#purpleshamrock

      It was the church, but it wasn’t. In her memory it was still covered in graffiti, Saints members would be stood outside, drinking, smoking, just vibing with their boomboxes by their sides, their shadows stretched tall by the evening sun as they shared their latest escapades in the escalating gang war, sometimes they would even be talking about her.

        Shea really thought she was doing something worthwhile here once, and she scoffed at the ghost of her younger self as she knocked back some of her vodka. If she could go back in time she’d slap herself, and then Julius, and then Dex. Troy would be watched, she still wasn’t sure where his loyalties lay, but she had a feeling that he didn’t know the answer to that either.

       She counted two pavestones and stepped forward, the edge of the graveyard would have been here and so she turned the rest of the bottle upside down and let the rest splash on the pavement, watching the alcohol seep through before she continued on her way up the steps, pushing open the heavy doors and stepping through.

       The doors slammed shut behind her, and silence fell like a curtain, the road outside seemed far way, insignificant, and as she stared around at the walls and up into the church rafters, she couldn’t describe this feeling. It was almost like coming home, almost.

       She preferred the old squalor and the grime and the passed out Saints on the floor, an empty beer bottle would be kicked across the floor, rolling under a collapsed pew before it would stop with a clank, she preferred the threadbare carpet instead of this new one, spongy under her steel toe boots. It felt so wrong. It was purple still though, and she found that a personal affront- whitewashing the past of this church was one thing, but using the colours? Nah.

        Her steps became heavier on the carpet and her hands shook and balled into fists, everything she’d done was for nothing, friends had died for nothing, she would have done anything for Julius, sure they’d disagreed on a couple of things but they were family, that shouldn’t have mattered. Loyalty was everything to her and her heart had been shattered listening to those wiretap conversations, it was all a fucking lie, Julius was a fucking lie, and he’d smiled in her face while he planned setting the bomb off on that yacht.

You did good out there Playa

Couldn’t have done it without you, we’re cleaning these streets, trust in that.

       And she did, Julius and the Saints were her world, for the first time in her life she had people watching her back, cared about what she was doing and where she lay her head down at night, it wasn’t perfect, but it was hers, being a Saint had softened her a little, and the worst thing about finding all this shit out, was that she wished it hadn’t. The riot inside her was focused then, but now she was finding herself more scattered than ever and she didn’t know where to point it.

       She caught sight of the golden cross adorning the altar and frowned, staggering slightly. She touched two fingers to her forehead, then her chest over her bullet scar, then her shoulders before she lifted the hand holding the bottle and launched it, taking little satisfaction in the glass exploding into tiny pieces before her eyes like glitter.

      She’d bled for him and his ideals, nearly fucking died, watched friends get hurt, watched some die both as a soldier and as the Saints boss. She often wondered if the deaths weighed heavy on Julius’ mind too, wondered if he thought of all those faces staring back at him from the abyss, because she did. She hardly slept at night because she couldn’t stand it and the only way she could go now was forward, to keep pushing on. To backtrack would be a slap in the face to Lin, to Carlos, to Aisha, to all her soldiers and she wouldn’t screw over those that had placed their faith in her, that deemed her worthy to follow, even to an arsehole like her that was sacred.

      Speaking of, she pulled her phone from her pocket and blinked at the screen, she’d messaged all her lieutenants but as usual only Shaundi was up, and probably high, as she responded to Shea’s furiously typed message with a ‘?’, and Shea shifted her weight to the other side, wondering how she could explain best when the heavy doors opened once more and her eyes flicked up. Finally, Dex had fucking made it here.

“The fuck took you so-”she began, putting her phone back in her pocket.

       Her blood chilled in her veins and she stood frozen as the man came closer, and though he was older, skinnier now, time had changed them both but he still wore those chains around his neck, his eyes were the same, it was Julius Little in the flesh. Confusion laced his features first as he drew near but that soon changed to a wariness as recognition dawned, but just beyond it was something else. Something else was there, and Shea knew it well too. It was contempt.

          But was that a new thing he got when he looked at her or had it always been there? Had she always been a means to an end or did he actually care about her once? She didn’t know, but she did know the feeling of adrenaline forcing its way through her veins and the blood rushing in her ears, and the ice was thawed by the heat of the rage flooding through her.

“You ain’t Dex.” he said.

“Neither are you.” she replied, eyes fixed on his, imagining burning a hole through his skull. Julius’ face then changed, his face breaking into a smile as he stepped forwards, and Shea stepped back in turn.

“You look different, did you-” his words died in his throat as his eyes fell on the gun in his face. The grin was still frozen in place however, but the smile wasn’t reaching his eyes, maybe his smiles had never reached his eyes.

“I didn’t do shit to my hair.” she snapped, and his eyes flicked back to hers, cold as steel as he raised his hands up.

“You pullin’ a gun on me?!” he asked, and Shea could hear the genuine surprise there, it made her lips twist into a smirk, though it didn’t hold much mirth.

“Well I didn’t have time to plant a bomb in the church so this will have to do.”

       And there it was. Fear. He knew she knew everything, and it was an interesting case study to see the cogs turning in his brain, to figure out his next move, Shea wondered if he could actually talk his way out of this one. Part of her hoped he would.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said, shaking his head and Shea tilted her head to one side, that was….disappointing to say the least. She had expected more. He began to pace, and so she did too, keeping her gun trained on him.

“Why don’t you educate me?” she asked, and her moving must’ve triggered something in his brain as he circled her, and he waved a hand, the contempt in his face clear as day now.

“I don’t gotta explain shit to you.” he growled, and Shea found laughter bubbling up out of her throat before she could stop herself, was this really the man she had idolised? A coward that couldn’t even explain why he did what he did? Now she had killed a few massive cunts, both before her coma and after it, but at least those cunts had enough conviction to stand by their actions.

“Well that’s where we’re gonna have to agree to disagree.” she answered.

“Why don’t you put the gun down, we both know you’re not gonna use it.” a ghost of a smirk played on his lips as he said that, and she smiled and took her finger off the trigger, flipped the safety on.

        Oh I’m going to use it alright, she thought as she lowered the gun a little, just enough to see Julius breathe a sigh of relief.