Clayton arrived home with the door kicked it.
Sam leaning against the wall, his breathing shallow and uneven.
Clayton called 192 for an ambulance straight away, without even a thought.
The glass crunching under his feet as he crouched by his best friend's side.
"Fucking prick, those fucking little bitches! We didn't stand a chance Clay!" Sam said, his voice uneven with shock as he tried to move.
He looked up to Clayton, holding his palm against his shoulder. His lips tight with pain.
"Hold on Sammy," Clayton said, putting pressure on another wound on his stomach as he yelled.
FUCK! Sam was in a bad way Clayton thought.... His subconscious gave him a twenty-five percent survival rate.
"Ruth!" Daniel pushed past him as he ran to the small shadow of a person, leaning against the bathroom door.
In his panic, he scooped up Ruth in his arms. His face filled with fear as he cradled her face. Clayton could see the blood through her damp hair. Black and blue shades patches all over her body.
She was holding up her hand up as her missing left finger became obvious. Blood dripping down her palm and down her forearm.
Ruth signed, pain written all over her face as Daniel held her close.
P H I L I P
Clayton's blood drained from his face. Chills overwhelming his system.
Fuck!
"Clayton?" a small voice whispered as he turned towards the front door.
He saw Alice, she was holding herself. Tears flooding down her face. Arms crossed as her waist as her eyes flicked around the room, mostly darting between Samuel and Ruth. Her body visibly shaking as she sobbed.
"Alison. Look at me! I need you to focus. Go to Ruth's bedroom and grab her bag. It has medical supplies. Then towels. Bathroom," Clayton said, trying to keep her calm as her eyes flicked between Sam's fading body and Clayton eyes once again.
"He needs our help. Go!" Clayton yelled assertively at her, pointing towards the bedroom.
Alice backed up a little, before nodding. She quickly ran into the bedroom. Within seconds, she placed the bag down beside Clayton with a loud thud. She quickly ran to the bathroom and after hearing what sounded like glass breaking, Alice quickly returned with the towels, dropping them at her feet.
"Good. Thank you. Now, I've called the ambulance. Please, Alison. Go wait out for them. Just outside the door. Not the street. Understand?" Clayton said, he made sure he spoke a little slower, realizing Alice was starting to panic again.
"Alison!" he yelled a little louder, her eyes welled.
She nodded. Walking out the front door. Clayton heard her sit down on the front step.
"Clay. I'm sorry. Look, it's ok. I'm going home. Tell my mom and daughter, I'm sorry," Samuel said, emotion filling his voice.
Clayton looked down at him as he placed more pressure on his stomach. Sam groaned as Clayton worked to keep him alive.
"Don't Sammy. You are not going to die today. I promise!" Clayton pleaded.
He was so close to losing it.
Fuck! God. Don't you fucking take my best friend Clayton pleaded. His subconscious screaming towards the sky, Sam's blood on his hands.
Samuel's eyes closed, rolling back, as the ambulance pulled up.
"Sam!" Clayton screamed as the blue and red lights shined into the windows.
Clayton was grateful as the paramedics rushed in and shoved him aside to work on Sam. He stood up, unable to watch.
His eyes turned towards Alice. She was standing into the doorway. Wide-eyed and trembling. Clayton for the first time, didn't know what to do.
He just stood in the doorway, every emotion coursing through his veins. Sam's now dried blood covered his face and hands
There was a moment. It's as if Alice could read his mind. She reach out to him, her skin soft as Clayton grabbed her hand.
He made it two steps before collapsing into her.
They walked outside and it's then when Clayton finally lost it. He cried. For the first time in ten years, he actually cried.
Clayton didn't know what to do, he was losing everything. He pressed his forehead into Alice's shoulder. She didn't say anything, just held him.
"Allie. It's my fault. He's my best friend!" Clayton pleaded, completely breaking his glass walls he'd work so hard to put up.
Fuck! This is emotion. He is feeling. His subconscious dropped to its knees, crying as well.
"It's not your fault," Alice whispered, holding him tighter.
Suddenly paramedics came out pulling Sam out as he laid on a stretcher. Ruth leaning against Daniel for support.
His eyes flicked towards Clayton.
"Fuck! Sammy?" Clayton said.
"Don't worry about me Clay." Sam smiled, gasping for air as he was lead away into the ambulance.
Clayton stood with Alice, watching.
Daniel and Ruth soon followed, walking together to the ambulance, holding each other close.
Clayton saw Daniel glance towards his direction as he sat beside Ruth, his face was filled with complete defeat. Clayton watched as the doors shut, quickly driving away.
"You are going to stay here. I will be back," he said, leading her into the house as the sirens moved further away.
She sobbed harder at the thought of being alone.
"No. Please. Don't leave me," Alice pleaded, taking in deep breaths between every word.
Clayton grabbed her hand, pulling her into Sam's bedroom room with a little too much force.
"Don't come out. Hide. Wait until I come back," he said, trying to remain calm.
"No!" Alice cried, gripping onto his sleeve a little too tight.
"Hey! Alison. I will be back. I promise!" he said, trying not to raise his voice towards an already distraught Alice.
He was pressing his fingers into her shoulders as she stared at him wide eyed.
Stepping away, he walked back into his bedroom.
Scanning the interior. Clayton was pretty sure this was a drug house. No, he was certain.
Brushing his fingertips along the walls. He tapped alongside with his knuckles a few times.
Nothing but drywall. The heaviness of the wood, until it went hallow.
Bingo!
He took a few seconds, preparing his fist for impact. If he was right, the wall should be filled with weapons or as least some serious walking around money. Drug dealers don't hide away from displays of violence.
Clayton took three deep breaths.
"What are you doing?" Alice's voice sneaked up from behind him.
"Did anyone sweep the place at all? Because I didn't even think about it," Clayton glanced back, realizing that Alice was watching him, analyzing.
"Holy shit!" she said, completely surprised.
"My point," Clayton replied back and within seconds, with all the force behind his fist, punched the wall.
It stung for a second as he registered that there was an air-pocket.
He grabbed onto something soft. A leather strap? With a firm pull, it was dragged out, completely covered in dust.
He unzipped it, the best thing he'd heard since like ever!
A duffle bag full of weapons, a few knives' and an even a hand grenade. He made a note to be careful with the latter.
He checked the sharpness of the knife. Counted the several boxes of ammunition. He looked back in the hole. He saw at least 100,000 BRL, all compressed in blocks. Clayton even made note of a stack of drugs, just casually resting against the money, an old bloody handprint on it.
"Ok. Alice. I need you to stay here," Clayton said, as calm as he could.
"Fuck no! I'm not staying here alone!" Alice hissed, trying not to panic.
"Allie. Please. For fuck sake! Just hide. If anyone comes into this place and it's not me. Run. Run fast. Run to the neighbours. Better, get to the US Embassy," he said, trying to get her to understand the gravity of the situation.
She nodded, looking up at him with those big, green eyes.
He grabbed the bag, quickly grabbing his leather jacket as he moved into his bedroom. He changed quickly. Black clothing, nothing that would be easily noticed. He tightened the lace on his shoes.
The knife went in his back pocket. For safe measure. A last resort.
He had no idea what his plan was. He was annoyed. He was enraged. Clayton had had enough of Philip and his fucking mind games.
Probably it was a trap, but Clayton didn't care. He was vengeful, narrow minded. He wanted blood for hurting Sam and Ruth, especially Ruth.
As he placed the bag in the backseat. He glanced back at the house. Alice meekly smiled, closing the door.
She had promised him she was going to hide or at least run.
As he drove away. He looked in the rearview mirror and all he could think about was Alice, alone, this was for her as well
He went back to the hotel. Windows broken. Door busted.
Someone was looking for something or someone?
It was so quiet, not even the slightest noise from the square below. The horrid smell filled his nostrils again, this time in burned his eyes a little.
He put the bag on the bed, laying out the guns beside him.
Suddenly he heard footsteps leading up to the room. Clayton tensed, he was angry.
"That's your flaw my burly friend. When you're angry, you don't think straight, like a shark in a blood frenzy. Leaving Alice alone like that - dangerous," Philip's sickly voice creeped into the room.
He looked clean but a little thinner in his tailored jacket. He was standing behind two other men. One of them had an ugly face tattoo, that's all Clayton could identify.
Bodyguards?
Clayton stood up, meeting his gaze. They had fought a lot in the army, especially in bars and usually over the same girl. Regardless, they were friends at one point.
"You're getting sloppy Philip. Coming to my house like that. Ruth. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time she would move on from you. You did take her tongue after all. What did you expect? Honestly."
Clayton had Philip's full attention. He continued, "Is this what's it is all about? Under it all. Ruth?"
Philip stared at him blankly, that made Clayton uneasy. The words that followed cooled him to his core.
"Ruth is mine! Daniel took her from me. You allowed it to happen. Alice is the daughter of Richard. It's an opportunity, he's worth a lot of money, dead or alive. I finally get to take something that is yours. Helena was fun. Vanessa, a perk. Martha, a glowing beauty. I think it's only fair I now turn to Alice. I just fucking hate your family so much. I'm going to really hurt her and it's because of you."
"This is your last chance to walk away Daffodil," Clayton warned.
Philip laughed. Clayton was over talking.
They moved closer to one another. They both knew each of them rarely took prisoners.
Clayton grabbed a gun. Quickly shooting the two useless bodyguards with ease.
As their lifeless bodies fell to the ground, Philip threw the first punch. Clayton dodged it, quickly, with an elbow to his face, dropping the gun in the process.
Shit!
He went after his knees with quick, brutal hard blows that caused Philip to crumple to the ground.
As they fought, Philip and Clayton matched in hand to hand combat, equals in every punch and knowing when to block attacks. Philip was faster, more agile, but Clayton had the upper hand in both strength and aggression, punching harder every single time and not letting Philip gain any momentum.
Picking Philip up by the collar, he threw him like a rag doll out the non existent window onto the balcony. He groaned loudly as Clayton moved outside, glass crushed underneath his feet.
He was seeing red. He had a clear shot of Philip, as he looked down at him.
The fucker is still alive! It can't be this easy? his subconscious hissed, growing its fangs.
Clayton pulled the knife out of his back pocket. He needed silence, no noise. Noise attracted more attention. Clayton didn't need that right now.
Suddenly before he even realized, a adrenaline-masked pain that turned into a dull blank echo shot through him, usually when someone had a solid hit with the butt of a pistol to the back of his head.
Clayton was out, the last thing he thought of when the darkness took over, the one person he'd been thinking about for months...
ALICE