lethal | hs

/72/

~~*~~
'Hot Shot'

Without thinking, I left.

I left Ross with Niall, I left the paper unsigned, and I booked it. I grabbed Niall's keys and took his car, swerving full speed down the road. He didn't stop me, neither of them did.

I don't see how any of this can be fixed with the route that I had planned. My identity has been leaked, Ross is blackmailing me, and now I'm not even sure that the police are going to cooperate with me.

I can't turn myself in unless I have all of the evidence. Not some chunks of it that I've gathered from the dealership. I need a confession from Eric.

And that's exactly where I'm headed. To his house.

I've thought it all through. There isn't anything else for me to do. If I go to Brooks' birthday party, there's a good chance that everyone there already has heard the news about Harry Styles. I'll be walking myself straight into trouble. Going to see Eric isn't a smart decision either, but there are no smart choices in this situation.

All I know is that I'm not running again. I'm going to try my best to fix this, all of it.

I slide out of the car, staring ahead at the Reeves' home. Ross built up a lot of anger inside of me, and being here is just making it worse. I tighten my left fist by my side, stepping through the grass as I lead myself over to the front door. I don't have a very stable plan, but I'm trusting myself. I know what I'm doing.

"Hey!" a voice calls from the opposite end of the front yard, over near the garage. I look over to see Landon storming over to me, "What are you doing here?"

I start my sentence, prepared to make some bitchy comment towards him, but I stop myself. He looks like a mess. His nose is all bandaged up, his hair is barely brushed, he's not even wearing the classic Landon attire. He's in a dark hoodie and a pair of stained sweatpants. If it wasn't for his screechy voice, then I probably wouldn't have recognized him.

Molly fucked him up.

I ignore his comment and head for the front door. Clearly, he hasn't gotten the news about my identity yet, so that saves me some trouble.

"What are you doing here?" he repeats.

He probably knows what Eric did, though. Their entire family is psychotic.

"Answer me," he follows me. He rushes in front of me, blocking me off. From his pocket, he pulls out something I didn't expect. A gun.

I raise my hands up. "What the fuck? Why do you have that?"

"Self-defense," he hisses. "I just bought it."

Honestly, now that I'm looking at it, I'm not that alarmed. He's holding it wrong and his hands are shaking. It doesn't even look loaded.

Nonetheless, I play along, "Self-defense? From what? Me?"

"Yes, and I'm not scared to point it at anyone else who tries to hurt me," his breath hitches. He looks terrified. Ironic.

I grin, "Is this about Molly?"

He lowers the barrel of the gun, "What? No, no-"