My hands were clenched so tight my knuckles ached.
I didn’t move yet.
Not because I wasn’t ready.
Because I wanted to watch them realize.
They got them onto the bed.One, two, three, like a row of problems laid out for correction.
Wrecker grabbed the chair from the corner, cheap plastic, one leg slightly shorter than the others, and swung it around to sit facing them.
Pipe stood to Wrecker’s right, arms crossed.
Junior took the side, leaning against the wall like he had all night.
Cole and I stood opposite Pipe, flanking Wrecker like we were his shadows.
The TV still blared.
Wrecker grabbed the remote and clicked it off.
Silence dropped hard.
“Tell us your fucking names,” Junior said, “before you end up like Timmy.”
The guy on the left’s eyes widened so fast it was almost comical.“Rocket,” he blurted, voice shaky.He nodded toward the others.“Jonas in the middle.Dusty on the end.”
Wrecker smiled wider.“See?Was that so hard?”
“Fuck you,” Jonas rasped, blood thick on his lip.
“Fuck.You,” Wrecker repeated, mocking.“Know who I am?”he asked, his tone deadly.
Jonas spat right onto Wrecker’s boot.
Wrecker stared down at it like he was genuinely offended by the audacity.
Then he glanced at Pipe.“Why the hell do these assholes always gotta spit on me?”
Pipe shrugged like this was a mystery of the universe.“No clue.But I’m sure they’ll learn it’s bad manners by the time we’re done with them.”
“They’re gonna learn something,” Junior said, voice flat as stone.
“We don’t give a fuck who you are,” Dusty snapped.
Wrecker’s smile was slow and mean.“Well, that’s not very nice.But I give a fuck who you are.”
Jonas spat again.
Wrecker’s jaw tightened.Pipe’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
Wrecker muttered something under his breath that sounded likestupid fuckers.
Junior pushed off the wall and moved in one quick step.
His fist slammed into Jonas’s face.
Jonas’s head snapped back.Blood sprayed from his nose, and he slumped sideways and moaned.