Sheila literally could not find the words. No young man in her life had ever said such beautiful things to her, even her boyfriend. Her heart was pounding, and she felt as if she were melting, a sublime shiver teasing her body. She did not even notice that Del was still holding her hand, which had relaxed, thus allowing him to clasp it more intimately.
“You’re nervous,” Del observed.
“What?” Sheila asked.
“Your hand’s trembling,” he elaborated.
“Del I–” Sheila began.
“I understand. Sorry for making you uncomfortable,” Del said as he started to disengage his hand from hers.
Her hand tightened around Del’s. “No, Del, I–”
“Drink time!” James announced in a silly, singsong voice as he carefully settled in his seat.
Sheila and Del quickly separated as James distributed the drinks. “You two have fun while I was gone?” James asked.
“Loads,” Sheila assured him as she attempted to hide her disappointment at her friend’s return. She was desperately hoping Del would take her hand, resume their conversation, anything, but he had once again fallen silent.
THRITY TWO
“Spendin’ a lot of time with your children nowadays?” Clubfoot’s inquired.
“Me and Caitlyn both, and we couldn’t be happier! We finally feel like a complete family,” Max answered enthusiastically.
Several hours after the conclusion of the kendo match, Del had accompanied his father to Clubfoot’s shop. The old man was entertaining his visitors while his assistant closed up his shop. Del was rapidly coming to revere the old man, both on a personal level and for his choice to resign his ranger commission and forgo it’s luxuries in favor of life as a peaceful shopkeeper. He leapt at any chance to visit the man, and relished the time spent doing so.
“Sounds like you’re genuinely happy. And tell me, how’s this son of yours gettin’ along?” Clubfoot asked as he looked to Del.
“Very well,” Max answered, “He’s adjusted very well to everything. He excels in his ranger training, even though we’re still tryin’ to get him a career reassignment. And he’s met a young woman.”
Clubfoot smiled, “So, tell me about this young woman, Del.”
“Her name’s Sheila Beech and she’s simply amazing! She’s eighteen, and she’s smart, beautiful, and a lot of fun to be around. I’m crazy about her! We see each other almost every day, and it is pure bliss to be with her. Unfortunately, she has a boyfriend.”
“You tell her how you feel?” Clubfoot inquired.
Del shook his head slowly, causing Clubfoot to let out a loud bark of laughter. “Then how’re you gonna win her heart?” the old man eventually asked, “Maybe the reason she’s with this other guy is because she thinks you’re not interested.”
Del looked hopeful, “You think so?”
“It’s been known to happen,” Clubfoot told him.
“Should I tell her now?” Del asked his father.
“You know where she is right now?” Max countered.
“Heaven-Sent. She always goes there on Saturday nights,” was Del’s immediate response.
“Then maybe you should go see her,” Max suggested as he transferred some money to his son’s bank account via Cell.
“How will I know what to say?” Del asked.
“You’re smart. I’m sure it’ll come to you,” Clubfoot assured him.
Del nodded and shook the man’s hand before turning to Max and hugging his neck. “I’ll be home by eleven,” he promised.
Max and Clubfoot watched the young man hurry off down the street. “You think it’s a good idea to get him involved in romance so soon outta Dis?” Clubfoot asked.
“You’re the one who suggested he tell her his feelings. And besides, it couldn’t hurt,” Max shrugged.
Clubfoot also shrugged, “I s’pose not.”
#
Heaven-Sent was just starting to fill with jubilant youths when Del walked into the club. He had spent the bus ride over trying out different approaches to the task at hand and felt certain he had found the right way to make his feelings known. When he walked into the club, he instantly knew something was wrong. Loud, rhythmic music filled the air, but the patrons in the club were standing quietly around the door that led to the lavatory.
Del wandered towards the crowd and tapped the shoulder of one of the people at its rear. Once the boy turned around, Del asked what was going on. “Some guy named Radley beat his girlfriend up real bad! She’s in the bathroom right now cryin’ her eyes out,” the boy told him.
Del’s stomach did a sickly turn, and he began to force his way through the crowd. When he reached the lavatory door he was suddenly met by James. His cousin tried to force away from the lavatory while attempting to placate him, “She’s okay! She just got into a tussle with another girl! She’ll be all right in a minute!”
Del was silent as he grabbed ahold of the front of James’s shirt and effortlessly tossed him aside. Once in the lavatory, he could hear quiet sobbing coming from the stall furthest from the door, so he quietly walked to the stall and peered in. Sheila was slumped down by the toilet with her arms covering her face. Her arms were marred by numerous cuts and bruises, and once she raised her head Del went hot with fury. Her face was also covered with cuts and bruises, and one of her eyes was completely swollen shut and colored a dark purple. A great gash divided her lower lip into two parts, and dried blood was caked on her chin and beneath her nostrils.
“No! You weren’t supposed to see this!” she sobbed as she once again hid her face.
Del approached the young woman, knelt down, and gently pulled her arms away from her face, holding her hands in his own. “Radley did this?”
“Yeah, but you should see what I did to him!”
“Why did he do this?”
“He found out about all the time we’ve been spending together. He called me a filthy slut, then he drug me in here. He hit me, so I started wailin’ on him, but then his gang came in, and they all beat me. They made sure no one could come in and help me while they did it. They’re all bastards!”
“I apologize for giving him a reason to hurt you,” Del said softly.
Sheila broke down into to pitiful little sobs and, without another word, Del stalked from the lavatory. James met him in the club proper. “Where does Radley stay?” Del asked his cousin.
“What’re you gonna do?” James asked with apprehension.
“Where does he stay?!”
“You can’t go there! The Blackfeathers will be waiting for you! Can’t you see that Radley did this to draw you out?! It’s suicide! Just let the rangers scoop him up!”
James let out a yelp as Del suddenly clamped his hands on James’s shoulders and pulled him close.
“WHERE IS HE?!” Del roared.
James took a deep breath and with downcast eyes began reciting the directions to Radley’s hangout.
#
Radley let out a loud laugh before nibbling the neck of the teenage girl lounging in his lap. He was not sure who the girl was, but as long as she continued to let him treat her like a trollop, he was perfectly fine with the situation. He and his gang of twelve young men and women his own age were holed up in the abandoned warehouse they used as their hangout. The gang was still reeling over their disciplining of Radley’s latest steady piece of tail. The slut had gotten what she deserved for her straying, and her beating would draw out the arrogant jackass who had tempted her to do so. Never mind the fact she had roughed Radley up pretty bad before said beating, a fact no one dared to mention within earshot of him.
A thunderous pounding on the warehouse’s freight door caused the gang to go quiet, the underlings looking to Radley for direction. Radley shrugged, “I’m sure we know who it is. Go ahead and open it.”
Two of the stronger gang members hurried forward and began pulling on the heavy chain that operated the freight door. Once it had risen about six feet in height, the entire gang peer
ed through the opening to see Del standing with clenched fists and taut body, his eyes fixed hatefully on Radley.
“Radley Shaffer! Come face me, so I can beat you down like the pile of shit you are!” Del demanded.
Radley blew a flatulent-sounding raspberry before bellowing, “Blackfeathers, take care of this smart-assed little birdie!”
The two youths who had opened the door started forward, and as soon as they were in range they tried to grab Del, but he surged forward and delivered a quick, snapping side kick to each attacker’s head, knocking them to the floor. As these two lay groaning quietly, three more of Radley’s number started towards him, and as each one tried to attack him, he easily dodged the attack and retaliated with a crippling blow that left the attacker lying motionless on the ground. Radley whistled and motioned more of his followers towards Del, only to have them easily incapacitated by the young man. In seemingly no time the only thing standing between Radley and Del was the girl in Radley’s lap. Radley shoved the girl aside, shot to his feet, and faced Del with defiant rage.
“You got through my gang, but I’m ten times better than even the best of ‘em! You can still walk outta here, but if you stay and try to take me on, that’ll be your last mistake!” threatened Radley.
Del fixed Radley with a murderous stare and was very impressed with Sheila’s handiwork. She had transformed Radley’s face into a case study of a pugilistic brutalizing. It was badly swollen, thoroughly covered with bruises and scrapes, and Del could easily tell that the young man’s nose was shattered. Although she was a pacifist, it seemed as if Sheila had paid close attention during her martial practice classes in school.
“Wow! Sheila really destroyed you, didn’t she? Have to say you’ve never looked better, though,” Del remarked with a sneer.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ murder you!” Radley growled.
“We’ll see,” Del returned calmly.
Radley let out an angry shout and charged towards Del. Del sidestepped the charge and readied himself for Radley’s oncoming assault. The assault in question was a ferocious and well-practiced one as Radley used every ounce of his martial skill in an attempt to conquer his foe. Del easily defended himself from Radley’s attacks and was able to sneak in many of his own that went unchallenged. Radley soon began to tire, and when he finally let a fatal flaw enter his defense, Del took advantage. As Radley pulled a fist back in an attempt to punch Del’s face, he let his offhand drop to his hip, leaving himself open to Del’s assault. Five punches to the abdomen and diaphragm staggered Radley, and a fierce uppercut to his chin sent him off his feet and onto his back.
“I want you to picture everything you did to Sheila, because I’m going to give you ten times worse!” Del swore before proceeding to brutalize his downed foe with kicks and stomps.
Radley could do nothing but let out a dry wheeze as Del’s heels forced the air from his lungs and cut and bruised his body. Radley was finally able to roll over on his stomach, but the pummeling he was enduring continued unabated. When he realized that Del was going to best him in fisticuffs, he reached behind his belt and pulled out a small stiletto dagger that he was certain would give him a permanent victory over the Von Raben cock-spank. Radley quickly rolled over and plunged three inches of the dagger’s blade into the calf muscle of Del’s right leg. Intense horror froze Radley’s heart as Del kneeled down and wrenched the knife from his grasp, never once acknowledging the deep wound that had been inflicted on him.
“Who are you?!” Radley cried, fear rendering him nearly paralyzed.
“Your executioner!” Del growled as he kneeled down and pressed the point of the dagger against Radley’s jugular.
Radley let out a low whine, closed his eyes, and waited for the knife to cut into him. When nearly a minute passed without any kind of activity, he opened his eyes and was shocked to see a man he knew from many a news broadcast holding Del by the wrist. Two stern-faced Raven rangers in full barding flanked this newcomer.
“It’s over, Big Guy,” Max soothed, “you’ve beaten him.”
“Yeah,” Radley agreed desperately, “I’m finished! It’s all yours; the warehouse, Sheila, all yours!”
“Shut up!” Del growled.
Radley immediately went silent.
Del relaxed, stood, and let the dagger fall from his hand. “You can keep your shitty warehouse, and you will never so much as think about Sheila ever again!” he declared, his voice thick with menace.
Radley nodded, “R-right! Never again!”
#
Sheila was released from the hospital just before midnight and was being escorted from the building by her parents when a Lux-car pulled up to the curb. The passenger door opened to let Del out onto the sidewalk in front of them. She immediately noticed that he seemed to be slightly favoring his right leg.
“Can I give you a ride home?” he asked with a shy smile.
Sheila gave him a small smile, being careful not to aggravate her injured lip, “Only if my parents can come.”
The young woman and her parents climbed into the Lux-car, where they found Del’s father waiting to cordially introduce himself. Sheila, in turn, introduced Del to her parents as the Lux-car pulled away from the curb. They rode in silence for a while, a silence Sheila broke. “Mom, Dad, you were right,” she said.
“About what, Little Bug?” her mother, who had been stroking her daughter’s hair, asked, using her pet name for her daughter.
“About Radley and about the way I’ve been acting. It took me getting hurt to realize what a horrible bunch of people I was running with, and what a horrible person I was becoming. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I promise I’ll do better from now on,” Sheila related.
Sheila’s mother was silent as she hugged her daughter tight, tears falling freely from her eyes. Her father squeezed her hand and looked to her with a small, knowing smile, “This young man have anything to do with your sudden epiphany?”
Sheila smiled, blushed, and tried desperately to avoid Del’s gaze, “Maybe.”
Before they knew it, the Lux-car was coasting to a stop at the curb in front of the apartment building Sheila’s family called home. Sheila and her parents exited the vehicle, and Del stepped out behind them, causing Sheila to turn and face him.
“Will we continue hanging out together when you’re better?” he asked hopefully.
Sheila pinned Del with a coy little grin, “I think we’ll be doing a lot more than just ‘hanging out.’ ”
Del was just about to ask what she meant by that statement when Sheila came forward, took his head in her hands, and kissed him despite the pain this caused her injured lip.
THIRTY THREE
The West Chieftown speakeasy was doing a brisk business when Richard Fulsom came storming in. Ramiro instantly came from behind the bar and attempted to console the obviously agitated CEO. “Why so angry, mi gracia?” he inquired as he stepped in front of Richard.
“Where is he?!” Richard barked.
“Who?” Ramiro asked.
“Your boss! Your White Spider!”
“He’s here, but he’s currently indisposed. If you give me just a few minutes, I’ll announce you,” Ramiro pleaded.
“To the Abyss with that!” Richard spat as he brushed past Ramiro.
“Que lastima!” Ramiro sighed.
Richard had made his way to the hallway leading to the White Spider’s office before Ramiro caught him again. “Come now, sweet, be reasonable. It’ll only be a few minutes before the White Spider is finished with his business, and then you can see him. I give you my word. Please?” he pleaded.
Richard roughly shouldered past Ramiro, stormed down the hall, and stopped in front of the White Spider’s office door. He quickly kicked the door open and was stopped short by the sight that greeted him. The White Spider was standing at the center of the room, his back facing the door. Instead of the gray of the spider genin’s mask covering the back of the man’s head, there was short sable hair. Upon hearing the door bang
open, the man quickly threw his mask over his head and sealed it shut. Richard crossed his arms over his chest and smiled proudly as the White Spider whirled around and regarded him with clenched fists.
“I am so very sorry, mi jefe!” Ramiro swooned as he dropped to the floor and kowtowed before the White Spider.
The White Spider took his usual seat at the center of the room.
Richard went and, without invitation, sat before the White Spider. “I want something done now!” he griped.
“About what?” the White Spider glowered.
“The damned Von Rabens! They’re undefeatable! I’ve thrown everything I’ve got at them and paid your House a ton of money to dispose of them, and still they stand strong! I also have it on good authority that my pet governor lost the votes of Floyd, Von Raben, and Beardsley! Furthermore, the leverage you couldn’t be bothered to protect helped bust up one of the most notorious street gangs in East Chieftown! They’re so fucking blessed you’d think Von Raben DNA was threaded with celestial fucking platinum!
“And what’re you doing about it?! The same exact damn thing you’ve been doing for years; abso-fucking-lutely nothing! If something isn’t done on your part to deal with them, then I’ll get my money back, by word or blade!” Richard raged.
“Calm yourself, CEO. We’re currently planning an attack that’ll not only wipe out the Von Raben’s but will give you controlling interest of Veriform Holdings and see that the Liberty-backed presidential candidate gets elected.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, and it will only cost you thirty million.”
“That’s practically everything I have left, damn you! It’s always about money with you, isn’t it! Oh, don’t worry, I’ll pay your insane fee, but I expect results! You hear me?! Results!” Richard shouted as he pounded a fist on the floor in front of the White Spider.
The White Spider flew to his feet, lunged forward, and snatched Richard to his feet by his left ear. Richard was about to let out a cry of indignation, but instead let out the first of numerous cries of pain as the White Spider began to savagely beat him. The impudent CEO put up a token resistance, but his formidable martial prowess was easily thwarted by his attacker. He was thrown violently about the office, the White Spider seemingly unconcerned with the damage to his personal property, the shojis placed about the room being pulverized by Richard’s flying body. Finally, Richard was flung against the door, where he slumped to the floor and lay groaning in misery as he struggled to breathe. The White Spider casually strolled forward and stared down at the battered man.
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