KBGM

Page Nine.

"When she came upstairs, she told me everything that happened, and why I heard a gun go off." His voice weakened, finishing the backstory.

"I did not know. It was that bad." I felt bad, triggering those moments back into Young's head, Owen sighed, laying back on the bed.

"I don't want to talk about our past anymore." He covered his face with his arm.

"Alright." I said.

"Take your clothes off," he demanded.

"What!" I shouted.

"It's nighttime. You have on a sweater and sweatpants, and I'm not trying to burn up in my bed." I got up, rolling my eyes, and heading to the bathroom.

"I don't see the point. Why can't you just change here?" He sat up.

"Because you're in the room and you're a boy." I folded my arms as he fell back on the bed, annoyed. I quickly changed out of my clothes into pajamas. When I went back in the room, Owen wasn't acting quite like the other days. The story must've been hard to tell. I got into the bed, warm arms went around my chest and stomach. "What are you doing?" I glanced behind me.

"Just holding you for a while." he said, closing his eyes. This was the only time I understood why they act the way they do, but it doesn't completely make up for the fact they kill people.

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It was the middle of night; the heat made it hard for me to fall asleep. Owen's grip wasn't as tight anymore, meaning he was already sleeping. I wiggled out of his arms, getting off the bed, and sneaking out. I tiptoed to the way, before closing it silently. When the door was closed all the way, the sound of mumbling alerted me.

"You're nothing..." A familiar voice came from downstairs, followed by the sound of glass. I went down the stairs slowly, looking around. "You're nothing but a slut, you're going to be nothing, just like your mom..." Young was walking around, swaying with a bottle in her hand. Her face had dried up strains where her tears fell from. I went to move down more, but she somehow heard me. She turned, aiming her gun at me.

"Easy!" I put my hands up.

"What the hell are you doing out of Owen's room?" She squinted her eyes.

"I was grabbing a drink." I told.

"You're not slick hoe." her voice was raspy.

"Better question is what are you doing?" I asked.

"None of your business." She sniffled, putting down the gun and the bottle.

"Well, since you are up, I just wanted to apologize for what I said earlier, and Owen told me." I stopped when I noticed her glaring at me.

"That's how you knew!" she yelled, grabbing me by my neck and tightening. "You just can't let shit go, can you?" my head banged against the wall as I began choking. "Just like I said, Owen won't be here to save your ass from me." Her grip only tightened even more until I felt it loosen. Owen appeared behind her, aiming his gun at the back of her head.

"Young, let her go..." he demanded.

"You are going to kill your own sister?" She turned her head to the side, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

"Young, you killed our father..." Young let go of her grip on me before turning around, moving closer towards his gun until it pressed against her chest.

"I killed him for beating you and raping me. He abused us, Owen, and you're telling a bitch that we don't even know about our past. Let me guess, you will kill me over her as well? Young asked, while Owen looked away. She shook her head in disgust. "Congratulations nigga, you lost your sister." She slapped the gun away from her, walking out of the hideout, slamming the door. Owen stood there, looking at the floor.

"I-I'm sorry, I just wanted to apologize to her," I tried explaining.

"Just go back to the room." He murmured. I walked upstairs while he was rubbing his face. I closed the door and looked at the mirror.

"Congratulations, bitch, you fucked up a gang family by opening your mouth." Even though Young was drunk, would Owen really kill Young over me? A girl they kidnapped and barely know about.

"My family had been fucked up." I jumped, seeing Owen laying back on the bed.

"Is Young coming back?" I asked.

"She never left when we had our other arguments, so I guess." he shrugged.

"Owen, I have a question for you." His eyes narrowed, waiting for the question.

"Would you really kill me over her? I mean, she is your sister." I spoke. Owen sat up, looking at me.

"It's hard... like I like you and I love my sister, and we've been through times... It's just hard to explain right now." He flew back, groaning.

"But that doesn't really answer my question." I raised my voice. Owen turned around, facing around me. I sighed, realizing this has all been a terrible night.