About two weeks passed, during which Abraham felt like he was on top of the world. Each day spent with Thunder was glorious, even if all they did was go out to various parks and beaches. Just being in each other’s presence was enough for him. Talk which might otherwise have bored him became exciting. He listened to endless stories from Thunder about designs he had completed, many of which were still being used by the people he created them for. All it took was a quick search and Abraham could see the works for himself. Some of the designs were little more than logos with fancy fonts, while others were intricate and clearly personal.

“The funny thing is that the complicated ones are easier to work with,” Thunder said, when this was pointed out. “The people who want those will give you specifics and are usually great at communication.”

Fascinating.

Thunder also had a host of tales about past clients, terrible and decent. He delivered the stories with clear enthusiasm, taking joy in the simple act of sharing. In fact, that was the thing about Thunder that Abraham came to love the most. Thunder was just a happy guy. He liked doing things. It didn’t matter what it was. Nothing was ever a chore.

Abraham fed a squirrel for the first time. He had never gotten so close to one before and was in awe of its bottomless black eyes. He must have stared for too long, because the creature bit him on the thumb after taking its treat, then fled up the nearest tree.

Thunder kissed the bite, assured him he probably wouldn’t die of rabies, and treated him to sex to take his mind off it, right there in the middle of the park. And it worked. Abraham couldn’t focus at all on the squirrel bite when there was a twig jammed into his spine.

Thunder completed another job over the course of those weeks. He said it would be easy and it was, leaving him plenty of free time to talk. The pay wasn’t as good as it could have been, but he also said it was better than nothing.

That job was online. While Thunder was working on that, he was also searching for one located in the city. From what Abraham knew, he had applied to one and had received a response that there was a high amount of responses, and to please be patient while they considered all the applicants carefully to see who would be the best fit for them.

“Doesn’t that usually mean they’re faking it?” Abraham asked one night towards the end of the second week. They had just finished dinner and were spending their usual time together before retiring to bed. They had already fallen into a routine and Abraham didn’t mind at all, even if it meant he was going to bed hours earlier than he usually did. Thunder always rose early whether he had to or not, which was something else to get used to. Abraham often lounged in bed long after he should have, wasting hours. He no longer wanted to waste those hours, cherishing them because it meant he got to spend them with Thunder.

Thunder looked over at him, smiling. He smiled even when there was nothing to smile about, and it always made Abraham feel lighter. “What?”

“When companies say it’s going to take a while to get back to you. Doesn’t that mean they already picked someone out and just want to seem fair?”

Thunder smiled some more. He set down the book he was reading, keeping it open with his knee between the pages. “Sometimes. But this place is PMA. Pensacola Marketing Associates Inc. I’ve done some research on them and from what I can tell, they’re true to their word and have so far acted on every promise they’ve made. They’ve got quite the positive image, which is significant, considering they’re the largest company of the kind in the city. I’ll believe them when they say they’ll look at everyone as equally as they can.”

“Geez. You already sound like you’re working there.”

Thunder winked. “That’s the plan.”

Abraham laughed. He went back to watching TV, and Thunder went back to reading. They cuddled together until it was time for bed.

In the morning, Abraham woke up knowing what he needed to do. Thunder looked at him over their breakfast of eggs and sausage. “You look determined today,” he commented.

Abraham reached to the middle of the table and grabbed the salsa jar. He had recently been introduced to salsa on eggs and he had been demanding it for breakfast ever since, which Thunder was only too happy to oblige with. “I was stuck on something for a little while, but now I know what I need to do about it. Do you mind if I head out on my own for a bit today?”

Thunder leaned across the little table and swiped the jar of salsa. “Geez. I might as well just give this to you with a straw for breakfast.”

“Blend it up a little so it goes up the straw easy.”

Thunder wrinkled his nose with distaste. “Probably be better for you than some of these protein shakes that are on the market. Anyway, of course I don’t mind. You don’t even have to tell me where you’re going. Just because we’re together doesn’t mean we have to be joined at the hip, although I am a fan of the idea.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you all about it afterwards.”

“That’s fine with me.”

They finished breakfast in the same manner as they had over the past week, and then they headed outside together.

“Need a lift to wherever you’re going?”

Abraham considered it for a moment, then pushed the idea out of his mind. The last thing he wanted to do was show up at his destination in a hideous yellow car. “I’ll walk. It’s a nice day, anyway.”

“Low humidity in the forecast,” Thunder agreed. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Abraham’s head.

In response, Abraham tilted his head up and caught Thunder’s lips with his. His stomach tingled and his dick gave a low throb, stirring around with the desire that was never far away these days.

When they parted their kiss, Abraham said, “I should probably see about getting my bike fixed one of these days.”

“When you get a job is soon enough. I don’t mind taking you anywhere you want to go until then.”

They kissed again and then parted, with Thunder giving him a pat on the ass as he went. Abraham walked around the apartment building and found the sidewalk alongside the street, and started to follow it.

He was going to leave the gang today. His mind was made up. Thunder had made several references to them being together, and that one this morning was just further proof that they had long since surpassed the place where they last left off. They were together. Boyfriends. They were going to be together for a long time and that was what he wanted.

Even the thought of getting a job no longer bothered him like it once had. Getting one would help cement their future together.

There would be no room for the gang in his life from this point on. He would tell them he’d found something better. And if things got ugly, he was a wolf. He could handle it.

His spirits were high as he reached the hangout spot which had been their favorite for the past few months: an empty Wendy’s building which had been stripped of all decorations and identification. An ancient sign out front claimed the opening was soon, though some of the letters were missing and the others all canted sideways. No one knew why the restaurant had moved in, then moved out, or why no one else had taken over the building afterwards.

These days, no one wanted the place because it was wrecked on the inside. Locations like this were prime territory for people like Abraham and the gang, who were always on the lookout for somewhere they could call their own. Sheltered from the eyes of the outside world, they could do anything they wanted in here.

It was a home for rats, stray cats, the homeless. It was a sanctuary for addicts, who wanted a private place to shoot up. It was a convenient stop for teenagers who wanted a quickie before heading home to their parents.

Abraham went in through the side door, near the empty, discolored patch of ground where the menu had once been. Familiar sights and smells greeted him and he relaxed without really being aware of it, even though the greeting wasn’t exactly pleasant. The smell hanging in the atmosphere was a combination of chemicals, alcohol, body odor, and human waste, and cat piss, and the strange raisin-like odor of rodent shit.

The walls were covered in a mixture of graffiti and holes, where bats and guns and fists had taken their toll. The ceiling had collapsed onto the floor in some places, exposing rafters and wires. The enormous shadow of a rat passed over him as one of the rodents scurried along the length of a support beam overhead.

Broken pieces of furniture and machines cluttered the floor even further. Near the walls and in the corners, there were sleeping mats, clusters of glass bottles, discarded needles.

He felt like he was coming home.

This isn’t where I belong anymore.

Squaring his shoulders against the familiarity of the setting, he went deeper into the abandoned restaurant and pushed his way through the double-doors to get to the back. He didn’t know of any other fast food restaurant, Wendy’s or otherwise, that had doors like these. Normally, you could see straight into the kitchen from the front counter. Maybe it was going to be some sort of trial thing, until the place closed down before it ever opened.

All Abraham knew was that he was impressed these doors were still on their hinges, even if they were rusty and stiff by now.

The back was more spacious than in the average fast food restaurant, and that was because anything which had once made it a restaurant had been removed. Where the ovens, fryers, stoves, and counters should have been, there was nothing. No piece of equipment remained except for what had been brought here by the people who arrived afterwards. As a result, there was plenty of room for the gang to spread out.

Spread out they had. They were all here. All of them. Members were allowed to come and go as they pleased, as long as they remembered where they belonged and who they had sworn fealty to. It wasn’t unusual to go days, even weeks, without seeing someone in particular. When they showed up again, they were always welcomed back with open arms.

I hope I’ll get the same treatment.

Because of the constant coming and going, it was difficult to tell how many people there actually were in the gang. Even now, with all of them gathered in one place, the distance they had put between themselves and others made it hard to get a proper estimate. Twenty or thirty, perhaps.

Abraham had never encountered more than seven or so at a time. Everything about this gathering seemed off to him. The whole point of being in a gang was to cause trouble without being caught. The smaller the amount of people involved, the better.

As he surveyed them, the gang surveyed him back. He almost shivered under the combined force of their gazes on him, then caught himself just in time. He couldn’t show weakness, especially not when no one here seemed happy to see him. Every gaze was sharp and intense, or disinterred and bored, or just outright hostile. They seemed to be challenging his right to be here, daring him to explain what he was doing on their turf.

Even Barry, over there in the corner near the entrance to the empty walk-in freezer, glared at him like he was a stranger.

No one moved. Abraham felt like a sheep that had walked into a lion’s den. His heart trembled, his pulse throbbing in his neck.

Suddenly, someone emerged from the freezer, standing as tall and proud as a prince. Damien, wearing his usual sleeveless green shirt and ripped jeans. He owned several pairs of each, for some reason. The gauges in his ears had gone up a size, and his earlobes seemed pink and irritated.

Damien turned his head without moving the rest of his body, glaring hard in Abraham’s direction. “Abe,” he said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’ve got every right to be here, same as you,” Abraham threw back. He winced inwardly. Every hint he gave that he was here as a normal member was coming to come back and bite him in the ass. “Or did you decide that I’m not welcome anymore?

Damien pivoted around and approached Abraham with his head tilted. His eyes flashed dangerously, and then he smiled. It was a shark’s grin, all teeth and no warmth. “You’re always welcome here. Don’t worry about that. I was just curious, seeing as how you’ve been almost avoiding us.”

“Other people can leave and come back, but I can’t?”

Damien shrugged. “Maybe I don’t trust you as much as I trust them. You know, it’s about time that you learn you can’t live with your feet in both worlds forever. You can’t be one of us, but not one of us. You’re all-in, or you’re nothing at all.”

“Then, I’m out.”

Damien opened his mouth and then paused. This clearly wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. The other gang members shifted around, exchanging glances. A few of them stood up. Hands strayed to pockets.

Having finally gotten ahold of himself, Damien said, “What?”

“You said I can’t have a foot in both worlds. So, that’s it. That’s my choice. I’m out. No more of this for me. Sorry to let you down, but I’ve kind of discovered a life that I like more than this one. So, I’m done. That’s what I came here to say.”

Damien’s eyes narrowed. He curled his lip and Abraham braced himself, letting the wolf inside him come right up to just beneath the surface. Then, suddenly, Damien laughed. “Fine. You’re done. I bet it’s because of that someone you needed ice cream money for.”

“Yeah. I love them. I want to have a life with them.” It felt so good to say it out loud, like his entire life had been building to this moment.

“Why not bring them to us?” someone in the crowd suggested. Abraham didn’t know exactly who said it, because there was no way in hell he was going to take his eyes off Damien.

Although Damien seemed displeased about having someone else give voice to the query before he could, he seemed to get over it quickly enough. Abraham felt a sudden pulse of fear and sympathy for the person who had spoken out of turn. Damien’s acceptance was only a charade. On the inside, he was already planning something to remind that person who was in charge here.

“That’s a good idea,” Damien said breezily. “Introduce us. We’ll accept them. We’ll be one big happy family, and that would solve all the problems.”

The idea of Thunder being in a gang of any sort was laughable. He might look fearsome and terrifying, big enough to do some massive damage if he got angry enough, but the fact of the matter was that he was a peace-loving soul, a teddy bear of a man. He would never join a gang, would never vandalize or steal or hurt anyone.

Abraham shook his head. “Sorry. Just not going to work. I would rather be with them than have them be here.”

“Sounds like someone isn’t really appreciating what they have,” Damien growled. “We’ve given you everything.”

“And I’ll never forget it, but I have to move on.”

“Damn right you won’t forget it.”

Abraham braced himself for the attack, but it didn’t come. Damien just sighed and placed his hands on his hips. He shook his head, a very dramatic gesture. “It’s a shame. You’re ending your career before it’s even really begun. You could have been great. Now we’ll never know.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It happens.”

I don’t like the sound of that.

Damien straightened up, standing tall. “I told you before that things had been happening. Well, I guess now you’re finally going to get to find out what those things are. Everyone who was there in the alleys that day has been replaced, except for Barry. And now you, I suppose. I had to go out and find us some new recruits. They are working out just fine, but just fine isn’t good enough for me. I want us to be one big happy family, united by blood and mischief.

“I was planning a large hit. I’ve been amassing quite the arsenal of supplies for it, and it’s going to be our crowning achievement. It’s going to bring us all together. And now, I suppose, it will be our send-off for you. What do you say? One last big hit. One last run together.”

Abraham hesitated. He should say no. He needed to say no. He had come here to put a stop to everything, not to get involved in something so big that Damien created an arsenal for it. He needed to make a clean cut, so he could go home, tell Thunder everything, and then put all of this behind him. He wanted to start tomorrow as a new man, one free of any ties to bad people.

On the other hand, there was a certain poeticism to the situation that felt right. He could go out with a bang. Like an alcoholic having one last drink before going to AA, like a gambler swearing this was going to be his last night at a casino, he could have these memories to hold him over if the temptation got too bad in the future.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know that those tactics never work.

“I’m in,” he said. “When are we going to do it?”

“Now.”

His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of surprise and excitement. “Now? Why now?”

“Because we were nearly ready anyway. And you came here to say goodbye.” Damien’s eyes flashed. “If we let you walk away from here, would you really come back in a couple days?”

I wouldn’t.

Damien must have seen the answer in his eyes because he nodded. “That’s what I thought. So, come on, Abe. You get first pick and I’ll fill you in on the plans.”

Really, how bad could this be? He had been part of hits like this before. In and out. That was all there was to it. He’d be home to Thunder before he knew it.

Nodding to himself, Abraham followed Damien back into the freezer. What he saw there completely changed his prior thoughts.

Damien had been correct when he called this an arsenal. It was an armory of vandalism, a collection of objects which the general public rightly associated with gang members.

There were dozens of spray paint cans in neon-bright colors. There were bats, some of which were naked and others decorated, wrapped with barbed wire, studded with nails and broken glass. There were knives. There were containers of salt, cartons of eggs, bottles of glue, and endless other things. Everything which could cause damage to a property had been represented here.

The gang member inside Abraham marveled at the collection. They were going to cause some serious hell with all this. The place or places Damien had in mind were going to regret their very existence. He was ready, so ready to do this.

Another part of himself, which had previously been a small part, caused his stomach to roil bitterly. He shouldn’t do this. It was wrong. Thunder would not approve.

Thunder’s approval had become very important to him. The alpha treated him like an equal. An equal he loved to pamper and take care of, but an equal all the same. Abraham had started to feel like their age gap didn’t matter.

Standing here before this freezer filled with weapons, Abraham felt split in two. There was the part of himself which realized he had grown up a lot in the past couple of days. The act of destruction, the gang’s fervor for it, seemed childish in comparison to his own desires to move on and live a better, fulfilling life.

At the same time, he felt like he hadn’t changed at all, and maybe that was because Thunder wasn’t here.

Shivering a little, Abraham turned to look at Damien. Damien grinned back at him. “You ready for this shit?”

Abraham opened his mouth and sealed his fate. “Fuck yeah.”

Damien clapped him on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about! Go on. Pick your weapons.”

“How far are we going to go?”

“Pretty fucking far. We’re going up north. Past the college.”

Despite himself, Abraham’s interest skyrocketed. Pensacola was filled with quite a lot of interesting locations, but there was no question that the places up at the north of the city could use a reality check, especially the ones inland, away from the beaches. There were a ton of fussy little estates filled with proper people who made too much money. If you drove by in a car that was more than two years old, anyone who was outside would stare until you passed. The pet of choice was horses, and they had the money to spare to pay someone to take care of the horses for them. They had money to get someone to take care of every aspect of their lives, whether it was cooking, cleaning, expenses, or their huge lawns.

Some of the remaining concerns Abraham had about what they were about to do melted away.

“We taking a vehicle?”

“Damn right. Got about four of ‘em parked a few streets over. As soon as we’re ready, I’m going to send for them.”

Walking would be very obvious, especially when they were all laden down with weapons and spray paint. Taking some vehicles would get rid of that. Damien really had all of this figured out.

One last time and then I’m done, Abraham said to himself while picking through the items. He tucked lighters and a bottle of glue in his pockets, and then he reached for a bat. Hesitation struck through him and he quickly acted as though he had been reaching for the spray paint the entire time. He grabbed a few cans and tucked them down the front of his pants.

“You’re going for the classics, huh?”

“I’ve got some interesting things I want to draw with these,” he lied. The truth was that he felt like paint would fare better in Thunder’s eyes than a bat would.

“Fuck yeah. I can always count on you for creativity. Now, move your ass over so I can let everyone else in.”

Abraham slid over to the side of the freezer while the rest of the gang entered and picked over the amassed equipment, eagerly latching onto their favorites. Small fights broke out whenever two people grabbed the same object, though a quick flash of Damien’s favorite knife always put a stop to that.

Watching this, watching his fellow gang members hold their weapons of destruction so proudly, Abraham felt that twisted, two-sided sense of sickness and excitement again.

“Hey, fucker.”

He turned.

Barry stood at his side. He looked ridiculous. He’d always been annoyingly overzealous about stuff like this, to the point where even Damien kept telling him to cut it out. Right now, his pockets bulged with eggs. When he moved, glass bottles and spray paint canisters clinked together. He had a bat in one hand, a naked one.

And in one ear, there was a gauge. It was the same color and style as Damien’s.

“Hey,” Abraham said. “Glad to see you’re okay.” He meant it, too. He really had been worried about everyone in the aftermath of that confrontation in the alleys, even if he’d also been occupied with other things at the time.

“I’m more than okay. I’m fucking alive. You see this?” Barry pointed at his ear with the hand that held the bat and nearly knocked himself upside the face with it. “It means I belong to Damien. He’s going to make me his second-in-command because I was the only one who didn’t go all pussy on him.”

More likely, Damien was going to use Barry as a punching bag and a scapegoat, but if Barry was fine with being owned, Abraham had no say in it. “That’s cool. A promotion. Do you know what happened to John?”

John had just never been right for the life.

“I think he’s still working that shitty Walmart job of his.” Barry shrugged. “I know Damien paid him a visit, but I’m pretty sure he’s still alive.”

When all of this was over, Abraham would pay John a visit. Maybe, without the pressure of the gang, they could be friends.

“Enough about that fuck,” Barry said. “He didn’t have it in him. No big loss. But you, man? I didn’t think you were chicken.”

“I’m not. I’ve just got someone to think about other than myself, now.”

“Yeah?” Barry shrugged. “Well, you still got until this is over to change your mind. Don’t forget who loved you first.” Barry reached out and placed a carton of cigarettes in Abraham’s hand. “Consider that a parting gift. And if you decide to stay, I want them back. They’re the good shit.”

The cigs weren’t exactly the most expensive, but they were decent as far as quality went. Abraham tucked them into his pocket, along with everything else he was carrying. Something prickled behind his eyes, a gratitude that wasn’t quite tears. “Thanks, Barry.”

Like all men who weren’t confident in themselves, compliments and being thanked made Barry uncomfortable. He shrugged and moved away, shoving back into the midst of the group so he could pick through what remained of the rest of the items to see if he had missed anything useful.

Don’t forget who loved me first.

Abraham stayed where he was, standing off to the side while everyone else sorted everything out. Barry thought he knew what he was talking about, implying that the gang members were the first people to accept Abraham for who he was.

That wasn’t true, not even in the vaguest sense, especially since this was not who he was at all.

Thunder had loved him before the gang did.

And before Thunder loved him, Cain had.

One of these days, I need to talk to him. Let him know he’s right and I’m sorry it took me so long to see things that way.

Someone tapped Abraham on the shoulder. He wasn’t surprised at all to see Damien standing there, looking like a warrior about to head into battle. He held a bat studded with shards of glass, and his pockets were brimming. As he was the master of being unassumingly dangerous, Abraham had no doubt the gang leader had tons of other items stowed away in various places across his body.

“You ready to go out with a bang?”

“Let’s do it.” And get it over with.

Damien stepped into the crowd and everyone backed away to watch him, their eyes wary and bright. “Tony. Miguel. Marco. And… Blake. Go get the vehicles. You know the drill.”

The four gang members pulled away from the rest of the crowd, and Abraham leaned against the wall to wait because this part was going to take a while.

As unassuming as Damien was at first sight, anyone who crossed paths with him would quickly learn he was far more than he first appeared. Vicious, charming, dangerous, and much too smart for his own good. He planned these trips like an army general.

The gang members would leave the building all at separate times. They would get to the vehicles and drive up, putting lengthy gaps between their arrivals, while also coming to different entrances. This pattern of pretending to not be connected would continue all through the drive, with the various vehicles taking different routes to get to the same place.

Communication would take place by way of text. Once everyone was in position, the signal would be given and the attack would begin.

Hopefully, they could get in and out before anyone even noticed they were there.

The first car arrived. Damien always got in the first car, along with the members he trusted the most. They started to follow him out from the freezer, and Barry got up to join them, since he was now training to be Damien’s so-called second-in-command.

Damien held out his hand, stopping Barry. “Not you. This is Abe’s special treat, so he gets to ride with me.”

Abraham shook his head. He didn’t relish the idea of sitting in the car with these men he hardly knew. Damien’s most-trusted tended to come and go a lot, and he hadn’t spent much time with any of them. “That’s okay.”

“No,” Damien said. “I insist.” His tone of voice brooked no argument. Abraham could do nothing but follow along as well.

I bet Barry’s regretting giving me these cigs.

The first car was an older van, though it had been washed recently and gleamed silver in the sun. Damien took the remaining front seat, and everyone else piled into the back. Abraham found himself squashed in the very back row between two of the others, both of whom were bigger than him. One smelled overwhelmingly of Axe body spray, though that offense was less than the reek of old sweat coming from the other.

The car got moving.

All Abraham could do was stare straight ahead, trying to see where they were going by way of what was visible to him through the windshield. He didn’t want to look to either side, not wanting to accidentally make eye contact with the men sitting beside him. In the end, it probably wouldn’t have mattered very much. He couldn’t really see anything either way. The only thing he could rely on was the feel of the many turns the van was taking, and he knew those weren’t reliable because the driver was making sure they didn’t go directly to their destination.

After nearly 45 minutes, during which Abraham was able to learn far too much about the thighs of the men pressed in against him, the van finally slowed down, then stopped.

“Everyone out,” Damien said, his voice low. “Abraham, you’re with me. Everyone else, I don’t care what you do as long as you don’t get yourselves noticed while doing it.”

He said nothing about the destination, or what the plan was from here. Apparently, everyone else already knew about it. Abraham felt a pang of jealousy in his stomach, and he had a harder time pushing the feeling away than he would have liked. He hadn’t been included, so what? This was the last time he would be doing anything like this, so it didn’t matter.

Everyone got out of the van, except for the driver, who moved away as soon as his vehicle was empty. He would be lingering somewhere nearby, waiting to be called upon again.

Abraham took a quick look around.

They were standing near a long, wide, quiet road, which was framed with trees on either side. There were a few houses with moderately-sized yards, but most of the buildings here seemed to be businesses. Nothing was in the best condition, especially not the road itself, and the streets which led away from this one seemed to lead to more houses.

If he wasn’t mistaken, this area was somewhat outside the nicer neighborhoods, probably stretching right up to the noisy interstate a little further north.

“Stay close, Abe.” Damien took off at a brisk jog, sauntering down the empty sidewalk with his bat held close to his leg, hiding it from view of the street. Abraham followed along behind, the clinking and rattling of the spray cans shoved down his pants a little too loud for his comfort. He felt as if everyone in the world would be able to hear them.

Suddenly, Damien veered off across the road. Abraham kept following, keeping up easily even though his blood was starting to race through his veins. No cars were approaching from a direction where anyone would be able to see Damien’s hidden weapon, but Abraham blocked the view of it with his body anyway and received a nod of approval for it.

“Here’s the plan,” Damien said, marching down one of the residential roads Abraham had taken note of earlier. “End goal is to move into one of these nearby fancy places and give them hell, but we’re going to start here to really freak them out. They can watch us descend on them. For today, we’re going to get this marketing place or whatever. I don’t really know what it is, but it’s pretentious and shitty and we gotta do something about it.

“You and I are going to come at it from the back. We’ll follow this road, work our way around, and get right up behind the place. It’s closed to the public today, but I bet they’ve got some prissy security guards, some workers in there doing overtime. If they notice us, no big deal. Got it?”

“Got it,” Abraham confirmed.

“Good. We’ll get to work when the second car arrives, and we’ll get out of here when the last one comes. Gotta get in place first, though.”

They continued on, the only sound between them the rapid rhythm of their footsteps. The road was narrow and there were quite a lot of trees everywhere, making it nearly impossible to see other streets. In fact, in some places, it was difficult to even see the houses. The only way to know where one was, was to look for the fences. Every single house had a fence, whether it was a white picket or chain link. These people were evidently not very big on sharing.

The sky overhead was filled with clouds, which was unusual for the city. That, combined with the cramped, overgrown neighborhood, made Abraham shiver. Something felt wrong. There was a feeling in the air, an omen, a sense of danger.

“Look,” Damien grunted. “Chicken coop.”

Abraham looked where the other man was pointing and saw an honest-to-god chicken coop in one of the yards. A few speckled brown-and-white hens roamed around, scraping at the grass, strutting, pecking up bugs and bits of seed. These were like no other chickens he had ever seen. They were extremely fluffy, seeming to have hair rather than feathers, which poofed out around their heads and tails. How they could see, he had no idea.

Damien reached into his pocket and pulled out a fucking cherry bomb. “I know you got a lighter on you. Hand it over.”

Abraham grabbed Damien’s wrist. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Damien stared at him, and Abraham read the fury in his eyes. This was the first time he had ever touched the other man in this way and it was clear that it was not going to go well at all.

Damien wrenched his hand around, grabbed Abraham’s wrist in his, and twisted.

Pain shot up Abraham’s arm and he clenched his teeth on a cry of pain. There was nothing he could do but drop to his knees as Damien kept twisting and twisting, contorting his arm into a position where it seemed like the slightest movement would cause his arm to pop out of its socket.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Damien snarled.

“Sorry!”

Damien pressed something and the pain reached a bursting crescendo much like one of those cherry bombs would. Then, he let go and Abraham could have cried from the relief as he pulled his arm against his chest, cradling it.

“Give me a lighter.”

“No.”

“Give me…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Abraham said. He lurched up to his feet and stared at Damien. “Are you literally insane? Why would you do that?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

This didn’t much look like a farming community to Abraham. He would be surprised if those chickens gave eggs. Food seemed not to be the end goal here. However, that didn’t matter to him. Stealing or killing pets was even worse in his eyes than taking physical money.

“Because that explosion will let everyone know that something’s going on. We might be seen. Worse, the cops’ll probably get called. Do we really want them in the area right now?”

Damien frowned. He shook his head. “I didn’t think about that.”

What the hell just happened?

Only a few minutes ago, he had been thinking about how Damien was smart, and he planned these so thoroughly, and here he had nearly, literally, blown the plan to pieces.

Was this sudden urge for violence, this inability to think properly, how the rest of the world saw them?

Was this what Abraham had in his future if he didn’t end things here and now? Would he wind up breaking his own morals if he stayed in this life long enough?

They got moving again and arrived at the place without any further incidents, though Abraham kept more room between himself and Damien. He didn’t want to deal with this anymore. He just wanted to go home.

They crouched in a stand of trees only a short run’s distance from the rear of the building they were targeting. The back was brick-red and featureless, lacking any decorations or designs. There were at least three stories’ worth of office windows.

The parking lot was completely empty, at least what could be seen from behind. Damien had been right about the place being closed.

“Hey.”

His insides trembled at the sound of Damien’s voice. “Yes?” he whispered, responding right away because he didn’t want to aggravate the other man by doing anything else wrong.

“You’ve got some real smarts. Some intuition. How would you like to be my second-in-command, instead of Barry?”

Abraham stared. “What?”

Damien nodded, grinning a little. “You want the spot, it’s yours. Barry’s got a taste for blood but he’s too eager. Not smart enough. You, you’re smart. We’d make a good team and who knows? When I die, you’ll be the leader.”

The world seemed to spin around Abraham as he thought about the offer being made here. It was unusual for omegas to be second at anything, and downright rare for them to be first. Sometimes they were leaders, but usually, it was an alpha in that position.

Usually, it was alphas in all the positions.

His older brother, Cain, was a second-in-command. If Abraham agreed to this, he would be as good as Cain. Someday, he might be even more powerful than that.

But, if that was what he wanted, it would mean going back on everything he had set out to do today. He would really not be able to live with a foot in each world. He couldn’t keep this from Thunder, nor would he be able to fully give Thunder his everything if he kept swearing some part of himself to the gang.

“I appreciate the offer,” Abraham whispered. “But, no. It should be Barry.”

Damien opened his mouth to reply, perhaps to make an offer Abraham couldn’t refuse, one which involved a lot of threats and dark promises. Then, he reached down and grabbed at one of his many pockets and pulled out his phone. He frowned at it, then put it back down.

“They’re almost here. Count to 30 and then go for it.”

Damien moved away, slinking silently through the trees to get what he must perceive to be a better position.

Abraham watched him go. He could slip away. Shift. Run. Refuse to take part in this. But, if he did that, the truth was that the gang might be suspicious of him and come after him. He would be putting Thunder in danger if he didn’t see this to the end.

His stomach churned and he tasted hot bile at the back of his throat. Suddenly, Damien emerged from the trees and went towards the building. 30 seconds must have passed.

Abraham stood up and stepped out onto the parking lot. As he did so, he realized there was something different about Damien. He was wearing a bandana, wrapped around his face to disguise his features.

There were cameras here.

“Fuck,” Abraham whispered, and lurched back into the cover of the trees. As he took shelter in the undergrowth, he saw a red bandana lying on the ground right next to where both of them had been crouching. Damien must have placed it there before he left and he just hadn’t noticed.

That had been a very, very close call.

Abraham wrapped the bandana around his face, his heart pounding with fear. Damien had seen him start to come out. He would be expecting Abraham out there with everyone else, who were now emerging from their various hiding places, brandishing their instruments of defacement.

He had to do this.

Pulling in a deep breath, Abraham tied the bandana in the back and crossed the parking lot for real this time. Everyone was hiding their face in some manner. Bandanas, ski masks, hoods, and beanies and baseball hats were all present, obscuring features, casting them in shadow.

Baseball bats sailed through the air, smashing down hard on windows, sending bursts of broken glass inside offices. They knocked against the walls, the stairwell leading up to a second floor door on the perpendicular side of the building. Spray paint cans hissed, and jets of color shot through the air, marking up the parking spots, the trees, the walls. Eggs splattered on the roof, were thrown through the broken windows. Some gang members climbed in through the windows, and the distinctive squawking sound of squeezed glue bottles echoed back outside.

Someone climbed onto the roof and took their bat to it.

It was a literal war zone.

Abraham stood, his feet glued to the concrete even as someone wove past him, spraying his shoes as well as the ground. These were not humans he was watching. They were worse than animals, their faces twisted into primal expressions of joyous rage as they destroyed something which did not belong to them.

Someone shoved into him from behind and he got moving. He dropped his lighters as he retrieved the bottles of glue and pretended not to notice. He glued the window frames shut, glued the latches in place, knowing this was a wasted effort because the glass was already smashed.

He emptied out his spray paint cans on the grass, creating puddles of chemical-purple and nuclear-waste green.

Then, he was empty. He had done the least amount of damage possible, not that it made a difference in the grand scheme of things.

The last group of vandalizers arrived, and that was the cue for the first group to leave.

Abraham found Damien in the chaos. His hands were sliced up from his own weapon. He was covered in splotches of paint, splashes of egg yolk, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “How the fuck can you give all this up?”

Staring down at his blue-stained shoes throughout the entire ride back to the hideout, Abraham thought it would be real damn easy.