Seven

Chapter 88

Once retrieved I turn back to the intruder, holding the gun out in aim of his mass. A perfectly large target for my inexperienced precision.

"Stay back!" I warn him and his hands raise immediately, caught off guard by my weapon.

"Now, now princess." The man instructs but continues to walk forward.

"I said stay back!" I jolt the gun forward to solidify my threat. He halts his movements though I get the feeling he isn't exactly scared of me and my gun. I'm sure he's been in this situation before, I'm sure a lot of the members of Seven's gang have had guns pointed at them - including Seven.

"You sure you even know how to handle that thing?" He taunts, the sneer on his stubbled lips mocking me. I grip the gun harder, desperate for him not to notice the slight shake to my hands. I don't know if it's adrenaline or fear causing the diminutive quivers spasming over my body, but they make it difficult to control the gun.

I know I don't intimidate him, so I point the gun to his leg. Choosing the limb in the hopes it will injure him enough so he can't pursue me as well as sending a message. When I pull the trigger I brace myself for the slight kickback I remember occurs when firing a gun like in the warehouse. But the kickback doesn't come, nor does the loud bang that comes when the bullet leaves the barrel, in fact the bullet never leaves the barrel at all. The only reaction I get from the gun is an empty, pitiful clicking noise as I pull the trigger over and over again.

Oh fuck.

Seeming to realise the gun isn't loaded the same time as I do, I glance up to the man who now grins at me. A twisted, unnerving smile and my stomach drops. I drop the gun and try for the cupboard again in the hopes to grab another gun that might be loaded. My hand reaches for a shot gun, fingers barely brush the metal before I'm ripped back at force. In a second my back hits hard against the other wall as I'm flung backwards with ease. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, winding me and I slump to the floor. Crawling to my hands and knees coughing while trying to gasp for more air.

"Not so tough now are we?" I hear him speak from above me, his shined boots step directly over my hand, crushing it under his weight.

"Ah!" I cry out at the pain as he wiggles his foot down a little more purposely, grinding my hand further into the floor in the same way a cigarette is stubbed out on the pavement.

"You think you can pull a gun on me?!" He taunts before a blow is delivered to my face from his boot, the force of his kick flipping me over onto my back. My eyes water at the painful numbing sensation spreading rapidly across my face, and I can taste the blood in the back of my throat as it begins to flow from my nose.

The man stands over me, his eyes black and soulless as he smirks down at me. I scramble backwards along the floor, attempting to flee his assault and put as much distance between us as I can. But he is too quick for my humble escape, picking me up off the floor by a fistful of my hair and pinning me against the wall with his other hand wrapped around my throat. My nails claw at his hold around my neck, though he isn't completely cutting off my airways his grip is still painful.

"The more you fight back the more I will." He snarls before pulling my head forward to then slam it back into the wall. The back of my head aches instantly and I have to blink a few times to adjust my blurring vision. The pain doesn't come as strongly this time as I had expected, I feel the blows but the adrenaline racing through my bloodstream is helping to numb the injuries as I focus on my next move for survival.

"Such a pretty face." I can smell the tobacco on his breath with how close his face is to mine. I turn my head to the side and he leans in closer to me. For a second I think he may try kiss me, but he doesn't. Instead he takes a deep breath through his nose as if he's trying to smell my fear before saying, "It's a shame I'm going to have to mess it up." His finger makes a single stroke down my face from my temple to my lip and something in the way he's touching me causes a chill down my spine while simultaneously igniting a defensive rage inside me.