Carlton ✔

31| The Unfolding Fates

Before she seemed scared, but now, as she gnawed her teeth at Scar, her features stiffened. Her hold around the gun became tighter, and she pointed it towards him without my assistance.

"T-Tell me..." Her arms quivered. Her voice cracked as she screamed at him, tears flowing unchecked. "You killed Aunt Vivian, right?! Augustus made you do it, didn't he?!"

Her sudden outburst took me back.

Scar blew his hair out of his face. "You were always a tough, little lassie, Breanna. Always escaped from right under our noses."

Suddenly, Breanna turned off the safety of the gun, throwing daggers at Scar with her eyes.

But Scar was unaffected. He seemed to enjoy it. A scoff escaped his throat.

Bree was wailing now. "Why?! Why did you do it?! She was my only family!"

"Huh?" The nuance in his voice mocked her. "I only ever did was Boss asked me to. I didn't even know good ol' Vivian until...you know."

Tears were flooding down her cheeks now, misery consumed her face, breaking my heart into a million pieces.

I walked closer, hugging her from the back. Burying my face in her hair, I said, "We don't need his confession Bree. We have the evidence. Just shoot him."

Out of the blue, Scar's face twisted into a wide grin as he looked at us. Amusement took overtook his facade as he threw his head back and laughed petrifyingly.

My eyebrows curved downwards as I sneered at him.

"Ah! So much love!" He laughed. "I pray that one of you dies a painful death while the other one watches!"

A loud sound interrupted the beating of my heart.

The shrill gunshot sound shook my head as a bullet dug its way deep into Scar's forehead. Blood sprayed everywhere, as Scar's lifeless body collided with floor, his eyes wide open with dread.

Smoke erupted from the pistol that Breanna held. She had silenced us all. Everybody in the room stared at her with bewilderment. It was all so sudden.

The pistol slipped from her hands.

With a swift movement, she turned around and wrapped her hands around my waist. And just like that, she dissolved into a crying mess.

While I stood there, thinking about what Scar just said, with my eyes as wide as saucers.

*****

The plane ride was nauseating.

We were finally going back from Las Vegas to the Price Villa, in Boston; after a series of unfortunate events.

How am I ever going to explain this to my friends?

I laid on the bed, in our cabin, on the plane. Breanna sat beside me. She clasped my wounded hand, bandaging my palm with care.

Night had fallen upon us, washing the cabin with darkness, only illuminated by the faint moonlight from the airplane's small windows.

Her soft voice reached my ears over the silent hum of the plane's engines. "Just when your previous scar was about to heal, you got another one."

The air hostess had offered to bandage me but Breanna just gave her a death glare and shooed her away.

I was so proud of her.

I shivered when I felt her cold finger pads touch my abdomen, slowly lifting my shirt up. She traced the scar on my stomach, sighing. Our eyes met and she gave me a sad smile.