and cigarette smoke filled the air. I always hated smoking, but everything was different. I turned to the chimney next to me and bummed a smoke. I noticed the man had the same roman numeral five tattoo on his neck as the man who shot Ellie. It wasn't the same man. I figured it was a gang symbol. I wasn't sure, so I decided to ask.
"What does that mean?" I asked, pointing at the tattoo.
The man squinted as he leaned back and looked me up and down. I couldn't tell if he was trying to be tough or if he was just farsighted.
"The fuck is it to you?" he said.
"Just wondering man, it looks pretty dope," I said with an assuring nod.
He leaned in close to me and spoke softly. His breath smelled like shit.
"That's the sign of the Fifth Street Dogs. So be careful asking questions, unless you wanna get fucked up," he said with a grin.
Confirmation that the man was part of the gang that ruined my life made my blood boil. I put out the cigarette and wrapped my fingers around the glass ash tray.
"I'd rather do the fucking myself," I said. I stood up and smashed the ash tray into his face as hard as I could. It shattered into shards.
The man spit up blood and pieces of teeth into his hands. His eyes grew wide and he backed off of the bar and away from me slowly. I jumped up, grabbed a stool, and bashed him over the head with it. He hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
I dropped the stool and looked around. The bar was quiet and the few people inside stared at me. A few guys looked like they wanted to make a move, so I headed for the door before it got uglier.
I felt better. I missed Ellie worse every day, but my spontaneous act of aggression vented some of the heat from my now ice-cold heart. It wasn't enough though. I wanted more. I needed more.
I took a cab back to the hotel. I'd been avoiding going home since the incident. I couldn't be there without her. Not yet. So I spent fifty-five bucks a night at a fleabag shithole.
I walked up to my room, and the girl staying next door, Kendall, was hanging out on the patio smoking a joint.
"What's with the long face, handsome?" she asked.
"Long day," I said. "And it's about to get longer."
"Sit down and relax for a minute," Kendall said, holding the joint toward me. "Take the edge off."
I was tempted, but I had to keep my head clear.
"No time. Work to do. I will bum one of those cigarettes from you though, if you don't mind," I said as I pointed to the pack resting in her lap.
She tossed me the pack. "Only two left, you can have them," she said.
I nodded. "Appreciate it."
She looked at me like she wanted to jump my bones, but it was far too soon for me, no matter how attractive she was. I went into my room.
Inside I immediately went on my phone, searching the internet for any information I could get on the Fifth Street Dogs. There were several articles about crimes linked to the gang, all that took place within a twelve mile radius of Fifth Street, naturally. I yanked open the drawer of the nightstand and right next to the obligatory Bible was a map of the city. I pulled it out and began circling the locations of the crimes.
I figured those would be the best places to start looking. I needed some things before the hunt began though, including a tight eight hours of rest to sober up. I had to stay clear-headed and focused if I was going to get justice for Ellie.
The booze were the only reason I was able to get any rest. I was grateful for that, even if I ended up with a hangover. I was always good at curing a hangover. Black coffee. Eggs with hot sauce. Stiff screwdriver. Good as new. It was always a simple fix. But now I had problems that I couldn't fix. The haunting images of my lover's last moments. The perpetual loneliness which would never subside. The rage. The rage that changed me. I was once full of love and dreams. Now all I had left is hatred and nightmares.
I woke in the middle of the night to a knocking on my door.
"You awake in
"What does that mean?" I asked, pointing at the tattoo.
The man squinted as he leaned back and looked me up and down. I couldn't tell if he was trying to be tough or if he was just farsighted.
"The fuck is it to you?" he said.
"Just wondering man, it looks pretty dope," I said with an assuring nod.
He leaned in close to me and spoke softly. His breath smelled like shit.
"That's the sign of the Fifth Street Dogs. So be careful asking questions, unless you wanna get fucked up," he said with a grin.
Confirmation that the man was part of the gang that ruined my life made my blood boil. I put out the cigarette and wrapped my fingers around the glass ash tray.
"I'd rather do the fucking myself," I said. I stood up and smashed the ash tray into his face as hard as I could. It shattered into shards.
The man spit up blood and pieces of teeth into his hands. His eyes grew wide and he backed off of the bar and away from me slowly. I jumped up, grabbed a stool, and bashed him over the head with it. He hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
I dropped the stool and looked around. The bar was quiet and the few people inside stared at me. A few guys looked like they wanted to make a move, so I headed for the door before it got uglier.
I felt better. I missed Ellie worse every day, but my spontaneous act of aggression vented some of the heat from my now ice-cold heart. It wasn't enough though. I wanted more. I needed more.
I took a cab back to the hotel. I'd been avoiding going home since the incident. I couldn't be there without her. Not yet. So I spent fifty-five bucks a night at a fleabag shithole.
I walked up to my room, and the girl staying next door, Kendall, was hanging out on the patio smoking a joint.
"What's with the long face, handsome?" she asked.
"Long day," I said. "And it's about to get longer."
"Sit down and relax for a minute," Kendall said, holding the joint toward me. "Take the edge off."
I was tempted, but I had to keep my head clear.
"No time. Work to do. I will bum one of those cigarettes from you though, if you don't mind," I said as I pointed to the pack resting in her lap.
She tossed me the pack. "Only two left, you can have them," she said.
I nodded. "Appreciate it."
She looked at me like she wanted to jump my bones, but it was far too soon for me, no matter how attractive she was. I went into my room.
Inside I immediately went on my phone, searching the internet for any information I could get on the Fifth Street Dogs. There were several articles about crimes linked to the gang, all that took place within a twelve mile radius of Fifth Street, naturally. I yanked open the drawer of the nightstand and right next to the obligatory Bible was a map of the city. I pulled it out and began circling the locations of the crimes.
I figured those would be the best places to start looking. I needed some things before the hunt began though, including a tight eight hours of rest to sober up. I had to stay clear-headed and focused if I was going to get justice for Ellie.
The booze were the only reason I was able to get any rest. I was grateful for that, even if I ended up with a hangover. I was always good at curing a hangover. Black coffee. Eggs with hot sauce. Stiff screwdriver. Good as new. It was always a simple fix. But now I had problems that I couldn't fix. The haunting images of my lover's last moments. The perpetual loneliness which would never subside. The rage. The rage that changed me. I was once full of love and dreams. Now all I had left is hatred and nightmares.
I woke in the middle of the night to a knocking on my door.
"You awake in
Similar Books
