It All Started With Hate

lock | part 2 (e)

On a mission, I stashed my gun in my jeans to move quickly. I grabbed a shirt from the dresser and wrapped my fist in it. In the bathroom, I dragged out a chair to reach the window. The house was only one story, so I didn't have to worry about the fall.

Ignoring the pain in my side, I positioned the chair and pulled myself up. I wasn't going to let it stop me, though. Not right now.

I didn't take the time to brace myself for the impact, cocking my arm back and slamming my fist into the window, but it wasn't shit like the movies, so it wasn't a one hit type of thing. It wasn't any help that it was expensive glass, either.

Despite the pain coursing through my wrists, I didn't stop until I had a sizable hole in the glass. I hadn't even thought of this shit until now. Not until it came to Luke's life.

I cleared away as much glass as I could before forcing my body through the window. Some shards grazed my skin, cutting and burning, but I pushed through. The pain didn't matter right now.

I landed on my feet, barely avoiding a stumble. I was out.

The man was on the other side of the house, not too far, not too close. I could work with that.

Moving quietly, I rounded the house to where I had last seen him, my feet lightly brushing against the lawn. I reached the other side of the house, staying behind the wall to avoid detection.

As I spotted the man, another gunshot rang out from inside the house. My heart raced, just as it always did, but I couldn't afford to get distracted.

My father had left this man outside for a reason—to take out Luke when all else failed. And that moment had arrived. Their men were dwindling, and soon, would be nothing.

The man, unaware of my presence behind the brick, rose from his crouched position and reached for his gun, but his fingers barely grazed it before he heard the click as I disabled the safety.

In the darkness, I saw his eyes widen with alarm as he fully drew his weapon and spun around, but it was too late. I couldn't afford to think about anything else; any hesitation, and he would seize the advantage.

My finger applied pressure to the trigger until the gunshot echoed in the night. My ears still rang from the sound even seconds after it had faded.

I didn't try to get it perfect. A bullet was a bullet. Mine apparently worked well, since after it hit the man, all movement ceased from his crumbled figure.

My grip had grown shaky around the gun. I felt my legs barely carry me to his stance, where the green grass below him had shaded red. I didn't know if my shot had killed him, but it still frightened me.

This was my first time ever having to use a gun on a person, and regardless of him being a terrible one, it didn't take away the lost of air in my body. I didn't know if it'd go away, but—

Bang!

My head jerked up to the kitchen window at the shot. My ears were too startled to catch whether or not a body had followed.

If it was Luke's, though...

I thought my heart had a bullet in it itself at the thought. It might as well if the thought became reality.

I couldn't head back to the room, now. I had to know.

Luke was going to kill me if he saw me, I knew that, but I didn't care. I didn't give a damn about putting myself first, or shit else. I had to know if he was okay before anything.

I pressed on despite the ache in my ribs as I circled the house. Climbing the front steps, I fought the pain that seared through my sides. I knew it would only get worse once the adrenaline wore off, but I'd deal with it later.