Territory -Jogan

I don’t even know what this is. It just came. Gangwars!Dalton? (shrugs) 

A spark.

That’s all he sees before the building blackens and terrified shrieks are heard as gun shots fire and champagne glasses crash to the floor, their substance running away from the now crushed glass and causing people to slip as they run blindly away.

The blonde whips around off the bar stool, his own whiskey glass shattering as it hits the marble bar top. His eyes adjust quickly to the darkness as he dashes behind a large marble column. People have scattered, and from what he can hear no one is dead.

He blinks, barely breathing as a slow smirk works its way onto his expression. His hand reaches for his gun on his belt and he grasps it tightly, fingers coiling around it as he pulls it out slowly, without making a sound. He’s had too much practice to make a sound.

Then there’s a distinct cry—A fake one he knows all too well— as someones back hits the wall. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip where he’s bitten too hard and it has now started to bleed. He can taste the copper as someone shushes another person. He isn’t sure exactly how many people are in the room but—

The light flickers on and he whips around, back pressed tightly to the column. There’s nobody either side of him, and nobody in front of him. That means there’s one or more people in behind him. Thank god the column is big, he thinks, as he turns around. Squaring himself to his full height, he turns ever so slightly to look out.

The bullet narrowly misses his left temple, causing him to duck back in. Whoever it is, there’s only one person.

Think, he tells himself calmly as he hears footsteps retreat. Another small smirk works its way onto his face.

He dives, right onto the floor, rolling quickly to behind where the piano is and shoots. He catches a sight of dark hair as the figure retreats behind a column across the room, not far away from him. But the column is way too thick and grand to be shot through, no matter how much he’d just love to blow it to smithereens. 

“Lo—!”

The second cry—That may seem like real terror to anyone, but to him he knows is just fake from practice— is cut off as more bullets sound. Logan whips around to the side to see his best sniper being held captive by a man in black, a single yellow badge on his chest.

Hanover.

The realization of his fellow rival gang holding his best sniper hostage makes him sneer to himself. He watches the gunman hold his partner at gunpoint.

How the fuck did they get Julian? He thinks incredulously. He’s like a fucking cat—Even I can barely tame him.

“Hello, Wright.”

Logan hides his confusion and stands up straight. No bullets come, but Justin Bancroft—Hanover’s leader comes out from behind the column, wearing the same attire as his partner who he now realizes as Abbot. Danny Abbot. Hanover’s future leader if anything were to happen to the current one.

“Bancroft,” Logan responds easily, watching Julian from the corner of his eye, but his main gaze is focused on the Brit in front of him.

The Hanover merely smirks, cocking an eyebrow slightly as his finger curls around the trigger, though he doesn’t raise his weapon. But it’s not like he’s afraid to.

Logan does the exact same, with no qualms about shooting the Brit straight into the chest if he steps a foot out of line. Though he’s not stupid, Logan himself knows Bancroft is a very well known murderer, like himself. He’s not one to particularly go after people personally—Nah, he’s got people for that. The exact same way Logan does. In fact, Hanover is usually the gang who attempts to make peace between the Stuarts—Logan’s gang— And the Windsors—Charlie Amos’s gang.

Though Logan is also very aware of the fact they have formed an alliance. They’d never attack Stuart territory at the same time because while they would be twice the larger group, Stuart is home to some of the best in the business. Hanover may specialize in weaponry and Windsor in dirty tactics, but Stuart specializes in brains and common sense.

Not to mention most of them have murder charges on their backs, and have yet to actually lose a gang street fight.

“I’ve warned you about threading on Hanover territory, Wright,” The gang leader recites in his usual British taunting accent.

Logan merely rolls his eyes. “I’ve warned you about numerous things, including sneak attacks.”

The brunette’s smirk widens, blue eyes flashing with amusement before they darken considerably. With a flick of his wrist, he snaps his fingers, and a sharp cry is heard though Logan doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. He doesn’t move even though it’s Julian’s cry of pain—One that sounds horribly real— as he’s pretty sure there may also be a knife threatening to slice into his back. He knows Julian’s capable of getting himself out of that sort of position. It just takes time. 

“Are you really wanting to challenge me on my turf with your best man at gun point?” Justin asks, cocking his head to the side mockingly, making Logan want to laugh.

Instead, he licks his lips and looks down at the other with obvious disrespect.

Bancroft hates being disrespected. Especially since he’s some sort of “royalty” in these parts.

“I see your.. leadership status has been challenged,” Logan replies, unaffected. He sees Julian’s eyes narrow, and he realizes Julian has found a way to wriggle his way out of Danny’s grasp. He just needs to distract Bancroft.

“Oh?” The other replies, lifting an eyebrow. “By whom?”

“Your very own member,” Logan responds, smirking slightly as he sees the others eyes narrow in obvious confusion. “Didn’t get the memo, did we not, Bancroft? That’s interesting.”

Justin lifts his head. “And whom, may I ask, is spreading such a thing?”

Logan smiles, sugary sweet. “Now that would be telling.”

A gunshot fires, and Logan dodges it with complete ease.

He tsks. “Temper, temper there.” He coos mockingly. He watches as the temperature in the room shifts in a split second, because the next cry of pain—That he’s sure is real— comes from Justin’s very own partner in crime.

Julian, with the agility of a cat, drops down like a bag of stones when Danny winces at the gunshot, and before the Hanover gunman can even think, he’s got his face pressed to the floor, Julian’s knee on his back, a knife at his throat and the Hanover’s gun in the Stuart’s hand, holding it at the back of his head.

The Stuart grins up at Logan. All teeth. All promise. Logan nods discreetly.

If Justin is worried, he doesn’t let it show as the second gunshot fires.

Logan doesn’t move as Julian leaps back to his feet, pulling Danny with him and using him as a shield, both weapons still held firmly in his hands, both still in places where he could kill Danny at a blink of an eye.

Justin isn’t willing to risk that as he lowers his weapon the tiniest fraction. He knows Julian may be small, but he’s quick thinking and strong. He’s learned well. Now is not the time.

“I think you may have an…” Logan searches for the word. “…mutiny on your hands, Bancroft,” He smiles. “You may want to choose the people you trust wisely.”

The Hanover snarls in response, dark eyes flashing, and it’s a promise to find out what’s going on.

“If so,” He finally says, voice level. Calm. Nonchalant. “Why would you warn me?”

Logan smirks. “You know I fight fairly, Bancroft. What fun would it be to see you be taken down by anyone but me?”

The other seems to consider this, though his gaze doesn’t falter from intense green eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were working from the inside.”

He laughs. “Like I just said, why would I want to give anyone else the satisfaction of taking you down?”

“Less time inside?” The Brit retorts, smirking faintly. “This to me seems like mind games.”

The blonde shrugs, leaning back almost casually against the piano, though he still looks out of the corner of his eye all the time. Julian still has that knife right at Danny’s throat, gun at his back. There’s no chance of anyone harming Julian right now. Justin would definitely not shoot one of his own men.

“If you want to believe that,” Logan responds, grinning a little when the other seems to deflate, ever so subtly. “Be my guest. Warning signs, Bancroft.”

“Take this as your warning, Wright,” He snaps, patience teetering a little. “Walk into my territory again and I will not hesitate to shoot you dead.”

Logan smirks. “I would be ever so disappointed if did you let this happen again on your watch,” He taps his finger on the side of his gun. “Your rein is slipping, Your Highness.”

The Hanover scoffs. 

Logan knows he’s gotten through. He’s planted the seed. Now, all he has to wait is hear about the Hanover members being shook down, and it’ll just be a matter of time.

“Julian,” Logan calls calmly, eyes still trained on Justin. “We’re leaving.”

The slender brunette drops Danny to the floor like a sack of potatoes, the other coughing as Julian had been holding him too tight, almost suffocating him. He smirks down at the Hanover, giving him a small, mocking wave and stepping over him, walking back calmly to stand behind Logan, as tall and as boldly as ever.

Justin watches, seething internally as Danny makes his way to his feet and stands behind him.

“Until we meet again, Bancroft.” Logan tells him airily and lets his weapon drop to his side as does the Hanover. He watches as the Stuarts turn their back to him, and it’d be so easy to top them both right there and then. But not really, because he knows it’s a cowards way out to shoot from behind. And he’s also aware that they’re both too smart to fall for that. They’d have a plan. But regardless, they walk out.

“Jus—” 

“Don’t.” Justin cuts his friend—His partner off shortly. “Sydney is waiting for me.”

Danny nods and follows Justin out of the back exit.

Meanwhile, outside, Logan merely appraises Julian as he leans up against another large marble column. The place had emptied quickly too, with no one in sight. They watch as Danny and Justin leave in a blacked out car, unaware to their watching eyes as the car skids roughly out of the parking lot, the screeching noise the only thing heard in the dead of the night.

Julian turns back to him and smirks, eyes narrowed as he pushes himself elegantly off the column and walks towards him noiselessly, leather jacket now open and flowing behind him in the light wind, while it’s rolled up at his sleeves.

Logan watches, one eyebrow arched as Julian steps into his personal space and merely smiles.

“One day closer.”

The blonde nods and seizes Julian roughly by the hair, pulling him within a hairs breath of his mouth. 

“One day closer.” He repeats before seizing him in a hungry kiss, to which Julian responds.

They pull back, and Julian steps back, smirk still firmly in place with a dark glint in his eye.

“Let’s go home.”