Bad II the Bone Read Online Free

from the counter, dissipating the energy with a thought, got a grip on her almost out-of-control anger and turned to face the teller again, her intensity making the young woman shuffle uncomfortably backwards.
   Magdalene diverted her eyes, knowing a storm was coming.
   “Get your fucking manager out here now,” Y growled, the tears finally breaking from her glistening eyes. “And they better have some answers for me!”

 
    Brixton High Street, McDonald’s 10.45am
     
    “Baby, what’s up?” Suzy asked concerned.
   Y’s voice over the mobile sounded dark and foreboding, an almost alien monotone delivered with uncharacteristic hopelessness that caught Suzy unaware as she listened. Immediately her intuitive nature – that weird sister ESP thing they shared - knew something was disastrously wrong. Suzy tried to maintain her focus on the iPhone stuck to her ear but the cold dread leeching into her core was impossible to ignore. She wasn’t sure whether Y’s immediate trauma had her on edge or the situation that was developing on her side of the phone was causing her sudden dark mood.  
    “It’s not good sis,” Y continued, her voice unsteady.
   “What nuh good babe?” Suzy asked.
   “Everything, our plans, our dreams, up in fucking smoke,” Y lamented from a place of despondency Suzy had never before experienced her sister coming from. “I need to see you, we all need to talk.”
   “Who the fuck yuh talking to, chiny gal?” The brash question, interrupting Suzy’s heart to heart, flung from the vocal chords of someone who seemed offended the focus was not on him was annoying. “That’s bad manners.” The Mouth - she had named him in that seconds after they were informally introduced – continued flapping his big lips. “You know I ain’t done dealing wid you yet.”
   Suzy’s thin brows twitched upwards and her eyes narrowed while she watched The Mouth and his cronies bungle into her personal space with the manufactured menace that should have her concerned but didn’t.
   “Everything okay?” Y asked at the other end.
   “Mi cool baby. Let me call yuh back. I’m on deh clock an’ have a pressing situation I need to resolve. I’ll call Patra when mi deal wid dis.”
   “You’re sure things okay?”
   “Tings criss sis. Relax, we will talk later.”
  
    If Suzy had worn a short sleeve shirt to work today ma ybe she could have defused the animosity she sensed immediately directed to her as she walked into the restaurant. If they could see the dragon shaped burn that stretched from her shoulder to her wrist that she’d had a master tattoo artist render to resemble the glorious colors and viciousness of T'eng-she – the Chinese flying dragon – maybe she could have deflected their intention.
    Bad gal, don’t test.
    But that wasn’t going to happen. The Mouth and his crew were the focus of this bad vibe maelstrom that not just colored her psychic senses but her pedestrian perception had to put up with it as well. And if that wasn’t bad enough, her mind interpreted their radiating malcontent as a smell of vegetation rot, a chlorophyll tinged stink issuing from the boys only she could smell. Suzy slid the housing on her mobile shut and tucked it into her belt holster, her intense brown eyes sweeping over the boys.
    That’s right bwoys, you now have my attention.
    The Mouth was in his early twenties maybe, quite good looking, a solid physique with an attitude that had been nurtured without a reality check by friends, film and music for much too long. He wore an Averix leather jacket with a white T-shirt underneath. His black jeans were loosely slung low under his ass held in place by a prayer and an appreciation for belt tension. Suzy knew his type well, whether they were in Kingston or London their life spans were short and sometimes as gloriously self destructive as meteorite burning on entry into the Earth’s atmosphere.
   Suzy Wong