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Part Twenty

   "I'm telling you the truth, okay? If I did what you said, they would be in that bag-"

   "Bullshit," The man muttered and grabbed Jamie by the collar of his shirt, bringing him up with a strength he didn't recognize existed in a single person, and he was left dangling a broken leg over the ground as he stared at the man with fear.

   "I don't know what you want me to do!" Jamie cried out, thrashing his good leg around midair as he grasped for purchase on the man's arms.

   "My friend said he wanted revenge," the stranger stated, staring Jamie dead in the eyes without blinking.

   "Th-then bring him here, we can t-talk it out, right?"

   "Talk it out?" The man growled, and Jamie realized his mistake. "You want to apologize for killing his family over a nice cup of tea? Is that it?"

   "N-no, that's not what I meant. Please, just let me go-"

   "Sure," the man said, and threw Jamie to the ground with a hard thud on his shoulder. The same shoulder that was grabbed so recklessly before, and Jamie screamed out in pain on impact. The man approached with a calm ferocity on his face that he hadn't ever seen on someone before, and he tried backing up as quickly as he could, coming to a full stop as his back hit against the bottom of his bed.

   "Please..."

   "Please, what?"

   "Just let me go, please. I won't tell anyone, I swear-"

   "Just like you won't tell anyone how you killed two people, right?"

   "That's not-" Jamie broke off his words the moment he heard the man's phone ringing in his pocket. He glanced down, pondering over whether or not he should see the caller ID.

   This was it. A tiny interval of time in which he could make a run for it.

   It caused for a momentary distraction, one that was desperately needed, and Jamie took the opportunity to scramble up with his bad leg, wincing in pain as he ran away crying for help at the top of his lungs in a split second.

   "Shit!" The man behind Jamie cried, and before he knew it, his eyes fell into the back of his head and black coated his vision with a thud.

   "Fucking shit!" Skip screamed out, stepping around the crippled body on the floor with hands waving around as if he could do something.

   Skip was on the verge of a panic. Seeing him laying there, unable to move in the slightest, had him realizing exactly what he had done. Everything caught back up to him, including his mental stability, and the morals that were previously thrown out the window. He slammed a kid into the ground to get revenge for parents that weren't even his to begin with. The worst part? Skip feared that, given the opportunity, he might do it again in a heartbeat.

   His phone went off for the fourth time in a row, breaking his concentration on Jamie for a split second, wondering how the hell he would explain what had happened to Sam.

   Again, the phone rang. At this point, the ringtone became a constant sound through Skip's ears, forcing him to whip it out of his pocket and press the little green button without even looking at who was calling him. It didn't take much to figure out who it was, anyways.

   "I fucked up," he whispered into the phone. "I really fucked up."

   "You...okay, relax. Take a deep breath, Skip, it sounds like you're panicking."

   It sounded like Leo on the phone, but he couldn't tell for sure. The only thing on his mind was the crippled mass of Jamie on the floor, stoic as a rock.