Thread: (Dead)

Re The Gang closed In the living room of the beach house, the three men sat around watching the TV--an old beat up 20. One man was cleaning his gun on the coffee table and another was smoking. Keith stood staring off into space, not really watching the TV. When Creasy walked into the room, he looked up surprised that the other man had left her so soon. How'd it go? Keith asked as he came over to his leader. Did she tell you anything? Creasy decided it best to ignore the man's question for now. Marley's gang is looking to join us with the crystal meth operation, he said. Seems he can get into the gay clubs better than we can and it's where the demand is highest for it. Creasy fished through the girl's wallet and took out all the cash that was in it, haning it to the smaller man. I want you to go out and buy some clothes for the girl tonight. Some nice things for her to wear. Also, get some books for her to read. Realizing what he'd given the man might not be enough, he got a roll of bills from his own pocket and took out a few, adding them to the bundle in Keith's hand. Seems she'll be staying with us for a while. Keith looked at the money, confused but stuffed it all into his back pocket anyway. He didn't like the way things were going, but he kept his mouth shut, trusting Creasy to know what he was doing. After Keith left, Creasy spent his time in the kitchen on his cell phone where the service was best, making business calls. ------------ When morning came, there was a new man standing in front of the door to Creasy's room. A few more men had arrived with the dawn, while two of the ones who'd helped with the abduction left as the sun peeked over the horizon. Creasy's gang was a pretty decent size and the men took turns going out and selling drugs. Some never came back to the hideout but met with their fellow gang members to get new supply and to pool in the money they'd made. Creasy stood on the porch moking, as the sky lightened and the first branches of sunlight started to show above the water. One of the men stood in the kitchen making breakfast, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he did so, hair greasy and wearing a soiled tank top, track marks visible on his arms as well as Nazi prison tattoos. During the night after he'd left the house, Keith worried over this new development with the girl. This so wasn't like Creasy at all and he was anxious that his boss didn't have the best interests of his men in mind when he'd decided to keep the girl as a pet. That's what it sounded like he was doing anyways. Clothes, books... why would he waste the money if he was just going to kill her? But then Keith was extremely loyal to Creasy, having stuck with the man through thick and thin, he wasn't going to bail on him now. Besides, things might still turn out well with this thing. When he got to clothing stores--ones that were still open this late--he did have a bit of trouble finding what would be deemed nice by Creasy's standards. so he just picked out clothes he thought would look good--tank tops, mini skirts, belly shirts, and other revealing, figure hugging things. He estimated at the girl's size not really caring if they would fit right, but just wanting to be out of the stores before the weird looks the clerks gave him became 911 calls. If clothes shopping was hard, book shopping was even harder, not having any clue what she would like to read. So, he just grabbed whatever was on the shelves as he passed them, until he had a nice sized armload. Several trashy romances in the mix--chicks liked those, right?--as well as random novel or two and a book full of political commentary from some random pundit. He was astonished at the total of the whole lot, never having really bought a book before, and cursed under his breath at how expensive they were even as he paid with money that wasn't his. When he arrived at the house with the rising sun he greeted Creasy on the porch with the bags of things in his hands. Creasy nodded in approval and jerked his head owards the house. Bring them in to her, he said, taking a drag of his cigarette. And tell her breakfast is almost ready. Keith nodded and started towards the door but stopped when Creasy spoke again. And don't lay a hand on her, if you know what's good for you. His tone was deathly quiet and he didn't look at Keith when he said it, but the man nodded in assent anyways. There were a few comments about the bags he was carrying as he made his way through the house past the men, but Keith kept his head up and ignored them. He passed by the man guarding her door without a word, walking right into the room.