Ricky

Planning

         Ricky was casually leaning on the door, but he was facing away from the hospital, watching a small group of about seven gangsters that were talking. They had black bandannas on; except for one whose bandanna was a dark green.
         “Ricky, what’s up?” Ricky heard in his ear and turned to look at his brother, who looked nervous. Ricky just sighed then he answered.
         “I’m about to get myself in serious trouble, bro. Can you disappear for a minute? Just wait in the car,” Ricky told his brother who slipped around and into the driver’s seat without a word. He closed the door slowly, so it was quiet and didn’t get any unwanted attention. Ricky bit his lip and thought hard about what he was planning to do. He sighed, then called over to the gangster with the green bandanna because he was obviously the one in charge.
         “Hey, Deuce! I wanna talk to you!” he called out, not showing how fast his heart was beating or the fear he felt when Rebel’s little brother trained his evil eyes on the kid who’d killed Rebel. The whole group turned, but only Deuce and one other recognized Ricky. Deuce’s eyes were mismatched, one of them blue and the other one a light green. The intrigued expression in those eyes had enough hatred intertwined to turn a man’s blood cold, but Ricky didn’t look away. Deuce turned back to his boys and told them something that Ricky couldn’t understand from the distance, but it looked like instructions. Deuce then motioned for the other one who knew Ricky to follow him and they strolled up to the Mustang, Deuce holding his jacket to hide the gun Ricky knew the gang leader had. Ricky pushed himself off the car and stepped forward to meet with the man who wanted him dead and had told the only major secret Ricky had had to Drake.
         “Ricky, you little bastard, I hope you know what you’re doing because I don’t feel like cleaning up a body today,” Deuce warned him with hatred and curiosity still in his eyes.
         “To tell you the truth, I’m hoping I know too, but I’m not quite sure. I need your opinion and some ideas about something. I figured you could just give me ideas, then maybe forget you ever even saw me,” Ricky explained with a hint of hope in his voice, but not enough to sound like begging. The hate disappeared out of Deuce’s eyes so now Ricky knew he was really intrigued.
         “Okay, I’ll give my opinion, but I’m not making any promises about forgetting I saw you,” Deuce told the teen. Ricky had to think, then he agreed.
         “Okay, I guess that’ll do. It’s better than I expected, since I’m still alive,” Ricky admitted, making Deuce give an evil, smug little smile.
         “Well, I’d hate to disappoint your expectations, kid,” Deuce told Ricky, jokingly, but he sounded serious enough to make Ricky feel nervous. Ricky glanced over at Deuce’s lackey to be sure his gun was still in the holster. When he saw that it was, he turned back to Deuce.
         “Okay, Deuce, I need to get even for a friend, but I promised him I’d be good. How do I do that without breaking the promise?” Ricky asked. He knew that Deuce was good at finding loopholes and taking advantage of them. Deuce shifted his weight and glanced around, but thinking too hard to actually see anything.
         “Tell me everything and I’ll help you out kid. I might even drop the hit I’ve got on you,” Deuce added. Ricky had to think because Deuce was the same age as Ricky and Ricky didn’t want everyone in town to know about Rob. Ricky felt Deuce’s eyes on him, waiting.
         “Fine, I’ll tell you what I know,” Ricky began and he told Deuce everything he’d found out about Rob, even including that Blayze and his friends could get even. Blayze had managed to avoid promises, except for keeping an eye on Ricky’s temper. As Ricky went through what Rob had done, hatred slid back into Deuce’s eyes. When Ricky finished, Deuce’s gangster spoke first.
         “Kid, who is it? I’ll kill him myself,” he began, but Deuce motioned to him and the gangster fell silent again.
         “Sorry about him. Killer’s got a think against child abuse. And so do I, so I will help you. One way to get around the promise without making your brother go to jail would be to have the other guy – Rob – start something that you’d have to beat him. If he loses his temper and hits you, I know you’ll fight back. That’s how you killed my brother,” Deuce added, with bits of anger and sadness in his voice. Ricky looked away, sad. If someone beat Blayze to death, Ricky definitely wouldn’t be as forgiving as Deuce was being.
         “I’ll try that. I really didn’t mean to beat Rebel that bad, I just…..I didn’t know how hard I was hitting him, I guess,” Ricky admitted, looking back at Deuce sadly. He wasn’t looking for forgiveness, he just wanted to explain himself and hope that Deuce would maybe understand the reasoning.
         “I know that, kid. Don’t worry about it now. We’ve gotta help that friend of yours, and we’re gonna have plenty of people to help us with that. Killer, go get your brother,” Deuce ordered, not looking away from Ricky’s green eyes. Killer nodded silently and walked over to the rest of the gangsters, who had gone back to their earlier conversation.
         “So you don’t hate me anymore?” Ricky asked, wondering why Deuce forgave him so quickly. Deuce gave a little smirk.
         “Well, kid, it turns out you aren’t the merciless killer I always figured you were. So, no, I don’t hate you,” Deuce told him as Killer came back over, escorting another guy in a bandanna, but this one looked younger than the rest. He only seemed to be fourteen or fifteen, if even that.
         “I can definitely deal with that. So you’re gonna help me out with Rob? I don’t want him dead, but maybe jail would be a good place for someone like him,” Ricky decided. Deuce leaned against the Mustang, obviously trying to find a way to send Rob to prison.
         “How about drugs? Those are easy to plant and carry some sort of jail time. Oh, by the way, I’m Viper,” Killer’s brother told him, as Deuce and Killer watched him. Ricky caught the easy way Viper talked about framing Rob and the jail time. Deuce and Killer glanced at each other and shook their heads.
         “Why not?” Viper asked. He’d seen the way his brother and Deuce had shot down his idea. Viper must be new to the group, Ricky decided. That’d explain why his suggestion was so obviously wrong to the bosses.
         “Drugs are obviously planted, since I don’t think Rob’s a user and he doesn’t live like a dealer. Besides, he deserves much worse than a simple possession charge. Ricky, I’m positive you can get Rob to say he’ll kill you. If he has a weapon on him when he says that he’s gonna kill you, it’s considered conspiracy to commit a murder. It doesn’t matter whether or not they know that they have the weapon,” Deuce informed them. Ricky grinned.
         “In other words, somebody slips him a gun, then I get to fight with him. That way he’s got a concealed weapon or just an unregistered gun. No, wait, Drake said he normally has a knife, so we might not have to frame him,” Ricky remembered. At that, Deuce’s eyes quickly flickered over to Viper, so Ricky turned and looked at Viper, too.
         “Oh, by the way, I’m pretty much the resident expert on weapon laws. If he has a knife on him, it’s a concealed weapon, but if you get him to threaten you and pull out the knife, it gets worse. That’s threatening, a concealed weapon and if he goes after you with the knife, it’s assault with a deadly weapon,” Viper explained.
         “Plus the conspiracy,” Deuce added, sitting on the Mustang. When Ricky saw that, he remembered something. He walked around to the driver’s door and glanced in the window. He laughed when he saw Blayze asleep. The seat was reclined all the way back and the older Claver had his hoodie sprawled over his face.
         “What are you looking about?” Deuce questioned, now laying on the trunk to try and see the driver’s side.
         “My brother’s passed out. He was out late last night at a new club,” Ricky explained. Deuce laughed and sat back up, leaning on his knees as Ricky came back around.
         “So, you guys think it’ll work? I mean, if it’s that simple, something’s gonna go wrong. That’s just the way it always seems to work out,” Ricky added, glancing around this group of three gangsters and a teen who caused fear in anyone who knew him. Killer looked thoughtful; Viper confident and Deuce looked reflective. The brothers waited and let their boss answer Ricky’s question first. Deuce sighed, then closed his eyes for a second, thinking.
         “You’re right, but there’s really no way to prepare for the unknown. Viper, how about you take Ricky to this guy and see what happens? Wait, you’re new. Let me rephrase that: Viper, you’re taking Ricky to talk to Rob. Get,” Deuce ordered. Ricky laughed and Viper nodded, motioning for Ricky to follow him. They strolled past the other four or so of Deuce’s boys, who were watching Ricky and Viper, interested. About a row behind the gang was a customized Dodge Ram, black with white flames running the length of the truck. When Viper pulled out the keys, Ricky stopped.
         “Do you have a driver’s license, Viper? No offense, but you look too young to be driving,” Ricky added. Viper grinned and flipped the keys over his fingers before he answered.
         “No. I don’t have my license, but Killer taught me how to drive. I’m fifteen, but my parents won’t let me get my license until I’m eighteen. I always drive my brother’s truck and I have never been pulled over,” Viper told Ricky proudly. At that, Ricky began walking to the truck again. Viper went around the truck running his fingers down the white paint lovingly. Ricky got in the truck and glanced around. Deuce was still sitting on the Mustang, talking to Killer. Ricky realized that, for a teenager, Deuce knew a lot about business and he used every bit of that knowledge to survive, and own the streets that his brother ran. Ricky jumped slightly when the driver’s door opened and Viper slid in.
         “What, you get lost going around the truck?” Ricky teased, but Viper gave a smug smile. He slammed the door and flipped the left side of his jacket.
         “No, I had to check on something. And we’re just gonna leave it at that,” Viper told Ricky. The way he said it made Ricky think of violence, for some odd reason. His gun, Ricky noticed, wasn’t on the normal side, facing Ricky. It must be on the other side, so Viper’s jacket probably caught it. If Viper was right handed and he moved his gun to the left side, that meant something was up.
         “Yo, man, I gotta ask. How much was the reward for me dead? I mean, I know Deuce is rich so it had to be a lot,” Ricky added, trying to forget his paranoid thoughts. If Viper was new, he’d still want to prove himself. Stop it, Ricky told himself. Remember what Blayze said, he thought, the “what-ifs” can drive a man insane.
         “I think Killer said it was about 100K. Don’t trust me on that one, though. I just go by bits that I hear the boys talking about. Why do you ask? Somebody was saying he dropped that right before I came over,” Viper told him.
         “Dude, why are we just sitting here? Can you not talk and start the truck at the same time?” Ricky joked. Viper didn’t answer; he started the truck and put it in reverse. When they were moving, Ricky answered Viper’s question.
         “I was just wondering if he did drop it. $100,000 for li'l old me? Wow, I didn’t think it was that high. Okay, then, you must be left-handed, am I right?” Ricky asked, figuring it was all right to explain his thoughts to this kid who could probably frame every politician in the city and never get caught for it.
         “What? That’s a really random question, Ricky. Yeah, I’m left-handed. My turn. Where are we going?” Viper questioned. Ricky laughed at that.
         “I guess I didn’t tell. Down on Gold Street. I think they got into a black Lexus, but I’m not sure. Yo, why did you automatically suggest drugs when we were talking about framing?” Ricky asked, suddenly remembering something Deuce had said to shoot down Viper’s idea, but he kept it to himself.
         “Only because I know this dealer in town who owes me a few favors, so I could’ve gotten the drugs for nothing. Me and that dealer go way back,” Viper added, explaining how he’d know a drug dealer. Ricky didn’t respond, he was thinking back to Deuce, staring out the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Viper turn and look at him, but Ricky ignored it. The truck was silent, only because Ricky was now nervous. He was chewing on his finger again, trying to figure this out.