Who: Ryan When: 6 months ago Where: Detroit Warning: Violence
Even back in Detroit Ryan had the habit of frequenting Strip Clubs. Well, not a habit, he wasn't addicted; in fact, he wondered if one could get addicted to Strip Clubs. Still, he liked the atmosphere in those places even if he wasn't always there for the ladies. Today, though, he wasn't at one of those places, but hanging out outside one late one afternoon.
A very familiar red head of hair was walking by on the other side of the street and he smiled. It was BJ, coming back from somewhere, or going somewhere; it didn't matter. She'd seen him and waved, and Ryan waved back. And then he looked to his left and saw the face of one of the dudes he'd been killing time with; jaw dropped and eyes wide, and he kept looking from Ryan to BJ and back, even though BJ was now a tiny little figure far away from them, walking alone the sidewalk. "What?" He asked casually.
"Man, you gettin' lucky with the bitches again!" The guy, Jon, said and proceeded to pat Ryan in the back almost like he wanted to punch him instead. Ryan looked ahead at nothing in paticular, blinking. Was he talking about his brother with boobs? "That fine piece of ginger crotch, man. I'd eat that thing up like I was starvin'!" He said hungrily. Oh, he was. He was talking about BJ like food, and not even in the smart way. Ryan's jaw set, and he glanced up without moving.
"Asshole that's my sibling." Ryan said blankly, still not saying sister because BJ wasn't exactly a brother but she was one of the boys, and a sister was a female sibling. It didn't compute. Really if he stopped now and apologized, Ryan would still shudder once or twice but let it go. But Jon didn't stop.
"Oh, man, you gotta hook me up!" He said excitedly, and then proceeded to relate with every detail exactly what he would do to BJ, while the others nodded and laughed, all agreeing that BJ was a goddamn piece of meat they thought they could do everything they felt like doing to.
In sum, Jon hadn't stopped. Not only had he not stopped, he had tuned it up a notch and taken it so far off the mark Ryan couldn't see it anymore. The mark, that was. Ryan closed his eyes and shook his head, jaw even more set than before it such a thing was possible. And suddenly his face wasn't the nice, often unemotional complexion people were used to. Because his nostrils were flaring and when Ryan opened his eyes they were narrow.
The others didn't notice. They never noticed; when it came to Ryan people were all too quick to dismiss him, treat him like the dimwitted idiot that he must seem most of the time. He was pretty sure Jon had never seen it coming when Ryan turned around and put his somewhat large left hand around Jon's throat, pressing him against the wall. "You ever talk about BJ that way again I'll fucking pull your cock out through your abdomen, you got it?"
Jon didn't get it this time either. At the sound of Bonnie's name, or at least what Ryan called her since she'd been born without giving it much thought, Jon and the others cracked up. And Ryan would've too, had it not been his family.
"BJ? Man, everything's coming together!" He was still capable of making puns with Ryan's hand pressed firmly around his neck. Amazing. It was really too bad Ryan wasn't packing today - this was one of the rare occasions in which he'd forgotten one of his guns at home - but that didn't mean anything good for Jon anyway. Or the others, since their laughter was drilling into his brain and making him a little crazier than he already was.
Ryan looked deep into Jon's eyes without releasing him, but anybody could tell for a little while he wasn't there anymore. Then, he was back, the flair in his eyes coming up again. Well, in his eyes, and on everybody else's clothes. And now instead of laughing they were all doing the 'drop and roll' around them, while Ryan smiled wickedly and Jon, glancing around himself, nearly shat his pants.
"Honestly, Jon, you should've known when to stop, you know? It's shit like this that puts your life in danger." He told the jackass, before moving his hand from the neck to the man's face, pulling his head towards him and then pushing it hard against the wall. So hard, in fact, it left an indentation on the wall, little bits of debris falling over the little bitch's head.
"That was not nearly as impressive as I was hoping it would be." Ryan said over Jon's obvious choked sounds of protest, tilting his head. And then he proceeded to fix the lack of impressiveness by doing the same movement yet again, this time with a lot - a lot - more strength and gusto. And then again, and again, and again. And anyone who tried to get closer would have to do the 'drop and roll', so much so, that in a bit nobody was even trying. Nobody was even there.
After ten or so bangs on the wall Ryan let go of Jon's head and took a step back. Jon, already passed out five bangs ago, slid down the wall like a discarded puppet. Ryan stood there watching him slide, and once he was on the floor he turned around and walked away. "You don't fucking disrespect my family, fucktits."