The Runaway and the Enforcer

Chapter 1 “Think you’re tough enough to take me on, you ugly bastard?” Beau didn’t reply. He knew he had one chance to prove he could. His gaze went from the knife the muscle-bound thug was holding, then to his face, looking for tells that would let him know when the guy would lunge. He saw what he was looking for. As the knife came toward his gut, Beau made one swift move, grabbing the guy’s hand, and twisted his arm behind him as he snapped his wrist. The knife dropped to the ground and Beau kicked it away. The guy screamed in agony. That lasted all of two seconds, at which point Beau slammed his fist against the guy’s temple and felt the bone crunch. He released his hold on his arm, and when the thug hit the ground, Beau looked down at him, shaking his head. “Yeah, this ugly bastard is tough enough to take you on.” “s**t!” Beau spun around, searching for whoever had said that. He saw a kid, maybe eighteen he thought, huddled in a corner between a dumpster and the alley wall. “Did you k-k-kill him?” the kid stuttered out. “It was him or me,” Beau answered, taking a step forward. “Don’t hurt me,” the kid begged, cowering back in fear. Beau snorted. “Not planning on it. You haven’t done anything to me.” “I won’t, either. I swear. If anyone asks, I didn’t see nothing.” “Anything. You didn’t see anything.” The kid gave him a puzzled, if still frightened look. “Yeah. Okay.” Beau dropped to one knee, staring at him. “What’s your name?” “Umm…Stony.” “Your real name.” “That is my real name,” the kid said defiantly. “Uh-huh.” Beau frowned at him. The kid sighed. “Roderick. But it’s so lame, even the nickname is. I mean Rod? Come on.” “Only if you let it be.” Beau paused a beat. “Rick.” “Yeah, I’ve been called that, too. But not so much. Usually it’s ‘Roderick, shut up and listen to me, or else.’ ‘Rod, get your ass in gear.’ “Aww, is Roddy feeling sorry for his little self.’” “Your folks?” Rick nodded. “Them, well…until I took off. Guys at school. I mean, look at me.” “Hard to, when you’re all scrunched up in the corner.” Beau smiled when Rick got to his feet. “Okay, Mr. Universe you ain’t.” “No shit.” Rick, because that’s what Beau decided to call him, was all of five ten, he guessed, thin as a rail, with too-long brown hair and boyish good looks which would probably turn handsome when he matured. “How long have you been on the streets?” Beau asked as he stood as well. “Too long,” Rick muttered. He glanced at the body lying a few feet away. “You going to leave him there? What if he’s not really dead?” “He is,” Beau replied succinctly. “How come he was trying to knife you?” “He had a beef with me.” “Aww, gee, you think? I could have figured that out for myself, unless he thought he was going to mug you.” “He wasn’t.” “So why was he after you? And what’s your name?” “I won’t tell you why, and the name’s Beau.” “Uh-huh. Your real name,” Rick said, mimicking Beau’s words from a moment ago. Beau laughed. “Honest, it is. Beauregard Calhoun by birth. Beau by choice.” Rick grinned. “I took French, before I, umm, quit school. Beau means beautiful.” “Which I’m not. Trust me, I know.” Beau ran a hand over his short, thinning hair. Rick eyed him. “But you’re not ugly, either, like the guy said. Sure, you ain’t no movie star—” “Aren’t a movie star.” “What are you, the grammar police?” Beau chuckled. “Not even close, but my mom, bless her sainted soul, was an English teacher. Some of it rubbed off on me.” “Okay, okay, so I’ll try to do better.” Rick cast another look at the dead man. “Can we get the hell out of here?” “Sure, though I do have a question, first. How come you haven’t run already, or called the cops.” “Me and…don’t say it.” Rick’s lips quirked up. “The cops and I don’t see eye to eye on things. Like they think I should be crashing at a shelter, and I think it’s none of their damned business where I sleep as long as I’m not hurting anyone.” “And you’ve seen dead bodies before, so they don’t bother you.” Beau made it a statement, not a question, since he had the feeling he was right. “A couple.” Rick’s mouth tightened. “Kids who OD-ed. And yeah, that bothered the hell out of me. But this guy had it coming. He tried to attack you and that knife wasn’t no…wasn’t a toy. So I figure maybe he got what he deserved. I’d rather not hang around here too much longer, though. Someone’s going to come by and, well, you know.” “Call the cops. Yeah,” Beau replied as he started down the alley. “You hungry?” Rick grabbed his backpack from behind the dumpster and hurried after him. “When aren’t I?” “Figured you’d say something like that. It’s late, but I think there’s an all-night diner a couple of blocks from here, if I remember right.” “They don’t let kids like me in.” “You’re with me. They will,” Beau told him. “Gonna go all tough guy if they don’t?” Beau winked. “Possibly.” “You probably could. You look like a guy who doesn’t take any s**t. If you were wearing a suit, and a…what do they call those hats in gangster movies?” “Fedoras.” “Yeah. Them. If you had one of those you’d pass for someone in the mob.” Beau shook his head as they left the alley and started down the street. “Mob guys look just like anyone else these days.” “That’s no fun.” “Maybe not for you, but they don’t want to stand out as what they are. I mean, would you, if you were them?” “No. I guess not.” All the while that they were talking, Beau was keeping an eye, and an ear, open for any signs someone else might try to attack him. He suspected Cap, the S.O.B. he’d killed, had gotten lucky, spotting him as he entered the alley, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Especially since the kid was walking right beside him. There were a few people around, going from the club, across from the alley, to their cars. The last of the die-hards, who stuck around until they were kicked out. It was my bad luck, Cap being there. Stops in for a drink, happens to look out the damned window, and decides to take a chance he can take me out before I knew he was around. If he’d kept his mouth shut, he might have. “You think someone else could be around?” Rick asked, barely above a whisper. “You keep looking at everyone, and everything.” “Probably not,” Beau replied. “No sense being stupid, though.” “Why did he come after you?” “Like I said, he had a beef with me. About what is none of your business.” Rick looked hurt for a moment. Then he grinned. “You are a mobster and a rival gang wants you out of the picture, for good.” Beau laughed. “This isn’t a movie.” In fact, Rick had almost hit the nail on the head, only it wasn’t a rival gang after him. It was his own people. I’m stupid, being out here. Was the minute I decided to take a walk before I got full-blown cabin fever. He did a fast check, as they turned the corner onto the street holding the diner. No one seemed the least bit interested in him, or them. Two minutes later, he was opening the diner door. The place was almost empty, other than the guy behind the counter, a tired-looking waitress, and two men seated in separate booths—both of them engrossed in eating. Beau led the way to a booth at the back, well away from the window. “Order whatever you want,” Beau told Rick. “I’m paying.” Rick didn’t argue, taking the menu from the holder to look at it. When the waitress came over, pad in one hand, pencil in the other, Beau ordered coffee. “What about you, kid,” the waitress asked. “A double cheeseburger with everything, fries, and a soda,” Rick replied. “Medium on the burger, please.” She wrote down his order, took it to the cook, then returned with Rick’s soda and a coffee pot. After filling Beau’s cup, she went back to sit at the counter. “How come you’re not eating,” Rick asked. “Not hungry.” “Then why…?” Beau shrugged. “You look like you could use some fattening up. Consider this my donation toward making that happen.” “You’re trying to bribe me to keep my mouth shut,” Rick retorted with a brief grin. “If I was, there’s your chance to ignore it and do the right thing,” Beau said as a squad car went by the diner, running lights and siren. “Naw. Like I said, the guy was asking for it.” Rick stared at Beau for a long moment. “I never would have figured, looking at you, that you could make moves like that, though.” Beau smiled dryly. “Practice.” “Military? Or, umm, martial arts?” “For sure not the military,” Beau replied. “Never had any martial arts training.” Rick continued studying him. “You learned how to defend yourself on the streets.” Beau merely nodded as the waitress came back with Rick’s food. For the next few minutes, Rick’s concentration was on what he was eating. Beau kept an eye on the door to the diner, ready to leave by the back entrance, fast, if anyone he recognized came in. He was carrying, although he hadn’t needed his gun to take Cap down. In here, if someone showed up? He wasn’t about to engage in a gun battle where innocent people could get shot, so running was the only alternative. “That was good,” Rick said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I should have saved some of it though, for later,” he added regretfully. Beau flagged down the waitress to tell her, “Give me the same as he had, to go, and give me the check for everything.” “You didn’t have to do that,” Rick protested. “Like I said—” “I need fattening up.” Rick looked at him gratefully. “Thanks.” “No problem.” Beau finished the last of his coffee before asking, “Do you have a safe place to crash?” “Yeah. Back where you found me. But if the cops were going there, because someone called about a dead body…” “Got it. Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve got a spare bed if you want to use it, tonight. You can shower, too.” Rick looked at him with distrust, saying snarkily, “And you want what in return? A blowjob? s*x?” Beau rolled his eyes. “I think a blowjob is s*x, just not all the way. And, no, that’s not why I’m offering.” “What are you? Some do-gooder when you’re not killing people?” He hissed in a startled breath when the waitress suddenly appeared, setting a carryout bag on the table before handing Beau the check. Beau looked at it then handed her cash to pay it, telling her to keep the change. “Sorry about that,” Rick muttered. “No harm, no foul. She didn’t hear you. Let’s get out of here.” Beau slid out of the booth, waited for Rick to join him, and then headed toward the back door of the diner. When they were outside, Rick asked, “Are other people looking for you?” “It’s possible,” Beau replied. Too damned possible, which makes him a good cover. “What did you do? Off the wrong guy?” Beau shook his head in feigned amusement. “Still convinced I’m some sort of gangster?” “Yeah, maybe. Or an undercover cop.” “For damned sure I’m not a cop. And you never answered my question back there. Do you want to stay at my place tonight, no strings attached?”