It’s not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog his daddy used to say. His daddy had been a big man, so what the fuck would he know about it. He brought out the fight in his boy, the hard way, and nicknamed his boy Runt.
+++++His daddy made him tough. His size made him ostentatious. He’d needed to stand out; from his clothes to his ride he always made an impression, loud. Being small he always had to prove himself, he had to be more violent, more extreme, more everything than anyone else.
+++++Driving up I-99 Runt found himself humming along to a chicken scratch country song. He fucking hated country music, but it was the only station his car picked up this far north of the city. His car was bright red and huge, a 74 Cadillac El Dorado with a white convertible top and matching leather interior, the exact opposite of Runt in looks and a perfect match in style.
+++++Dwight Yoakam sang about being a thousand miles from nowhere and Runt felt the same way. His crew had sold him out. Runt would have done almost anything for his crew if they’d have asked, and they knew it. They’d asked him to make a delivery. They’d set him up.
+++++The crew threw in with Hector Vaccaro. He’d supply them with all the meth they could sell. Working with Hector would be profitable for both parties. Hector demanded one hundred percent loyalty and proof of that loyalty would be Runt.
+++++Mikey ran the crew and Jesus was second in command. Runt had overheard a conversation between the two. Hector wanted a sacrifice, a lamb, as proof of their fidelity. Whoever made the first delivery wouldn’t be coming back.
+++++“Who’s gonna give up?”
+++++“Let’s give him Runt,” Mikey said.
+++++“Why Runt, he’s a good dog, always ready to fight.”
+++++“That’s exactly why. He’s got ambition; won’t want to be a street hustler forever. Someday he’ll bite us if we keep him on a short leash for too long.”
+++++A long moment of silence followed as Runt took in what he’d heard.  He’d been loyal, a good earner and recruiter. The dirtiest jobs were never a problem for him. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
+++++“Okay,” Jesus had finally said, “aint that what you do to a runt anyway, put him down, more milk for the big dogs?”
+++++They both had laughed at that. Runt had been betrayed. If their loyalty wasn’t with Runt – his wouldn’t be with them. He’d make the delivery, but he wouldn’t be anyone’s lamb. He’d have a surprise for Hector.
+++++Pulling into lot of the all-night truck stop Hector chose for the delivery, he drove slowly around to the back and saw three black Lincoln Navigators at the far end of the empty lot. He looped a small circle and parked with the ass end of his Caddy facing them, an easier exit if things went south.
+++++With one hand raised he opened the door and stepped around to the back. In the other hand he held his gun low, pointing at the ground and behind him. He knew holding a gun wouldn’t go over well, but pointing it away might soothes nerves a little. He was wrong. There were ten guns pointing at him the minute they saw his weapon.
+++++“Relax boys…easy,” he said softly and lowered his raised hand showing the cars keys he held inside.
+++++It was time to put his plan in motion. Runt slipped the key into the lock and popped the latch. It rose silently as he moved back a step. Hector and one of his men walked forward and looked inside then looked to Runt. Hector’s man reached in and removed the bag containing first payment.
+++++“You wanted one, I brought you two,” Runt said glancing to the heads of Mikey and Jesus laying face up in an open box. He saw a smile slowly form on Hector’s face.
+++++“I guess I’ll be dealing with you from now on.”
+++++“Yes sir, we gonna make us a bunch of money,” Runt said, as a smile slowly crept upon his own lips.

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Donald Glass

Donald Glass lives in Altoona, PA. He writes mostly about the underside of life that dwells in every city … including yours. He’s had work published in all the usual places online including Shotgun Honey, Dead Guns Press, Yellow Mama, Near to the Knuckle, Spelk, Out of the Gutter, Thrills Kills ‘n’ Chaos and has had 2 stories published in the Dead Guns Press anthologies Crime Scene and Dames and Sin.

Latest posts by Donald Glass (see all)

• Dyin’ Down The Road - November 6, 2017
• Perfect Timing - April 6, 2017
• Yard Work - October 31, 2015