Gabe’s face was forced right up against the chain link, making the flesh of his cheek crush into his teeth and bleed.

“I’m going to beat the pretty right off you.” a deep grating voice told him.

“I get that a lot.” He replied through a stiff jaw. The guy was enormous, beefed up on protein shakes and steroids in all the ways Gabe was not. Through his one un-squinched eye, he could see the blue veins stand out like string under the tanned and bruised skin of his attacker’s hand.

“Do you bite your nails? That’s a filthy habit.” He added.

In the moment that his opponent used to draw back so he could slam Gabe’s face back into the fence, Gabe had enough space to maneuver his smaller frame out by scraping his cheek along the fence downwards. From a slightly crouched position, he bunched the muscles in his legs and launched his head backward blindly. He was accurate though. The back of his skull connected with a hard bone that Gabe hoped was the protruding jaw of the gorilla he was fighting. The impact shuddered through him but did its job. Ignoring the white-hot pain lancing through his skull, he whipped around and kicked him in the chest, knocking the gorilla on his back. The crowd around roared, but Gabe didn’t hear it.

“Hey knuckle-dragger, didn’t you eat your cereal this morning?” he called laughingly, then spitting a wad of blood on the ground.

He regretted it when the guy whipped up again and came at him full force. Gabe knew it was over when he was hit so hard in the solar plexus his legs turned to jelly.

Someday, he would learn not to run his mouth.

After, He was dragged out unceremoniously and left at the edge of the crowd to crawl his way to his corner. He didn’t often lose, but he had been going up against stronger and bigger opponents lately to keep up the challenge. He wasn’t interested in being some sort of expert fighter, he just wanted to feel like he was fighting for something. Not just going through the motions.

He coughed up a large wad of phlegm and blood, before hocking it to the ground beside the upturned drum he called a trashcan. He fished a pack of disinfectant wipes from his bag and started to clean his face. He realised then that he had torn his left ear from its base slightly, probably when he had dragged his face across the fence. He winced slightly, but it wasn’t a huge cut, no stitches required. The rest was fairly standard, superficial stuff.

He wiped at his hands when he heard a thin, reedy voice cackle.

“Well, lookie here, if it ain't Princess Pretty.”

Gabe looked up, and saw with his good eye the familiar hulking form of Etienne.

“No way!” he exclaimed, inordinately pleased to see him. “Tell me I’m not having a hemorrhage induced hallucination.”

“That guy hit you hard enough. Any reason why you’re deliberately fighting people who can wipe the floor with your pansy ass?” Etienne smirked at him, smiling his gap-toothed smile.

Gabe wasn’t about to hug him or anything, but he couldn’t stop smiling, genuinely glad to see his prison buddy. “He challenged my prettiness, I couldn’t let that slide.”

“People still trying to do that?”

Gabe gestured to his face ruefully. “Not for long.”

“Aw, don’t worry. Now you’re as ugly as me.”

“No one in the world is as ugly as you.”

Etienne sucked at the gap in his teeth. “That hurts.”

“You’ll live.” Gabe stood to toss his wipes in a trash can before picking up his bag. “What are you doing here? Finally serve your time?”

Etienne scratched at his chest. Observing more closely now, he saw Etienne was wearing denim pants and a shirt, with a huge duffle coat over his shoulders. He still somehow made it look like a prison uniform. Etienne was born to be an inmate. “Well, you know. I just do what I’m told.”

Gabe smiled faltered. He didn’t want to go into the shit-fuckery that was their business with Xero. Instead, he clapped a hand to Etienne's huge shoulder.

“You get my gumdrops?” he said, changing the subject.

Etienne’s grin was genuine. “Every Monday, you mother fucker. You know some people thought you were pining for me?”

Gabe couldn’t stop the disgusted look that crossed his face, making Etienne wheeze a harsh laugh. “Don’t you want a kiss then?”

Gabe rolled his eyes, ignoring the jest. “Come on, let’s get some coffee and scare the waitress.”

-8-

“So Etienne is here to replace me?” Gabe asked Xero, a tad mulish.

They were sitting at the short, pink Formica counter at a Dunkin’ Donuts, while Gabe made his way around two extra-large, frosted donuts with sprinkles and Mr.Xero drank a coffee, black.

They made an incongruous scene, the kind Gabe enjoyed. He, a scarred, beaten up blond twenty-something wearing faded jeans and a leather jacket that had seen better days. Mr. Xero, never wearing anything but an expensive suit of one dark shade or another. Today her sported navy blue with tiny diamonds in the cufflinks winking at passers-by. He was also drinking from a Styrofoam cup, which Gabe found so out of place it almost seemed sacrilegious.

Gabe watched him from the corner of his eye. His dark hair had small hints of silver in them, and his face was still a charcoal drawing, all edges and lines, starkly handsome in the washed out morning light. His blue eyes gazed into an unseen distance as he sipped at the Styrofoam, and Gabe tried in vain to swallow his irritation. He just wanted to break that cool…

“Indeed,” Xero affirmed.

Gabe huffed. “My work was not good enough?”

“If you mean, is the way you stand there flexing your muscles, showing off your bruises and mouthing off at clients not good enough, then I suppose the answer is ‘yes’.” Xero took another sip of his coffee, then slanted a sly smile at Gabe. “Are you pouting?”

Gabe glared and took a large bite of his donut. “No. But what am I supposed to do now, just sit around on my well-toned ass?”

Xero smirked, all coyness and lies, like the devil he was. “It just so happens I do have a job for you. One that I feel you’re ready enough to do.”

“Oh lordy me, I feel special. Donuts and praise all in one sitting.”

Xero flicked his fingers at nothing, the only sign that he found Gabe’s attitude tiresome. “Do you need a moment to finish your tantrum?”

Gabe had inhaled the last donut and was now pressing the crumbs into his fingers and eating them. “Apologies. Tell me what you want, Xero.”

There was an infinitesimal pause that Gabe felt rather than saw. He hadn’t meant to say it that way, but the reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“There is a lower tier of my organization,” Xero went on smoothly. “Deals done with people of a more humble caliber. I would like you to take over a certain quarter of Grace city, under my name.”

Gabe stared back in surprise. This was unexpected.

“I thought I was just a knife.”

Xero gazed at him assessing. “There are many ways to be sharp. Can you do it?”

It had been several months that Gabe had been following Xero around to his meetings. He always watched, always absorbed. In every aftermath, he and Xero picked the seams of the encounters, dethreading the clever outfits and masquerades to see the intention underneath. It hadn’t occurred to him that Xero was testing him, grooming him.

“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to mouth off?” Gabe leveled at him.

“The kind of people you’ll be dealing with, Gabe, are the kind who understand things better when delivered roughly, as you have the knack for,” Xero told him wryly.

Gabe felt around his mouth for any stray glaze. “Well, it sounds like an intriguing proposition. What are the rules? Can I hit someone?”

If it was too low-class, Xero might have rolled his eyes. Instead, he sighed. “Try not to. But you make the rules. You know how I run things, you know my terms. Manage it as you see fit.”

Gabe was taken aback. This was more than just employment, this was…trust.

“Why are you giving me this?” he asked, voice unexpectedly quiet. He risked a glance at Xero, who was watching him.

“Maybe I want you to stop beating your head against other people’s fists. Maybe I want to encourage you to become more than just a blunt instrument.” He said flatly.

Gabe capped the knee-jerk reaction of anger. “So kind of you. But is that why?”

Xero, swirled the last of his coffee absently. “I suppose you’ve earned it.” he said, before setting the cup down and getting up, effectively ending the conversation. Gabe couldn’t tell him he hadn’t been trying to earn anything, but nonetheless, the trust given to him made him feel…different.

“Gabe.” Xero said from the door, impatient.

“Coming honey.” Gabe quipped, pushing himself away from the counter and following.