The next night, as she walks down the street from a brief check in on James, she tosses cards one by one. The ground is wet, and they stick as the fall lifelessly.

"To kill, not to kill, to kill, not to kill…decisions thoughts decisions." Coming to the alley again, her vision blurs giving her a view of undefined figures in the warehouse. Climbing to a second story window, she breaks the glass to get in. She stops, fearing she has alerted them, but when all is clear, jumps down and decides to explore. There are many offices, most empty, but a main one where they all are gathering. She sits down comfortably in a corner of the hallway right before the closed door and listens.

"Michel Anderson."

"Has he paid up?"

"Nope."

"Get rid of him." Same gruff voice. He shuffles his papers. Another man interrupts.

"Hey Stix, what happened to your girl? Where' she at?" After seeing what he had last night, he's been abnormally quiet. "You look like you seen a damn ghost…"

"She ain't comin' tonight. Why you so concerned huh?"

"Alright boys, lets cut the bullshit get back to business!" The focus is back on him.

"Ol' Jamesy boy."

"Is he still causing us problems?"

"That's just it. He ain't no more." They all chuckle.

"Call him up. Tell him to get his ass here." A man dials James' cell phone number. Groggily, he answers.

"Yeah?"

"Heey James, told ya we'd call you. A request for your presence."

"Fuck you."

"Choose wisely. Get down here." Fifteen minutes later, footsteps echo down the dark hallway. She watches him walk past her and knock three times before they open the door.

"Ah, so you still remember your manners. Have a seat."

"What do you want?" He is nervous, but his emotions go unseen as he takes the chair closet to the door for obvious reason.

"Well you owe us about a year and a half…maybe more…of your life, so what are we supposed to do about that?" James looks away. "Hmm?"

"I don't owe you anything!"

"Aw, not so defensive. I'm sure you don't need the stress. I've seen your medication prescription. I know. Who says a little unhappiness cant kill ya?" James grips the side arms of the chair, suppressing his rage. "You should have cooperated. Heartbreaking that she's gone."

"Do not talk about her."

"She was beautiful…a little freakish…" Stix shifts in his chair, uncomfortable at the thought. "Most definitely a bitch." James then lunges forward, but decides against it as other men do the same in his direction. "Watch yourself kid. Now back to what we were discussing." James goes to stand and leave, but is forced back into his seat by two men. "You have two choices. Come back to us, or suffer the consequences." Raven can't bare it any longer, so tiptoeing to the door, she pushes it open and all heads turn towards her except for that of James, who is too nervous to do so. She looks the older man directly in his eyes, and puts her finger to her lips. Shh.. She wraps her arms around James' neck and kisses his check. "A little heavy on the tear streaked eyeliner honey?" Stix goes completely white in the face. "What, you found a new freak James?"

"Baby go."

"Well I guess your girlfriends will never learn." Sitting on his lap, he instinctively holds her. "New scenario. You go, she stays, you stay, she goes." Raven climbs onto the table and walks towards the other end. None of the boys see her as a threat, but several watch her backside as she passes. She stops in front of him, and he smiles. "Well maybe she's smarter than she looks."

"Maybe." She responds. Taking her four-inch platform boot, she kicks him in the face. They all pull guns on her, but he signals them to put the weapons away. He stands, and tripping her, pulls her off the table and facing them all, takes her arm bending it backwards. The other is around her neck. "We need a little time alone fellas. Take James back to his place." James is hesitant to go as the pull at him, but Raven mouths 'go." All the men escort him out and the man pushes her forward so that she catches herself on the edge of the wooden polished table, bending over. His hands slide from her back down to her thighs in a perverted fashion. As he touches her, she feels disgusted, almost sick to her stomach, knowing the thoughts that run through his head.

"Beautiful baby, gorgeous." A sick grin creeps to his lips. He leans over her and pushes himself against her. "Maybe you'll be better at this than the last one. Couldn't get near her….she was to strong…" He gropes her as he speaks. "James taught that one well…" A cold hand slides up her shirt.

"I am the last one." She raises her leg and kicks him between his legs. He slides back against the wall, and she sits on the table facing him. "Does it hurt?" He grunts, as he stands and pulls his gun from his side. "You cant kill the dead." He fires one short into the left side of her chest, and she forcefully is pushed backwards while she still points the gun. When she sits up, he is shocked. She snatches the gun and aims it at him. "One for me…" One shot placed in his right shoulder. "One for James…" One to his left, blood splattering onto the dirty white wall behind him. "And one for the unborn baby that you murdered…" She takes a card for her bra and presses it to his forehead. "The love you took away…the lives you've ruined." Her voice is shaky as tears fall down her face. She fires a single short through the Joker card, a mine juggling knives. "Joke's on you." She drops the gun and glances down at her chest, she is loosing blood at an alarming tare. Laughter from herself. A fit of laughter so strong and so out of place, that it can only be explained by shock. She staggers to her feet, and in time, makes it from the building and back to James. The moment he hears her broken footsteps, he rips open the door. "Baby, it's over now…" She almost collapses as she speaks. He takes her in his arms and brings her inside, sitting down on the couch.

"How the hell am I supposed to help you…your bleeding so much…" His mind flashes back to the night of her murder.

"I'm ok…I'm fine…" She smiles and kisses him. He is worried, but passionately returns her kiss.

"I love you…"

"I love you now, forever, and always." They kiss until he blacks out.

            He awoke feeling ill, his head pounding. His body seemed to weigh him down to the floorboards. Folding his arms against his chest, he slowly walked into the living room. His memory served him with no reference to the night before, until he stumbled upon the blood-splattered floor that came to a pool nest to his feet. He seemed to be pushed back by some unidentifiable force as he landed on his backside. The rest of the color drained from his already pallid face as he internally held onto a scream that threatened to come roaring from his very being. Everything that he had thought to be a dream, more accurately, a nightmare, had been destroyed and affirmed by the cold dark liquid that now stained his floor. His chest heaved with his ragged breaths, and chills ran over his body. His mind wouldn't stop racing with thoughts for long enough to make sense and piece together the broken and confused parts.

            In a spur of the moment, he grabbed  a shirt that had been left upon the couch and his shoes. Running out to the street, he didn't stop, but only continued on, his hair blowing violently as his feet pounded against the wet pavement. His sight was partially blinded by the pouring rain, which also his streaming tears. By the time he reached the rusting black cemetery gates, he was trembling with both the cold and his pain. He couldn't decide if he actually wanted to enter. It was back and fourth, and he was fighting with himself.

            Closing his eyes, James finally pushed the gate, and the creaking sound disguised his foot steps. His heart rate increased, and a lump rose in his throat as he followed his memory through the paths to the angel. His heart came to a stop as the light rain washed the blood away though the tree onto the marble, pure white statue. He fell to his knees as the dead thorns on the bottom of the pile of new roses pierced his legs and hands. The blood seeped into the ground. No one visited the grave beside himself…he hadn't placed the flowers. He couldn't cry. The only proof he would have was the vengence that had been sought. Love is death.