𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

35 || The Right Thing

My hands tighten around the gun in my hand knowing damn well he wasn't referring to it and instead referring to the lit cigarette.

I wanted him dead.

I lift my head along with the gun but pause at the sound of the second voice coming from right next to him.

"Nico?"

Curious brown eyes find mine and she tilts her head, completely oblivious to the danger she's in by standing next to a man like him.

"What are you doing?" I snap at her.

She blinks, pursing those pretty pink lips. "Nothing."

Exactly.

That was the problem, she never did anything. Never fought back, never defended herself, never got violent.

It was going to bite her in the ass one day.

"Come here." I rasp, the sound of my voice, one I never used with her. It was too harsh and rough but she wasn't listening.

I was trying to help her.

"Stop it, Nicolò." He places a hand on her shoulder.

My blood begins to pump at a faster rate than the pounding of my heart. My hands shake at my sides and my vision blurs until all I see is red.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off." I seethe.

Bambi takes a small step back and he tsks pulling her further into his side. "You're scaring the poor girl."

His hand trails down her side but Bambi's too preoccupied staring at me to realize what he's doing. She's too naive, trusting, sweet.

She didn't know what he was capable of. He was going to ruin her.

I raise the gun in my hand and point it at him, I'd kill him before he could do any of that to her.

But she steps to the side, in front of him, "Nico... you're scaring me. Don't hurt him."

"Move." I tell her, my gaze focused on the Italian man behind her.

Panic rises in my chest as his figure slowly disappears until all that's left is a stranger in the form of a ghost.

But it still doesn't shake the urge I have to kill him.

Her lips begin to move and my hands shake. "Josie, get out of the fucking way." I physically have to force my finger away from the trigger.

I had a perfect shot, it'd kill him, but the bullet would need to go through her first.

My fingers tremble and it gets harder the more I stare at the empty figure behind her.

I wanted him dead more than anything.

"More than me?" Her soft Bambi eyes are the last thing I see before my hand rears from the impact of the shot and a high pitched scream pierces my ear.

Heart hammering, hands trembling, I bolt up in my bed as low shallow breaths escape past my parted lips.

My eyes snap to the small light behind the plastic sun plugged into the wall that dims in comparison to the sun rising in the horizon beyond the windows.