo, complete with fleshy balls and circumcised tip. Right as Kinzie spoke, he felt the cold, firm head of the offending object touch his cheek, causing him to jump and look at Pierce menacingly, then gesture to Kinzie, telling him to pay attention.

"If I could worm into their mainframe, I'd do all sorts of naughty things. But I don't have the gear for that." She turned towards them suddenly, turning her computer around for them to see the monitor. They both turned to her as if they'd been paying attention the entire time. Pierce attempted to hide the huge bat behind his back, but the first thirteen inches of it hung over his head, the tip dangling downward to Jamien's head. Both of their faces were a picture of total innocence.

"That's one of the most powerful learning computers in North America... And STAG's got one."

Jamien leaned in to get a better look at what he'd be looking for when another window appeared over the 3D image. A young kid smiled back at him, with jet black hair, eyeliner, and lipstick. "Thanks for the tip, Agent Kensington."

Kinzie turned her computer back around. "Argh, damn it!"

Jamien frowned. "Wait, that punk is Matt?"

The computer giggled. "'That punk kid' is the cyber god who just crashed your helicopter. Cheers!"

The window disappeared, and Kinzie began typing on her computer. "His people are probably halfway to the computer by now." She sounded irritated already and the night wasn't even over. She looked up at them. "Go!"

Without another word, both men turned around and headed back towards Jamien's car. Once Jamien had made it back to the main road, he called Kinzie. "Kinzie, where's the computer being held?"

A black and neon blue Solar power-slid around the corner and gunned it, aiming to hit them head-on. It briefly occurred to Jamien that the Deckers were aware of Kinzie's location. He made a mental note to bring that up to her later. Pierce leaned out of his window and aimed his TEK Z-10 at the oncoming car's windshield before turning the bullet assault on the car's engine as Jamien swerved around it, causing the engine to blow.

"At the STAG PR Center. Hurry." Kinzie answered promptly.

Pierce slid back into his seat and looked over at Jamien. "So you and Shaundi were beaten by a little punk like Miller?" He shook his head.

"Beaten?" Jamien looked at Pierce for a second, offended. "He crashed our fucking helicopter."

"That sounds like you lost to me."

"Put me in a room with Miller, and we'll see who loses." Jamien retorted bitterly, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter and giving the car more gas. Jamien's phone rang again.

"Aren't you there yet?"

"Calm down. We'll get there." Jamien snapped.

"I don't want that little bastard beating me again."

"Don't worry. He won't." Jamien hung up on her and resisted the urge to throw his phone out the window. What was with the fugly attitudes from all of the women in his life?

"Kinzie's a little high strung, don't you think?"

"She barely goes out and stares at that screen most of the time. I'm surprised she's still sane."

Pierce gave his leader a doubtful look. "Are you sure she still is?"

Jamien couldn't help but smile a little at the thought of the huge bat-dildo she hadn't bothered to hide from them. He exited off the freeway, made the turn towards the PR Center, greeted by the sound and smell of gunfire that tainted the air.

"Looks like the Deckers started the party." Pierce seemed upset by it.

"Well, guess we're crashing then." Jamien shrugged, silently excited by the idea that the Deckers had opened fire already. It just meant more STAG officers would come running. It promised a longer target practice session. Live targets and ammunition equaled a good day in his book.

Pierce reached into the backseat and pulled out two D4TH Blossoms and made sure they were ready to go. "We better get in there before they take that thing."

Jamien only nodded as he drove the car directly towards the swarm of Deckers that stood outside of the front of the building, firing at the STAG officers trying to defend it. "On three, Pierce."

"What?"

"THREE!" Jamien grabbed his gun from Pierce and opened his door, throwing himself out. He hit the hard pavement and rolled, looking up in time to see that Pierce had made it out as well. The car plowed through those dumb enough to watch the car speed towards them, killing only a few of them but injuring enough to satisfy Jamien. Immediately, bullets aimed in their direction. A STAG sniper stood on top of the building and took his time to aim. While Pierce shot at the Deckers coming at them, Jamien gave his undivided attention to the moron on top of the building. One squeeze of the trigger ended the officer's life. Nearly shoulder to shoulder, the pair made their way to the front doors as they returned their enemy's fire.

"Damn, there's even more in here." Pierce had to shout over the sound of the echoing gunshots. The Deckers and STAG were spread out in the PR Center's lobby. Everyone engaged in their own heated gunfights. It was noticeably cooler than outside. In his moment of distraction, a bullet flew past his ear, clearly aimed at his face.

Jamien quickly returned the favor, only making sure to hit his mark. "You're welcome, asshole."

"STAG sure has a lot of tech in here," Pierce noted as his gun gave short, rapid bursts of gunfire, killing those who'd noticed they'd come in.

Jamien kicked a Decker in the nuts before shooting the young adult in the throat, nearly severing his head. "This shit all looks the same to me, where's the computer..."

"Don't leave any of those pathetic peons standing!" A familiar voice filled the lobby. For a second, Jamien thought he had gone insane until he realized that Matt somehow tapped into the building's PA system, enabling him to use it. Did college teach you that, too? Or was that something he'd learned somewhere else?

"Go home, Matt, and take your little Deckers with you." Kinzie's voice followed, making her sound even younger than she usually did. It was like listening to two teenagers on the phone.

"Well, someone's a sore loser, Agent Kensington."

"You haven't won yet."

Jamien made it to the stairs leading to the upper part of the lobby with Pierce at his back, skillfully gunning down any that Jamien had missed.

"If you're referring to your two pawns, they're too late."

"We'll see about that." Kinzie sneered.

"I love it when people talk about me like I'm not there," Pierce muttered.

"Really?" Jamien had to look back at the man, surprised. "I thought you didn't mind since I do it all the time and you don't say anything." Pierce's answering glare was full of disappointment.

"What's to see, except the epic failure that is the Saints?" Matt asked, the taunting in his voice becoming more than annoying.

"A bit overconfident?" Kinzie sounded smug, but they both knew she was worried they wouldn't pull it off and get the computer.

"Ugh, I see what you mean." Jamien ascended the stairs quickly, but with extreme caution. It'd be just his luck someone would be watching the stairs, aiming for the head of anyone who dared to come up.

"Thank you!"

"I am the one who got here first. I am the one leaving with the computer. I-"

"Yak, yak, yak. Get a job."

Jamien peered over the top step, immediately noticing that there were STAGs and Deckers up there as well. Pierce got on the side of him, and together they shot the ankles of those standing closest to them. Jamien grabbed a STAG officer, and Pierce caught a Decker, using them as body shields as they unleashed metal hail on their enemy. It wasn't long before the top floor was cleared as well and the lobby became quiet.

"The Deckers are loading my computer in the garage. Get. Moving." Kinzie's voice filled Jamien's earpiece.

"How do you know that?" Jamien turned quickly and headed for the stairs, to go to the elevator that was on the main floor.

"I hacked the security feed." She answered simply as if it were a normal thing to do.

"I feel like some character in a video game." Pierce followed Jamien, frowning. "I don't like the idea of Kinzie controlling me."

"Don't lie. You have a thing for collecting blow-up dolls, and she likes freakishly large dildos. You two would make a fantastic couple."

"...Shut up."

The pair dashed to the elevator and got in, and Pierce hit the button for the garage. They took the few seconds of peace to reload their guns, even checking their pistols just in case they needed those as well. When the doors opened, chaos resumed. It was the same scene as the lobby, except underneath the building, in a dim, poorly lit garage. Jamien noted it was a good thing Pierce had a thing for white suits or else he'd run the risk of accidentally shooting him. He tapped the side of his earpiece. "Kinzie, the truck's moving out, and we have company here."

"I called in reinforcements for you guys."

Pierce shot at the Deckers that were in front of him, trying to hide behind a pillar and N-Forcer. "Fuck reinforcements, we got a tank!" He pointed to the STAG marked tank, a Crusader, conveniently parked so that one could jump in, give it gas, and go. Jamien nodded his approval.

"Oh no, don't you dare! I don't want that thing anywhere near my computer!"

Jamien rolled his eyes and kept shooting. "Okay, okay. We won't use the tank."

"Really?" Pierce looked at Jamien, incredulously.

Jamien tapped his earpiece, severing their connection with Kinzie on the headset walkie-talkies. "Fuck no, we're getting our tank on." He smiled and dashed towards the tank. He lept up and planted his feet in the back of a Decker, causing the man to fall forward violently, and skid across the pavement as if he were no more than a skateboard. Jamien immediately went to man the controls of the tank, loving the idea of driving the enormous killing machine. Pierce opted for the gun on top. With one press of a button, the plasma cannon went off, killing all the Deckers that Pierce had aimed at.

Jamien let out a joyful whoop. "MURDER TIME, FUN TIME!"

Pierce aimed the cannon at the gate that closed off the garage and pressed the trigger again, destroying it. Jamien hit the gas, and the tank began to roll, much faster than he was used to with regular tanks. Pierce kept the cannon firing as they reached the street level and turned to give chase to the fleeing semi-truck that had the computer. Familiar Harlequin purple vehicles approached them. Ah, the reinforcements.

"Okay, following the truck on the street cams and... Oh God! What the hell are you doing?"

"Going after the truck." Pierce answered simply, firing a few rounds at oncoming Decker cars.

"I said DON'T use the tank!"

"Relax, we won't use the cannon," Jamien said soothingly as Pierce fired the cannon at a few more Decker cars.

Pierce smiled and began imitating static on a cell phone with bad reception. "Kinzie, you're breaking up..."

"No, I'm not. You're just using your mouth to pretend like you are!"

Jamien stifled a chuckled and played along, pretending he couldn't hear Kinzie very well. "W-what's that Kinzie?"

"Ugh. Use the machine gun then, NOT the cannon." The connection disconnected.

"You think she's mad?"

Pierce used extra caution when aiming at the tires of the truck, using the machine gun to blow them out. It wasn't nearly as fun as using the plasma cannon or even the Repeating Laser, but Jamien forced himself to remember that the overall goal was to bring the computer back in one undamaged piece. He made a mental note to take the tank out for a spin once this was over. The truck came to a crawl, so Jamien parked the tank in front of it. Pierce used his SMG to kill the driver then climbed down from his perch. Jamien poked his head out once Pierce hit the ground.

"I can drive the truck back if you want to follow in the tank."

Jamien looked at the bed of the truck and its tires. "Ugh. It doesn't look like the truck will keep a hold on the computer." His shoulders slumped with disappointment, catching a whiff of rain in the air. Another storm was coming. "Fuck. We'll have to leave the tank here so I can ride with the computer." He dropped back down inside and backed the tank up so the truck would be able to pass then got out. "If nothing else, I know where to get a sweet ass tank."

"Damn right." Pierce smiled, knowing he'd be back for one, too.

The ride back to Kinzie's hideout was surprisingly uneventful. Other than the occasional Decker car that would come from seemingly nowhere to shoot at Jamien, who would shoot the driver to stop the car altogether, nothing happened. He expected a roadblock of some sort but was slightly disappointed. When they reached Kinzie's, it was raining. They found her sitting outside, cross-legged, with her laptop in her lap, typing away. Pierce honked the horn, and she looked up. He parked in front of her and Jamien jumped off the trailer with a smile.

"Ugh." She slid underneath the railing of the stairs she sat on and walked over to the computer. Jamien suddenly wondered if the damned thing was waterproof. "Aw man."

"So you're set right?"

"Almost, I need a chair."

"I'll give you fifty bucks, pick out a nice one." Jamien joked, yet slightly serious. If she only needed a damn chair, he'd buy her whatever the fuck she picked out.

"Funny." She looked at him. "I'll explain it all once this thing's set up."

"Well, Oleg's on his way over now. He said he wasn't far from here."

"Great. At least someone will understand what the hell I'm talking about." Kinzie looked over the machine, checking it for any damage. Jamien and Pierce decided to wait for Oleg to show up and used the moment for a quick smoke break. Right when they were about to put out their cigarettes, a purple Criminal came around the corner, with a big burly figure riding in its bed.

"Well, he's here. Can we go?" Pierce started towards the approaching vehicle and Jamien followed. It was no secret that, while Pierce had no problem playing chest with the man, Oleg made Pierce uneasy. Jamien had yet to figure out if it was because he'd met the Russian when he was naked or if he resembled the brutes cloned from him too closely. Or maybe it was because the brutes they fought on a regular basis had to get their brutality from somewhere, and it was possible that Oleg to snap at any moment and go on a killing spree. As it was, it took about a clip to kill a regular brute.

Oleg and the two Saints he rode with got out of the car. Oleg nodded his head in their direction and kept going towards Kinzie. Pierce got in the driver's seat leaving the passenger seat for Jamien. Jamien noted the new car smell and lack of leather his butt cheeks were accustomed to. This SUV had black suede seats. Suede. It felt nice, especially in comparison to how leather held heat when it rained.

It wasn't until they were back on the road, on their way to Safeword, when Pierce spoke. "So... It's been over forty-eight hours since Denitra came along. Having second thoughts yet?"

Jamien laughed and shook his head, as he knew Pierce was bound to ask him at some point. Once he settled down, he thought about it. "I don't want her to think she's won."

"This isn't really a game, man. It doesn't matter one way or another. She's just a girl."

"I know that. I was talking about Shaundi. I don't want her to think she can just tell me what to do whenever she feels like it."

"I understand that, Boss. You can drive that point home a thousand different ways."

"I don't like being told what to do." Jamien gave Pierce a warning glare.

"I'm not telling you what to do. I'm simply advising you. It's my job. If Johnny were here, what would he think? What would he say?" Pierce looked over at him briefly then back at the road. "I'm sure you probably wouldn't like it, but you'd listen to him. She's an outsider, man. She's not used to this shit. She's all sunshine, peace, and love. We're shadows, war, and hate. Complete fucking opposites. It's like having a KKK member hanging around a party with minorities. You're asking for trouble."

"Pierce." Jamien looked at him, getting annoyed.

Pierce huffed and shook his head. "You don't need her around."

"I know that. She's like decoration to me. There but unnecessary."

"That should tell you that she shouldn't be around us."

Jamien sighed and slumped down in his seat, pouting. "I don't know how to explain it. Besides wanting to piss Shaundi off and teach her a lesson, I like... Denitra's different. Like you said. It's kinda like your love for luxury sports cars. Even though you prefer this one type of car, you still like the complete opposite of it, tanks."

"How in the hell is that the complete oppo-"

"You get what the fuck I'm saying. Shut up."

"Okay." Pierce nodded. "I kinda get it. So you want to pack a daisy with your guns from time to time." He shrugged.

"What the fuck?"

"I mean, in the midst of all this violence, you want a bit of peace around." He chuckled. "You sound like Johnny talking about Aisha."

Jamien stilled, unable to look away from Pierce. "What?"

"They were complete opposites too, remember? Hell, so much so that they could barely stay together, but also barely stay apart. The shit they had was crazy, but it worked for them."

Jamien looked out his window and cleared his throat. "They had love."

Pierce started to say something but stopped himself, nodding instead. "Yeah, they did."

---

The ride up to the loft was a quiet one since Pierce opted to go to the Broken Shillelagh for a drink. Jamien leaned his head back against the plush covered wall and groaned. Although he didn't have any bullets to dig out of his body this time, his head was pounding. It seemed he only got thinking cramps after talking to Pierce. It was now after three in the morning, and the only thing he could think of was collapsing on the bed. Hopefully, Denitra was still in her quiet mood.

He should be so lucky.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he was greeted by her melodic voice, shouting at the top of her lungs. He at first thought she was laying into one of the runts he left to watch her.

"There's no need to get so upset, baby. It's a compliment. You should put that body to good use, one way or another."

Zimos and his auto-tune had found her. Oh, God.

"That's not a fucking compliment!" Denitra took a step towards him. Jamien was surprised to see her babysitters in between the two, trying to separate them.

Zimos shrugged and adjusted his zebra print tie. "Coming from me, it's a compliment, trust me. If you aren't willing to spread your nookie love, then at least consider being a stripper. With a body like that," he tilted his head to the side slightly, appraising her body, "you could make a lot of money. But that attitude of yours will have to go."

"I would never." Denitra folded her arms across her chest angrily. Jamien quietly moved over towards them, stopping at the pool table.

"Oh, don't get too high and mighty, baby. It's very rare for a female college student not to pick up a night job shaking her ass for dollars." He casually stepped around the Saint that stood in front of him. "You talk all this cute shit now, but once reality sets in and you need the money, you'll think back on what I'm saying." He reached over and ran a finger down her cheek. "And my offer will still be on the table, but you'll have to apologize for all this back talk with a little time on your back."

Jamien moved quickly. He caught her wrist, stopping her fist from connecting with the man's jaw. He noted that she didn't really have any power behind it, but he admired her for standing up for herself.

Zimos stared at Denitra with an unreadable look in his eyes but spoke to Jamien. "I didn't see you come in."

Jamien nodded his head and pulled Denitra back towards him, to his side. "I can see why. Let's call it a night, guys. I'm tired." Jamien turned away, forcing Denitra to follow him.

"Night, Boss." One of the runts called out before making his way to the elevator with his partner.

"This early? I brought some girls up for you, thought you'd like to party a little bit. Maybe even spend some time with Candi." Zimos called out as Jamien reached the stairs.

"No, thank you." Jamien shook his head. "It's been a long day and an even longer night. I've already explained to her that I won't see her for a while."

"In exchange for this one?"

Jamien's shoulders dropped, and he sighed loudly. He was tired of getting shit over Denitra. It seemed like everyone was developing their opinions over his decision and didn't like it. And like Shaundi, they all were forgetting just who the fuck he was and what he would do should he get pushed too fucking close to the edge of his sanity. He turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder at the man. "I think I said...to call it a night, Zimos." Rage began to simmer, just below the surface.

It took a minute for Zimos to respond, putting his hands up in surrender. "If you insist, man. The real party will be downstairs, should you change your mind."

"I won't," Jamien muttered, stomping up the stairs.

"Jamien." Denitra's hushed voice stopped him.

"What." He snapped, looking back at her. Her eyes were wide with fear. She was trying to free her wrist from his grip.

"Y-you're hurting me. Please let go." She whispered. She was afraid of him. He blinked a few times, trying to understand what he'd done to scare her, then dropped her wrist. She rubbed it tenderly, and he saw that her caramel skin had turned an angry red.

"I-I'm sorry." He reached for her hand, but she pulled it back, out of his reach. "I'm sorry."

She looked at his hand, reaching for her, skeptically before putting her hand in his. He led her up the rest of the stairs, to the bathroom where the light was the best. Her wrist was swollen. He knew in just a few hours that a bruise would appear where his fingers had been. "I need to put ice on it." She whispered.

He nodded, feeling guilty. "I can go get it."

"No, I'll do it." She stopped him. "You said you were tired."

"I don't want you to get tempted to leave."

"You heard that rap star reject. He's downstairs waiting on you to join him. He'll be watching the elevator. If I go down there, I'll end up breaking one of the Ten Commandments. It would be just my luck that I end up in hell with his ass." She shook her head then bit her lip. "I don't know why, but I feel like I should thank you."

"I didn't do much but tell him to go away."

She shrugged and turned away. "I know. But you didn't have to do that. I didn't expect you to. So, thank you, for saying something."

He watched her walk away and leaned against the wall. Pierce's words came back to him. He wondered what exactly Johnny would have said about it all.

Chapter Index