𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

50 || Deja Vu

But I was miserable, in the mood to self sabotage, and who really gave a shit about me anyways?

A door slams shut.

I pause.

Sammy knew better than to slam a door in my house and when I look up to see a stick thin white boy glaring at me, my body tenses, before I realise I don't give a fuck.

I relax back into my seat and watch his face turn red as he fumes. "What the fuck did you do to my sister?"

I eye everything from his wrapped up arm to his old shoes. How this ugly motherfucker was related to her was beyond me.

But they were related. She was Danny's sister.

My gut was right.

I fucking knew something was up with her, and I would've figured it out sooner had she not been such a good distraction.

I was right to hate her, because this overwhelming feeling I had for her, made the distance away from her that much fucking worse. It's so bad that the mere mention of her makes me want to rip my heart out and shove it down Danny's throat until he suffocates.

"She hasn't said a word to me all week." He continues.

I bring the blunt to my lips and tilt my head as I examine his cast from where I'd shot him twice. It'd be so easy. I could have him dead in the span of the next seven seconds.

But I don't.

A bitter smile makes its way to my lips. "Not my problem you're a shitty brother."

"I'm not-" He starts but cuts himself off with a harsh breath as he shakes his head. An action that tells me he's starting to realise it too.

"You're no fucking saint either." His lips curl and his temper flares.

Maybe he was related to Josie.

They both had bad tempers.

Only unlike when her temper flares, this makes me want to put a bullet through his head. "What kind of man that claims to love someone, shoots her brother right in front of her and then makes her clean the blood off the floor."

My hand tightens around the glass in my hand and I wan forward and toss my blunt into the ashtray, ignoring the way my body itches to beat the shit out of him. "I don't fucking love her."

"Yeah, no shit." He scoffs, "A psycho like you doesn't even fucking know how to love."

Every bone in my body aches to do something. Snap his neck. Shoot his dick off. Suffocate him until his swamp coloured eyes dull.

But, I don't give him the reaction he wants. I wasn't going to kill him, and with the way he's staring at me like he wants to kill me yet has no weapon on himself, tells me that we may share the same reason.

Josie Dumont.

"What kind of brother leaves his sister behind in a cult full of rapists." I sit forward and despite the slight edge to my voice, my answer makes my blood boil.