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.*･｡. EFF IT! .*･｡.
————SPY GAMES
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026.
ALL OUT WAR.
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━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

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    Sonny Penbrook had a long and twisted history with Rafe Cameron. Unspoken, of course, seeing as no one knew what that history was exactly.

   But it wasn't unspoken to them.

   Not at all, actually. Rafe knew why Sonny hated him, why it  only took the mention of his name for her to turn sour, and it wasn't just because he was a massive waste of space and a big reason why Topper acted like an asshole. No— it went deeper than that. Deeper than anyone knew.

   Deep enough that, when Sonny reached out for her Sprite and felt an arm had wrap around her waist, her skin literally crawled. She didn't have to look to know who it was, nobody else had ever done that.

    "Hi, princess."

   Sonny clenched her jaw.

    "Get off me, or lose your hand." She warned.

   Rafe blew out a low whistle, chuckling slightly. Still, he let his hand fall from her waist.

    "That's a nasty tone, Sonny." Rafe said, watching her with amused eyes as she spared the guy at the kiosk a dry smile as she snatched the Sprite can from him. Sonny cracked it open and stepped around Rafe, but he was quick to grab her hand and tug her back. Her body bumped into his, a splash of her soda hitting her converse.

    "Woah— what's the hurry?" He asked her, "It's sure been a while. Time we caught up, don'tcha think?"

    "I'd rather eat glass," she replied.

   He huffed out a laugh, "Still as funny as ever, huh?"

   Sonny said nothing.

   She just squinted at him, suddenly wishing she hadn't been stubborn enough to ignore Pope telling her that she shouldn't go anywhere alone— not even to get a drink from a kiosk five feet away. Sonny had been pretty sure that she was least likely to get jumped by the death squad, and while Rafe wasn't about to jump her, she couldn't help but think Pope was right. None of them were safe here. Not anymore.

    "You weren't at Tops' party."

   She blinked at him, keeping her face neutral. This was the closest she had seen his face since last summer. Sonny hadn't planned to see it so close again.

    "I had better things to do," she told him.

   He smirked, "Like what?"

    "Like watch beige paint dry," Sonny quipped easily.

   Rafe forced a laugh, humming to himself. "Shame, they're always more fun when you're there. You know what they say. Pool with a view."

   Sonny grit her teeth. She wanted to hit him, but at the last moment, she placed her hand on his chest. Rafe looked at it, watching her fingers toy with his collar, and smirked. "If you wanted a feel, you coulda asked."

    "Sorry," she retracted the hand, not sounding apologetic at all. "Thought I saw a lil' powder on your shirt there, country club. That's my mistake," she shrugged.

   Rafe's eyes narrowed.

He knew Sonny Penbrook was daring. Actually, he might've known that better than anyone. Rafe had seen her do a lot of crazy shit. Shit that nobody else knew about, shit that he had actually commended her for at the time, but could well be the end of him if she let it.

   Silence was the last thing they had ever agreed on. He was sure she knew better than to talk her mouth. Sonny wanted a rise out of him, to push all his buttons and take back control, and his head told him not to go there. He was in control here. He was the one with the power.

    "Still got an eye for it, I see." Rafe replied. He squeezed at her wrist and pulled her closer, hoping to see her falter, just a fraction, but there was nothing. "Some things never change."

    "Guess not," she said.

"You know, when Top told me you were slumming it with Pogues I almost didn't believe him," he told her, his free hand playing with the ends of her hair. Sonny willed herself not to pull away. Rafe didn't intimidate her. She wouldn't let him. "Said you knew better. You wouldn't stoop that low," Rafe shrugged, "Then I see you here, with them, and I eat my words. Clearly I underestimated you."

"You got a point?" Sonny cut to the chase.

He hummed, "I sent Kiara off with a lil' message from us. Haven't seen her in a hot minute, she looks good for a Pogue."

Sonny's eyes narrowed.

"Must've got lost in the mail."

"S'that so? Shame, it was sent with love..." he pouted, the gesture petty and mocking. "How about I make it up to you? With a lil' something I wrote for you specially? Now we're all alone, I think we've got some time."

   She pursed her lips.

Alone.

   She knew Rafe wouldn't do anything. Not when there was half the island there to witness it, not when he'd had a whole year to make a hit on her after their conflict last summer. He hadn't even tried to.

   Still, Sonny suddenly realised just how uncomfortable this situation was. And, judging by the twitch of his lip, he could tell. Rafe knew she was starting to squirm — even with those blank eyes and that bored look on her face. Rafe was sure he could feel it radiating off her. The idea gave him some weird and twisted kick. He liked it.

The idea of scaring her felt fucking good.

    "Wanted to tell you that I think it's admirable — you took shit into your own hands, helped them Pogues out when they needed it. Charity work," Rafe drawled, noticing the way the crease in her forehead deepened.

He laughed.

"You're not as smart as you think you are," he explained, "At least you're hot—"

    "Time's ticking, country club."

    "What I mean is, you don't fool me." Rafe leant in closer to her, "We know what you did."

"Oh," she feigned surprise, "You do?"

"Topper's boat didn't sink on its own, princess."

"Topper's boat sank?" She acted disappointed, though she didn't bother making it look believable. "That's some sad shit. The one thing I actually liked about him."

    "God, you think you're so fucking funny..." Rafe chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. His gaze travelled to the floor then back to meet her eyes. "Those Pogues ain't smart enough for something like that, wouldn't know what would cut deep, but you and I both know this has Penbrook written all over it. S'not like it'd be the first time."

   They stared at each other silently, knowing exactly what he was talking about it, and it wasn't Topper's boat. Not even close.

   Sonny couldn't help but smile.

    "You think it's funny?" Rafe accused.

"I think it's funny how delusional you are. Or maybe you're just fucked on blow—"

Rafe's grip on her wrist tightened, his face twisting darkly. He pointed a finger in her face, "You need to learn when to watch your fuckin' mouth."

"Too far? Aw, my bad," Sonny mocked him.

His angry eyes scanned over her, taking in the scabbed cut on her lip now that the light illuminated her face. With brows raised, Rafe lifted his free hand and grabbed her jaw, harshly brushing his thumb over it. She winced at the feeling, unable to help it, and Rafe pressed against it harder. He found it too satisfying— seeing her in pain. It would be a lie to say that he hadn't thought about it before.

"Getting into fights, now, Sonny?" He tutted, letting go of her face to flick the front of her cap. It was easy to recognise. Rafe had seen that cap one too many times, but it had never been on her head. "Woah. I didn't know you were Maybank's bitch too. What about Top?"

Maybank's bitch?

The comment made her stomach stir. Sonny didn't like the feeling, nor the reason it had come along— even if she wasn't completely sure what it was.

    "Guess I just know how to play 'em," Sonny said. "How's Barry by the way? I mean— you're still his bitch, aren't you?"

   His jaw locked, "You wound me, princess."

    "Quit calling me that," she warned, bored of playing silly games. They weren't leading anywhere. Not anywhere good, anyway. And he knew she hated that name. That was why it made his face twist up in delight.

    "Aw, still don't like it?"

   Sonny didn't reply. She just stomped on his foot and pulled her wrist out of his grip when he winced. It was red where he had been squeezing, and it hurt a tad, but it wasn't in Sonny's nature to show weakness — because, while Sonny was a lot of things, weak wasn't one of them.

   So she shrugged it off and span on her heel, walking away. Sonny only turned back once, just to send him one last glare. He was watching her leave.

    "Tell JJ I said hi!" He called after her.

   She just flipped him the bird.

   When she reached the picnic blanket, Sonny breathed out a sigh and plopped down, back in her spot between JJ and Pope — the former watching her closely, waiting for an explanation about why she'd taken so long.

   JJ leant over to her, voice quiet. "You good?"

   She stilled.

   No, her brain screamed, I'm not good. They're not gonna let it go. They're gonna murder Pope.

    "Princess?" He asked again.

   Sonny finally looked at him. Princess.

    "Yeah," she eventually whispered, her dark eyes flickering between his. Sonny couldn't explain why, but it just sounded better from his mouth. "I'm good."

————

Despite trying to, Sonny just couldn't pay any attention to the movie. Maybe that was because it wasn't a good one, but her eyes kept flitting behind them, keeping tabs on the death squad. Last she'd checked they were still sat in the same spot, not having moved after her chat with Rafe. Sonny wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

   She knew they wouldn't move in when half the island was watching. They weren't that stupid, they were just waiting for the chance to pounce — for one of the Pogues to leave their little group. Their little Pogue school.

   So, as long as nobody moved, Sonny figured they would be fine. All they had to do was stay put, stay still, and then make a break for it when the movie was over.

   That was easy enough, right?

   Wrong.

"Psst," Pope hissed halfway through the movie. He looked extra nervous. "Hey, JJ?"

"What?"

"I..." he hesitated, "I gotta take a piss."

Unamused, Sonny and JJ both turned to stare at him with matching frowns. Pope immediately shrank away, not feeling comfortable under their stares.

"So hold it," Sonny deadpanned.

"I can't hold it..." Pope sighed. He'd totally forgotten about inevitably needing to go to the bathroom. He really should've thought about that when Kiara'd bought him a drink, now he was in a predicament. "I drank too much soda," Pope felt his cheeks heat up, "I really gotta go."

"It's too exposed!" JJ hissed at him, looking at Kiara. She was still watching the movie, none the wiser. "They'll totally see us move, man!"

"I gotta go!"

"Hate to break it to you," Sonny peered over her shoulder again, mentally cursing herself for not keeping an eye on the Powerpuff Girls. "But you're not going anywhere."

    "But I need to go—"

    "The death squad are blocking the bathrooms."

JJ and Pope swung around to see if she was right — which made her eyes roll because was she not believable? — then turned back and sunk down in their seats.

    "Fuck," JJ breathed.

"They're blocking the freakin' bathrooms!" Pope cried, his eyes wide. Sonny scoffed at him.

    "Just said that, Heyward."

    "I heard!"

   She pulled a face, "Then why'd you—?"

    "Sh!" JJ hissed, waving his hand to silence their bickering. He looked around, then jutted his chin to the right; "C'mon."

    "Why?" Pope frowned at the boy.

    "I know where."

   Sonny said nothing of protest, but watched them stand up and shuffle around. She wasn't really sure what they could do without access to a urinal. She also wasn't sure she wanted to know what solution JJ came up with.

The boys tried to duck low, not wanting to be spotted by Topper and his bitches. They also didn't really want Kiara to spot them, but they weren't slick, nor were they discreet, and they hardly made it three steps before she was giving them a weird look. "Where y'all going?"

    "We just gotta wring it out," JJ shrugged.

   Her face twisted, slightly grossed out, "And you're gonna hold it for each other...?"

The boys looked at each other.

"Uh..."

"Um—"

"Gross, guys..." Kiara muttered, shaking her head.

   JJ and Pope didn't respond. They just shared another look, confused but glad she dropped it, and slightly grossed out she thought that was what they would do. The boys continued to slink away, crouched with slow steps, whispering as they went — no doubt about what they'd do if the death squad noticed they were gone and came at them mid-pee. Sonny sighed. In some ways, she pitied them.

   Well— maybe not JJ.

   But she definitely pitied Pope.

   He was terrified of what Topper, Rafe and Kelce would do to him, and what would happen if anyone else found out that he'd helped sink Topper's boat. But the poor kid had a lot on the line. Sonny knew how badly he wanted a scholarship. His future depended on it. And while getting the living shit kicked out of him wasn't ideal, maybe that was better than losing his only chance to get into a good college. To make his mom and dad proud of him. Sonny never had to worry about that stuff, but Pope did. Perhaps she should've thought about that before suggesting they sink the stupid boat.

If Pope got his ass kicked and lost his bright future, Sonny would be the one to blame.

She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

Sonny threw aside her half-empty Spite can and pulled her legs into her chest, peering in the direction the boys had gone before disappearing behind the shrubbery.

They would be okay... right?

No shit, she tried to tell herself. They were just going to pee and then they'd come back, safe and sound. What's the worst that could happen?

JJ wouldn't let anything happen to Pope. She knew that. If his friends found themselves in trouble, JJ always stepped in. Because, while he was a loose-canon, a liability and a pain in the ass when he wanted to be, JJ was also a good friend. The boy was fierce, but he was also fiercely loyal. He had made it clear that if anyone came for Pope, he would come for them twice as hard — he'd even pressed a gun to Topper's head in the name of John fucking Booker.

Sure, it was reckless, and she wanted to throttle him for it, but Sonny knew why he'd done it. His intentions were good. And he would do it again, maybe even worse, if it meant he could protect his friends.

But how could he when he'd left his bag behind?

Sonny's stomach twisted as she stared down at it, unable to shake off her paranoia. They'd been gone a while, now. How long did it take to pee?

Risking a glance at Kiara, finding the girl still engrossed in the movie, Sonny proceeded to look over her shoulder. What she saw — or rather, what she didn't see —, caused her whole body to stiffen. The death squad were no longer blocking the only route to the bathrooms. Actually— the death squad were nowhere to be seen. Where the fuck were they?

    "Sonny? You good?"

   Her head snapped around. Kiara was watching her with a suspicious stare. Sonny hesitated.

"Um..." she pursed her lips, "Yeah."

    "Convincing." Kiara rolled her eyes. "What is it?"

   Part of Sonny wanted to snap at her for not being as into the old movie as much as she'd seemed to be. To go back to minding her own business. But after some thought, she soon decided that would be unfair.

After all, JJ and Pope were her business — and if they were being beaten to a pulp by Topper, Rafe and Kelce, then that would be her business too.

Even if they had agreed to keep her out of it.

   Sonny's eyes went back to the empty seats the death squad once occupied. If it weren't for the empty red cups and candy wrappers, she might've thought they were never there to start with. This was bad. She could feel it in her gut. So, when she looked back at Kiara, she grimaced.

Kiara straightened slightly.

"What?"

She was going to find out sooner or later, especially if her friends were found dead in the shrubbery somewhere. With that in mind, Sonny reached out and took Kiara's jaw in her hand, tilting her head to the spots JJ and Pope had once sat, then to chairs Topper, Rafe and Kelce left behind. She then looked her right in the eye.

"We need to go."

Kiara's face fell. She nodded once.

"Then let's fucking go."

————

Sonny wasn't sure when she last moved so quickly.

It could've been back at the motel, or maybe when they'd run from the square groupers at John B's house, or maybe it was at Ms Lana's place.

She really couldn't be certain.

But, as she and Kiara jumped up and made a break for it, grabbing JJ's bag and swearing at the Kook family who had whined that they were blocking the screen, Sonny knew that she was certain of one thing — that this might have been the quickest she'd ever moved in her life.

"There!"

Sonny scrambled after Kiara, slipping behind the screen to find JJ and Pope mid-fight.

And they definitely weren't winning.

"C'mon!" Topper lurched at Pope while Rafe and JJ threw fists at each other, Kelce circling them, eager to get stuck in. Three against two was hardly a fair fight. But John B wasn't around to help, to even the numbers, so what choice did the two of them have? Die without a fight? Without even trying? JJ would rather take a long walk off a short pier than give in to Topper, Rafe and Kelce.

"Let's fucking go, Pogue!" Rafe yelled at him.

JJ scoffed at him.

"You fight like a pussy, Cameron!"

The whole scene quickly became a blur. One hazy mess of swinging fists and busted lips, grunts few and far between. As it worsened by the second, Sonny couldn't help but recoil, an uneasiness building within her.

   It was guilt.

She bumped into Kiara, unable to tear her eyes away from the brawling. It wasn't the first fight she had seen between the Pogues and the Kooks, but it was the first she'd seen from the other side of the animal kingdom. She'd never really worried about Topper before— Rafe always kept him alive. He was a bit older, definitely stronger, and he seldom lost. But it wasn't Topper Sonny had to worry about this time. No. This time, it was JJ and Pope.

Because Rafe wasn't fighting with them.

He wanted to kill them.

And it would all end up being Sonny's fault. Because she'd told them to sink the boat, she'd helped. It was her idea, and it was about to get them both killed — when she'd already told Pope she wouldn't let anything happen.

   "Hey!"

   Sonny was pulled from her sinking thoughts as Kiara ran past her, jumping into action by hauling herself at Topper.

   She swung JJ's bag. It hit him in the side, hard, and she felt no guilt when he stumbled. Kiara hit him again, "Leave him alone, Topper! Fascist asshole!"

   Topper shoved Pope aside, then snatched the bag straight out of Kiara's hands. He threw it away, barely bothering to see where it landed. It was far away from the three of them, and even further away from the other three — where Kelce now had JJ pinned, his arms behind his back as Rafe threw punches at his jawline.

    "Hey, listen, Pope!" Topper taunted him, "All you gotta do is accept responsibility—!"

    "Screw you, Kook!" Pope hissed.

    "You little—"

     "Topper, stop!" Kiara jumped on his back, hands yanking his head back while his fists swung.

   And Sonny just stood there.

   Her eyes flitted around, watching as Rafe pummelled JJ, as Topper bucked around to get Kiara away from him, as Pope scrambled away from his prying hands. She just stood there, unmoving, unthinking.

   For a moment, everything was quiet.

   She breathed in, squeezing her eyes shut. It wasn't the time for silence. She had to help. But maybe shouldn't. Maybe she should run. Sonny was good at running.

Away from people, mostly. Back to her little bubble. But it wasn't an option right now. Even if she really wanted to, even if the guilt was too great. Because JJ was alone and brawling with Kelce now, and Rafe was grabbing Kiara by her hair to drag her away from Topper, so Topper could beat Pope. The moment Kiara's body hit the ground, the noise returned, no longer silent, and Sonny felt her blood begin to boil. She was suddenly aware that she had been still for far too long. Sonny should've jumped in quicker.

Better late than never, she supposed.

    "Stay out of this, Kiara!"

    "Leave her alone, Rafe!" Sonny shoved him aside, nearly sending him off his feet.

He stumbled around, eyes darkening the moment he saw her, but Sonny chose not to falter.

Rafe didn't scare her, she reminded herself, fists clenched. She wasn't intimidated by him. Not even when he chuckled hollowly.

"And here she is," Rafe said to no one in particular, "Was wondering when you'd finally show your face, princess. Your timing is a lil' off, though."

"Pick on someone your own fucking size!" Sonny snapped, sick of hearing him talk. She'd heard Rafe talk enough that day to last the rest of her life. Any amount was too much. It made her head hurt.

    "Like who?" He stepped closer, "You?"

It was tense.

Sonny wasn't stupid. She knew she was no taller than Kiara was. And since Rafe didn't seem to be shrinking, it was hardly an accurate statement. Still, Sonny didn't care. Not that Rafe had been taller than her for years now. Not that he was taking another daunting step towards her.

"Wanna go, Penbrook?"

She squinted her eyes harder, if that was possible.

"Go on. I'll even give you a free hit," he taunted, tilting his head to expose his cheek.

Sonny swung.

Her fist hit his cheek square on, his head flying back. Rafe hadn't expected it, that was for sure.

While he was distracted, Sonny ignored the pain in her fist and ran at Topper.

    "Topper, fucking stop it!"

    "C'mon! Just admit it!" Topper ignored her, arms wrapped around Pope's neck. He tightened his grip, enough for the kid go choke. "Admit that you did it, bitch!"

    "I did it!" She grabbed his arm. Memories of the night he almost drowned John B flashed before Sonny's eyes. "Topper, it was my fault! Leave him alone!"

"I fuckin' knew it!"

She heard Rafe's voice before she saw him.

Sonny felt hands on her shoulder blades and she was sent flying to the ground, hitting the grass hard. The dirt scraped her elbows and shot a wave of pain down her spine, but that was quickly forgotten when Rafe straddled her hips, pinning her arms either side of her head before she could move. His face was suddenly close to hers.

"Looks like you gotta learn the hard way, princess!" Rafe hissed at her, his teeth grit.

"Get off!" She struggled against him.

Rafe was stronger than she was — contrary to the mark on his cheek that would be a light purple by morning. Even then he was stronger. He was bigger too, to the point where he was looming over her like a shadow. Sonny had never felt so small. Not since she was a little kid.

Still, she fought.

    "Rafe!"

"Not so brave now, princess!"

Her vision flashed red. She hated when he called her that.

Without really thinking about the consequences, her head tipped back and she spat right in his face. It made Rafe reel, his head snapping to the side. The whole world stopped. He slowly looked back down at her.

"I'll fucking kill you," he seethed, nostrils flaring. "Like I should've done last summer."

"I'd like to see you try," she challenged.

Bad move.

One moment Rafe's hands were on her wrists, the next his grip was on her neck. He squeezed— slowly at first, but then tighter. Until Sonny wheezed.

Maybe Sonny shouldn't have called his bluff, maybe Sonny should've chosen her words more wisely. Because, while Rafe was just a scared little boy at heart, and while he'd had a year to kill her if he really wanted to, he was still psychotic. Sonny was naive to assume he wouldn't finally take the chance when it was right there in front of him.

   The world turned hazy.

   Her face heated up, eyes bulging out of her head. The vein in her forehead protruded and she started to choke. She put a hand up, fumbling to jam her finger into his eyes, though that had little effect. Everything started to dim.

   But, even as a darkness curved her vision, she could still see him. Sonny could see all of him, and so clearly — his thin lips, the thrill in his dark eyes, the greasy hair falling down into his face. Sonny could see him.

   God forbid the last thing she saw was Rafe Cameron.

   It was a real good thing Sonny didn't die there. She couldn't really tell what happened, but Rafe was suddenly looking the other direction, away from her choking face, illuminated by a new orange hue. Whatever it was, it was too bright for Sonny to keep her eyes open.

   His grip faltered.

   When she opened her eyes, Rafe was looking at her again. But as she thought he was about to finish the job, he took his hands away from her throat.

    "You got lucky this time," he told her.

   He tapped her cheeks.

    "Count your days, princess."

   A long and strangled breath rocketed through her chest and his face twisted. Disappointed, maybe — whether it was down to his crazy actions, or the fact he hadn't completed them, she wasn't so sure. Regardless, Rafe hauled himself away from her and dashed out of sight, leaving Sonny to look at the night sky above as she spluttered and wheezed. There was still a ringing in her ears and her head ached, but Sonny could breathe, so she thought that was something at least.

    "Sonny!"

   JJ.

   He appeared in her vision, standing above her with knotted brows. Sonny wondered if JJ Maybank might've actually cared that Rafe had just tried to kill her.

   In fact, it looked like they all cared when Pope and Kiara's worried faces soon accompanied him. If Sonny didn't still feel like her eyes were about to burst out of her head and explode there and then, she'd have rolled them. But it hurt too much, to return to her usual bad attitude, and any attempt made her eyes start to water instead.

They would think she was crying.

How embarrassing.

    "Hey— you're good," JJ assured her, gently helping her sit up. Kiara and Pope quickly crouched by their side, hovering just in case. "It's all good, princess."

    "Thank god you're alive!" Pope cried out.

    "No shit," Sonny rasped.

    "Okay," he nodded to nobody in particular, shrugging his shoulders. "Stating the obvious."

   That time, Sonny did roll her eyes.

   She would've insulted him if she hadn't registered how hot she suddenly felt, or the sweat beading on her brow. She was quick to look away from the Pogues and to the movie screen, which was now going up in roaring flames. Her jaw dropped as she gawped up at it.

    "What the hell did you do?!" She croaked at JJ.

    "What?" He blinked, pointing a finger to himself. His voice was slightly raspy from Kelce's headlock. "Why're you looking at me?"

    "You're seriously asking me that?"

    "...fair point," he shrugged, "But that was all Kie."

Sonny slowly peered at her, brows at her hairline, shocked Kiara had done something that impulsive. Usually that was a JJ move, maybe even John B, but not Kiara. She was meant to be one of the levelheaded ones. "Not bad, Mother Nature. You know, I'm actually impressed."

   Kiara's eyes lit up.

   JJ frowned, "Would you be impressed if I did it?"

    "No."

   He shot Sonny a sour look.

    "Let's get outta here," Pope suggested, shuddering at the mere idea of being jumped again. "Before they come back,"

    "Yeah," Sonny muttered, letting JJ help her up. He gripped onto her shoulders and, weirdly, she didn't mind. Actually, she felt... safe. Maybe that was the near death experience, but she didn't push him away. Not yet, at least. Not until she was sure she could stand on shaky legs.

Kiara sighed.

"This was supposed to be fun..."

Sonny shrugged, "Least it was a shitty movie."

   JJ snorted.

   Kiara snapped at him, saying he had zero taste so he didn't have a leg to stand on, and Pope nodded before mumbling a few things about JJ making him watch Sharknado four times in one week — how he got so bored that he did JJ's homework instead of watching. JJ leapt to the defence, expressing why it was the best film ever made — it wasn't even close to being one of the best — and started to recap each scene. They all groaned, trying to ignore him while they collected their things, but his argument continued for a while.

   Sonny was too distracted to listen. She paused a moment, looking back at where the fight occurred, her face hard. The death squad had run off before she could give Topper a piece of her mind, but she had a feeling he would come back, he always did. Just maybe not to smooth things out, this time. Because, while nobody had really won that fight, the Kooks weren't used to losing. To not coming out on top. It wouldn't sit well. Sonny knew they'd come back.

   And they would hit even harder.

   It was all out war.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

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