18 | The Damned

The intoxicating warmth of Pierce's body radiates into mine. With a sigh, I unwrap his arm from my waist and shuffle away. He tries to snuggle into the side of my neck, but I sit up.

My shirt is damp and sticks to my back like cling wrap. From the corner of my eye, I see Pierce shiver. He clutches onto the pillow and mutters something into the fabric. I feel bad about moving away, but I need to get out of here.

Climbing out of bed, I stretch my tired limbs. Pierce sprawls into the middle of the bed, unaware that I'm missing.

I sneak out of the bedroom and head back to mine, careful to avoid stepping on the creaky parts of the flooring.

Once I'm within the safe confines of my room, I strip out of the shirt and discard it on the floor. I find a fresh set of clothes and quickly tug them on.  

Collecting the rest of my belongings, I race outside the lobby door and emerge myself into the fresh air. By fresh, it's a stale smell of factory smoke and trash from the business across the street.

I'll take what I can get.

The cold air blows through my hair as I wander down the pathway. The metal device in my pocket is heavy, just like my thoughts.

As I progress down the dull quiet street, a small orange pole signifying a bus stop comes into view. Now that I'm free, maybe I can leave? I could pack that bag I've been dreaming about and finally do it.

Instead, I continue walking down the street. One day, but not today.

I end up at the foot of the alley where we dumped his body. Nothing has changed except for the missing body. We'd left him slumped beside the wall with his head hanging down, a burnt cigarette between his fingers. It's an easy image to accept, I'd seen it many times before.

When I was younger, I used to sneak out of my bedroom to steal food. Almost every night, he'd be slumped on the dirty rocking chair in our makeshift living room. The light from the television flickered across the room as the burning ember of his cigarette would fall into the ashtray beside the chair.

It was the one moment he looked peaceful. I hated that about him. How could he feel peaceful? The easy answer is that he was induced in a blissful drug-infused haze.

I could breathe when he looked peaceful.

Now that the body is gone, the ally is once again filled with more trash. When they collect the bodies, sometimes they take the trash. It's their way of clearing the issue away, acting like this town doesn't have a problem.

We all pretend we don't have problems. It's easier that way.

I step away from the ally, only to be confronted by two men dressed in ripped jeans and black tank tops. Their tattooed arms are bared, signs of their loyalty to certain gangs. One of them has tattoos across their face, a teardrop near their eye.

If they're fishing around the ally, they must be low-ranked. Ricky calls these guys bottom feeders because they'll do anything to crawl up the chain. They'll do anything which makes them terrifying.

'Show no fear, Scarlett,' I mutter in my mind.

Keeping my head low, I hurry away from the alley with the hope they won't notice me.

"Oi, you're Scarlett, right?" the taller one calls out.

"Um, yeah." I sigh.

"We're lookin' for your father, you seen him?"  

"I don't keep tabs on the guy." I shrug my shoulders.

"If you see him, tell him he owes us money."

"Okay." I nod.

I quickly walk away from the pair, but before I can get away, they call my name once more. My heart rattles inside of my chest, my hands shaking. I fold my arms to avoid showing my fear.

Playing nice, I turn around and smile, "Yes?"

"I think I remember you."

"Ay, what do you remember?" the other one asks.

The pair grin at each other like two cunning foxes.

"That he uses her for as payment. I'm ready to collect that payment. How about you?" The pair staggers forwards, greedy smiles consuming their faces.

I suck in a deep breath and remind myself to stay calm. You cannot show fear in the presence of danger.

"He owes you the money, not me," I explain.

"Maybe we can take a down payment, ay Johnny?" the second one suggests.

The pair gruffly laughs at their devious plan. Beads of perspiration gather on my forehead, giving me away. They stalk further towards me, so I bite my lip.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" they cheer.

Instead of running, I stand my ground. There's no telling how fast the pair could run or how far I'd get from them on foot. I've never been good at running, always tripping over something.

"I'm warning you. Stay away," I yell.

The first guy grabs my wrist and yanks me forward. My shoes scuffle across the beat-up pathway. He drags me towards the alleyway, so I scream. My throat burns and the look of horror only amuse them.

"Ricky will come after you."

"We're not afraid of Ricky," they giggle like children.

"You better be scared of me then." Elbowing him in the stomach, I kick his leg and drop to the ground. My palm hits the floor which sends a shape shooting pain along my wrist.

The guy quickly recovers and lunges towards me. I jab my leg in his direction, hoping to deter his efforts. It only makes the man angrier.

I have no choice, so I reach for my only strength.

Pulling the gun out of my pocket, I point the nose towards the man's head and pray I won't have to pull the trigger. It's cold and heavy in my hands, but easy enough to aim.

"This is your final chance," I warn. "Get out of here."

But my hands shake and my voice quivers. They know I'm weak.

"Put that –"

The sound of the gunfire echoes down the empty street. My heart relentlessly pounds within my chest, pumping adrenaline through my body.

Blood splatters across the pavement along with his brains on the building walls. His body falls to the ground like a toppling building.

The remaining guy looks at me, eyes wide open with shock.

"Do you want to be next?"

With a shake of his head, the guy quickly back steps and runs away, tail between his legs.

Shoving the gun in my pocket, I scramble to my feet and take off running. The lines of the buildings being to blur into one streamline of black as tears swell into my eyes. My heart races to the sound of my feet hitting the ground.

What the hell did I just do, did I really kill someone?

What do you think will happen next?