GUN IN MY HAND

CHAPTER 49: FOR DOROTHY

Didn't he know how she shot? Even in the distance and darkness, she never missed a target.

"Oh no... it's..."

"Do you ever finish a sentence?" I groaned, throwing my first glance around, mainly to shoot that bastard daggers.

I didn't fucking care whoever she'd killed. For all I knew, she could have killed the president; I would still cover her at all cost, and from the bloodstain spreading on a white shirt, maybe I wasn't far from the truth. Who even wore this at the Drillin'?

"Douglas Thornton," she whispered his name like a curse, making me snap my head back to her.

Maybe she wasn't as lost as I'd thought. She'd aimed carefully, knowing who it was. The question was: why?

But I quickly got my answer when her ex announced, "The girl looks fine. She must have passed out with the shock."

It was his first real sentence, surely because he was finding his bearings, feeling a pulse under his fingers as he checked the girl's bruising neck. Just this glimpse along with the fresh red mark on her cheek made it pretty clear what had been happening, and when I caught sight of the dead man's face, there was no doubt left.

Of course, my Shooting star wouldn't have taken an innocent life, and my lungs were already filling with breath and pride again as I turned back to her.

Though my praises were cut off by a loudspeaker echo.

"Police, nobody move!"

It must have been coming from the main room, but we didn't have much time, and as I rushed to close the door, my instincts were right. Footsteps and dog barkings were already echoing from one of the many hallways.

"Fuck, you called the pigs?!"

"Me?! When do you think I could have? You were with me, and why would I when I'm the one who brought the gun?"

Great! He'd found back his tongue, and I lashed out at the door handle to not make him swallow it.

"It could be anyone at the bar."

"We don't call the pigs here," I snapped back at him.

The door had no lock, and I was left to pull at the roots of my hair with my right hand to not move the fingers of my other one.

It would have taken just a little push of the trigger... I wouldn't even have needed the gun. With the mix of anger, frustration, and adrenaline brewing in my veins, I was one ingredient away from wringing his neck, my hands already twisting and tingling in my hair.

But killing him wouldn't solve anything. It wasn't the time. Killing him wouldn't solve anything; I repeated myself.

I wasn't alone in this. Dorothy was here, and she was my priority. Seeing the state of shock she was in, and Captain Obvious over here, it all depended on me.

"Whoever called, if the police find us here, we're screwed."

"They won't. We just need to get away quickly." As if to add dramatic effect to my words or just make our hearts tick the seconds faster, steps and shouts echoed louder from all around, and both Dorothy and Spencer jerked their heads towards every corner.

It was the thing about this bar – or labyrinth, as Dorothy called it – it was made of a maze of rooms, hallways, and corners that were forming the perfect base for the gang, confusing all the outsiders. But even if I knew every corner, stepping in it with pigs plaguing and running around was toss-up. Alone, I would have already rushed there, but seeing Dorothy's aghast eyes, I was paralyzed, searching for an impossible safe option.