Gunshot

Chapter 6

Jace's pov

Three weeks have passed and Chris's training really seemed to have an effect to them. They are better at their aim, they're much more faster and their 'parkour' skills are an extra bonus. I might even pay Chris and his guys for it.

We just got done for the day and decided to go out for coffee, again, like every, single, day.

"I honestly have no idea how you learned all these tricks" "Guess I'm always full of surprises", he shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, "Just know I was going to pay you but now that I see I'm already paying for your coffee, you already got your money", his eyes widen and looked at me in disbelief, "That sucks dick, well I'll get my money one way or another". I rolled my eyes, "Right".

He stretched raising his arms, his hoodie he always worn decided to show some of his wrists as he stretched. I didn't think much of it until I saw a few lines, like that seemed to be dried blood, "Hey, can I see your hand real quick?", he looked at me questionably, "Uh sure, which one?" "The right one". He put his hand on the table, his palm facing the ceiling. I took his hand and started lifting up his sleeves. When I tried to he just retreated his hand quickly, "What's that on your wrist?" "Skin" "No the scratches", he fell silent.

He let out a long sigh before lifting up his sleeve and placing his arm on the table. His arm was covered with cuts, he was cutting, "What happened?" "I was cutting Sherlock, but not anymore". Worry started filling in, "Why did you cut yourself?" "I'll tell you but not here so just wait".

We finally reached the building and went to the break room, "So are you gonna tell me what happened to you?". He let out a sigh, "I do hope your ready to hear my shitty story 'cause it's kinda a long one", I sat down comfortably ready to hear.

"Well uh, the reason I was cutting was to distract me, from my dad" "What did your dad do to make you cut?" "That's the part where it's a long story". He leaned on his seat looking at his cuts as if admiring a brand new gun.

"When I was little believe it or not, I used to be harmless as a fly. I was in a happy loving family, only child by the way. My life was great, unfortunately that was about to come to an end, boy, we hit rock bottom once we figured out bills were pouring down on us. We weren't poor but we weren't rich, just enough to keep us going. My mother started working multiple jobs while my father took some night shifts. My father eventually got fired from his job and was stressed out so much he turned to alcohol for a solution.

He became addicted, when we ran out of alcohol he grabbed some money my mother worked hard for and went out to buy as much as he could. When she returned from work one night she noticed there was way less money than there was. She asked about it until she discovered the empty bottles. My mother and father had this huge argument, never heard them yell at each other, never seen them fight either.

I went to my room because I didn't want to get involved, I was just a kid, what was I, nine.. maybe ten? I don't remember. But when I went back into the kitchen where they have been fighting I only saw my father standing. From that point on, I knew it was going to be one hell of a ride.", he laughed a bit as if was funny. This isn't funny at all it's, sad. I never thought the most wanted criminal and murderer in New York would had lived like this when he could've been a huge successful individual.

"What happened next?" "My father used the rest of the money to buy himself more alcohol, when a bill came by he refused to work so, I stepped in. I stole wallets, food, and other belongings, I took in several small jobs and took care of the bills myself. I got us going, slowly but surely. I paid everything by myself, learned everything by myself, grew up, by myself. I never went to school properly, so I didn't know some things others did.

My father was only an alcoholic but soon then was getting horny. When I came back from work one night I found my father drunk making out with a woman. I was like, 'okay I don't want to know how that happened but I ain't getting involved and I ain't gonna stick around to find out'. I went to my room but after a bit later on I came back to get a snack, while I was doing that the woman decided to get all slutty and started saying stuff about me working at a young age making lots of money. Apparently she just wanted money and sex, she got sex but not a single penny of the money I made.

He started inviting more and more women and they all asked for either sex or money. It's been going on for a few weeks until no more women showed up. My father was not happy and started to release that anger to me by abusing me. Just some punches, stabs with broken empty bottles, and a few cuts, nothing too big." "That's not something you shouldn't worry about, it's cruel and you know it!" "I know, but let me finish, here is the reason I cut, to distract myself. I use cutting to cope with the pain my father brought up to me.

It was satisfying to me to see a single cut let out so much blood. I knew I was a psycho when I saw blood didn't bother me and I started wanting to kill him.

I finally knew it was enough, what he was doing to me just killed me. The abuse, the names, starvation, it was just killing me. When I finally confronted it up to him he just threw a bottle to me, I was so used to the pain I didn't feel it. I knew that if there was a time to kill him, it was now.

I really should've chopped his head off because when the police arrived there was no body. That's where I started living freely, no rules, no pain, no suffering. I made the gang one by one, trained them, and they are who they are. I don't take their freedom away, I like to give them that."

To be honest, I didn't know he would be in that situation. He just acted like it was an accomplishment to survive, it was but, it's not a joke. That's why decided to be a criminal, he just wanted to be, free.