b2b b2c infomations

It’s an extract from something I’m working on. I know it’s not too informative – it’s not supposed to be. I’m sixteen: that is not an excuse, it’s just something I would like you to consider.
I’d apprieciate it if you could tell me what you think. Just so you know: I hate the beginning few paragraphs. They don’t seem to fit in properly. “Tyler” is Chris’s last name by the way.
Constructive criticism would be nice.
Thanks.
The figure fidgeted impatiently, twiddling with the ends of his jacket. He pulled out a small box and brought a cigarette to his lips. Pursing it there, he lit it and enjoyed the flicker of warmth over his face.
He was in his usual position: hunched over, not drawing attention to himself; hood up, but wary. Inside his pocket he could feel the blade, a cold beacon of protection.
A precaution, just a precaution he told himself. He didn’t think he had it in him to use it.
His heart hummed in his chest – whether from fear or anticipation, he could not tell. Apart from the clink of broken glass at his feet, there was silence. It was calm – far too calm.
‘Put that out you tosser,’ Ryan spat, a voice from nowhere.
Chris’s fingers jerked and the cigarette dropped the floor and went out. ‘Don’t sneak up on me like that,’ he growled angrily, his heart still pumping erratically.
‘Oh shut up will you. Come on.’
Staring, he muttered in confusion, ‘Where are we going?’
‘To see the f*cking wizard, alright? Now, move!’ he hissed. He grabbed Chris’s arm and pulled him forwards, so that his trainer caught on the pavement and his body gave a lurch.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Ryan was like a scrawny little kid, Chris would have punched him through a brick wall. When people touched him, he was hit with a turret of emotions. Mostly anger, tinged with fear. He supposed it had something to do with his stepfather.
‘So where’s this wizard then?’
‘Street over.’ Ryan’s eyes glinted and scattered back and forth like rolling marbles. ‘I know the guy – he’s a w*nker. Ratted on me to the Thomas’s that I was nicking booze from their shop.’
Unease slid into Chris’s stomach. ‘What are we doing exactly?’
He’d heard Parker say that you were only a true member when you didn’t give a sh*t about nobody. That’s ok, he’d said, people like him were born not to care. He remembered how he’d been punched on the arm and told he was a f*cking legend. But that didn’t stop the discomfort in his stomach right now.
Ryan grinned in what he thought was a guilt free way; only he looked like his teeth were barred together. ‘Nothin’. He was in the war. Got a few army medals. Heard him bragging to my mum about it. They’re worth a bit.’
‘Oh.’ He didn’t like the feeling of dread that had lodged into his stomach, but he ignored it as usual and continued to walk.
Even though he was shorter than Chris by about half a foot, he was several paces ahead of him, and when he stopped suddenly they nearly collided.
‘Watch it, you clumsy pr*ck.’ Ryan scowled; his moods were unpredictable, but he generally stayed the same way: pissed off.
They had stopped outside a building with steel shutters on the windows and dark stains along the brick. Ryan forced the gate open, but steadied it so it wouldn’t clang. Shadowing him, Chris wandered in, glancing up at the closed curtains nervously.
Ryan seemed to be in thought; his head was tilted up thoughtfully. There was a window left slightly ajar on the second floor. He turned to him, a broad grin stretched across his face.
‘D’you want a leg up?’
His response was absolute. ‘I’m not going in there.’
His smile twisted into a sneer. ‘What’s the matter – you scared?’
‘No,’ he replied forcefully, anger rearing inside him; it simmered, but wasn’t bubbling over yet. ‘That could be his f*cking bedroom, man!’
‘Is little baby Chris too chicken to bust into the slimy old git’s house?’ Ryan laughed maliciously, enjoying his moment of fun.
‘F*ck off.’ Chris forced himself into his chest so he rebounded and nearly thudded into him again. Ryan was springy, and didn’t fall easy.
‘You watch yourself Tyler,’ he said dangerously, eyes narrowed. ‘You never know when you might slip up. And you know what’ll happen then, don’t you?’ He kicked a can violently; it clanged on a metal bin and ricocheted off the bridge.
Chris knew.
Ryan grinned wildly. ‘After you.’