Red Writing Hood: Settling Scores

My response to the Red Writing Hood Conflict and Violence challenge.

This is actually a follow up to my Trifecta challenge response: Without Words, which I wrote when I realized I was going to blow the RWH word limit out of the water.

(So, do read that for background, though I suppose it's not strictly necessary.)

Gabriel and Elissa were part of my NaNo '09 (I can't believe it's already been two years) novel. This and the scene in "Without Words" is a part of their history (that I'm still learning about).

Also, this didn't turn out quite how I expected.... Oh well.

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Sam Waterson, all bravado and wagging tongue, strolled into the locker room, sporting a deep purple bruise around his left eye.

Gabriel, in his out-of-the-way alcove near the senior lockers sat up straight. In his mind, he could see Elissa, struggling, driving the heel of her hand against Sam’s eye and his mouth caught somewhere between a grimace and a smile before he shook away the image and settled back against the wall to wait.

Sam’s privacy streak was well-known gossip. He never entered the showers until the final stragglers were throwing shirts on their still damp bodies and shuffling from the room.

So Gabriel waited. When he heard the water start, he counted a minute in his head, then stood up and walked into the steam.

Sam, facing the wall and butchering some trendy song was unaware of the sticky thud of boots on wet tile, until Gabriel stood right next to him.

“What the f—“

Gabriel shoved Sam through the spray, pinned him against the wall with his left arm across Sam’s throat. Sam dug blunt nails into that arm and Gabriel hissed, pressed harder, pushing Sam up the wall until his naked feet scrambled for purchase.

Keeping his eyes on Sam’s, Gabriel reached into his pocket.

There was something about the swift, silky snap of a switchblade that always made people freeze.

Though in this case, Gabriel mused, it may have been the sharp tip of the blade pressed against the sensitive skin of his scrotum that had Sam’s features stuck somewhere between disbelief and fear.

“What’d she tell you?” Sam croaked.

“She didn’t have to tell me anything, Sammy.” Gabriel cocked his head, smiled. “And when we’re done here, no girl is going to have to tell anyone anything about you, ever again.”