The Evil That Men Do | $UICIDEBOY$ | $CRIM

9: Uglier

Dad wanted to build an empire in New Orleans, and eventually in Europe. He wanted to get away from here eventually and 'fall off the face off the earth,' as he described it to me. Didn't blame him, I want to win at life too.

Within another 30 minutes of standing around, smoking down stogs, Grimm finally rushed out of the house, a seething look on his face.

He approached the car and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, slamming me against the side of my car. I was taken aback, simply because I wasn't expecting him use so much force. It had been a while since he put his hands on me. He had been... 'Better' about it, I guess.

I threw my hands up. "Woah, what's your damage, dude?" It did scare me a bit, but I was used to this kind of physical abuse from Grimm. I didn't like it, of course. Since that last shitty night in the 7th Ward 3 years ago, he'd been holding back the raging on me, he still did sometimes, but I know he was still struggling with narcotics. I didn't give him that pass though, I was just more patient.

"You made me look like some kind of little kid," he spat, his grip around my shirt collar tightening with each word. "Like I'm Dad's lapdog that's being beckoned." He threw me back against the car again, this time purposely hitting my head.

I clenched my teeth before bashing my head against his, head-butting him back. He wavered back, putting his hand to his forehead, before his eyes met mine once again.

He grinned menacingly, before lunging at me. It didn't take more than half a second for him to have tackled me into the side of the car again, his shoulder and elbow firmly pinning me to the door.

It knocked the wind out of me with one sharp exhale, and I groaned in response. I gritted my teeth as he began to dig his shoulder farther into my stomach.

"I... fucking... hate you...," I forced out, before launching my elbow back and sending a blow straight to his neck. He fumbled, allowing me to slip from his pin, and kick him down to the ground. Once his ass hit the pavement, I tackled him, sending blows to his head and chest, not thinking of where to punch, but just doing it.

He reached out to grab my fist as I threw a punch, but I simply grabbed his hand before grabbing his forearm with my other hand. He grunted and started to flail, trying to get from my grip, but he knew what was coming.

Without a second thought, I pulled with my might, hearing a low, loud, 'pop' from his shoulder. He cried out in pain, and grunted continuously, clutching his arm.

He was lucky I only dislocated his shoulder.

Small pants escaped me as I stared at his pain-filled expression laced with animosity. He was raging, but all he could do was stare and pant. "You'll just have to explain yourself to dad as he fixes that useless arm of yours."

"I'll kill you." He snarled.

I huffed. "I'd like to see you try sometime."

-

It had been a few weeks since the last incident with my brother. He had other work to fulfill and I had to attend drug deals with my dad and his coworkers' kids. I wasn't particularly fond of any of them, besides Gloxinia. I called him Glock.

He was the only person I knew who used the sniper as good as a trained assassin. His dad was a machine, but it was all due to his mother's passing a few years before. Since then, all that family did was drill their work into their brains to forget the pain they felt.