Chapter 10: Blood in the Yard
Even when Tea Bag leered at him with those hungry eyes, Tommy's fury had already been boiling. But he didn't lash out immediately. Instead, he played along—letting Tea Bag think he had the upper hand, letting him send away his lackeys.
Only then did Tommy unleash his wrath.
His fist, hard as iron, crashed into Tea Bag's face. Blood sprayed, his nose bent out of shape.
"You think you're somebody? With your pathetic tricks, you dare provoke me!?"
Another punch. Then another. Fists like sledgehammers pounded into Tea Bag's face, swelling his eyes shut, turning his skin into pulp.
The yard froze.
Everyone had seen fights in Redhaven. But this—this was different. Tommy wasn't brawling. He was breaking a man.
Tea Bag, the sadistic predator everyone feared, was nothing more than a rag doll under his fists.
Finally, whimpering and bloodied, Tea Bag croaked, "I surrender! I surrender, Veseydi! I swear—me, the White Gang—we'll never trouble you again! Please, just let me live!"
His words dripped with desperation. Tears, spit, blood—all mixed on his battered face. He looked ready to grovel, ready to lick the dirt if it meant survival.
Tommy drew back. He didn't need to kill him. That wasn't the point.
The display was enough. Every inmate watching now knew—if even Tea Bag, Redhaven's most vicious animal, couldn't stand against Tommy Vercetti, then who else dared try?
But Tea Bag wasn't finished.
He staggered upright, one arm trembling as he wiped blood from his mouth. His eyes, hidden beneath swollen lids, glimmered with hate.
"Hey, Veseydi," he rasped. "One last thing…"
And then he moved.
His tongue flicked. From beneath it, a razor blade slipped into his palm. He feigned weakness, stumbling forward—until suddenly he lunged.
"Say hello to the old man upstairs!"
Steel flashed, arcing straight toward Tommy's throat.
Tommy twisted, but not fast enough. The blade ripped across his forearm instead, hot blood splattering the dirt.
Pain seared through him. And his fury exploded.
With a roar, Tommy drove forward, his shoulder slamming into Tea Bag's chest, crushing him to the ground. He mounted him, knees pinning his arms, fists raining down like hammers.
"You think this is fun? You think this is fun, bastard?!"
Punch after punch cratered into Tea Bag's face, chest, ribs. The ground shook beneath the ferocity. Prisoners recoiled, stunned. This wasn't a fight anymore—it was a death match.
Tea Bag's blade flew from his fingers. His arms flailed weakly, trying to cover up, but Tommy's blows smashed through every guard. His face was a bloody ruin, his teeth scattered across the dirt.
"Stop! I surrender!" Tea Bag gurgled, voice muffled through blood.
But Tommy didn't stop. His fists were relentless, a storm of rage.
It wasn't until alarms wailed, boots thundered, and guards stormed the yard with batons and pepper spray that the beating ended.
They dragged Tommy off him, but his eyes still burned with fury, his voice carrying across the yard:
"You're dead, bastard! No one—no one—dares provoke me, Tommy Vercetti!"
---
Tea Bag lay sprawled, broken, a crimson pool beneath him.
Medical staff rushed in. Doctor Sara Tancredi knelt, her face grim as she examined him.
"His injuries are severe. Too severe. We can't treat this here. Call in a chopper—if we get him to a hospital fast, maybe he'll live."
"Damn it!"
Warden Hunter arrived, beard bristling with rage. His eyes swept the chaos—the beaten gang leader, the rattled guards, the hushed prisoners.
"What the hell were you idiots doing?" he roared. "How could something this big happen on my watch? Where's Belick? Get him here—now!"
Hunter's fear was justified. Tea Bag wasn't just any inmate—he was a gang boss. If he died, the White Gang would riot, and Redhaven could drown in blood.
But Tommy knew better.
His punches, savage as they looked, had been calculated. He'd avoided the vital points. Tea Bag was broken, humiliated—but not dead.
Enough to remove him from the game. Enough to send a message to everyone else.
Even the cut on Tommy's arm had been part of the play. He knew Tea Bag's reputation, knew a snake like him would try something dirty.
And by letting himself get wounded, Tommy had bought himself sympathy. No solitary. Straight to the infirmary instead.
Exactly where he wanted to be.