a s t r i d
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She was a savage, a fucking brute. Unafraid to fight for what she believed in.
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"I honestly hate the sight of blood." Taylor commented, stepping over the puddles of crimson liquid splattered across the concrete.
I rolled my eyes at him, raising an eyebrow. "If you hate the sight of blood then why are you in a gang that's known for killing people?"
"Hey!" He exclaimed playfully, holding his hands up. "I haven't killed anyone yet today."
"What do you want?" I shook my head, "A medal?"
"That would be nice." He nodded his head, glancing at me with greed lingering in his forest green eyes.
My heart raced as our gazes met, an unfamiliar feeling of happiness erupted in my stomach.
"So this is what you do, eh?" I asked, studying the Viper symbol marked on the building wall. Blood decorated the entire area, like golden paint on a statue. People huddled in certain spots, no doubt being sold certain substances that weren't as uncommon as they used to be. "How are you all still alive?"
Tay sent me a lazy grin, "Guess we're the kids that you can never kill. Believe me, people have tried."
He pulled two handguns from his waistband, keeping one in his hand and holding one out in my direction.
I backed away, eyeing it with caution. "I don't like guns."
Taylor's arm didn't move. "That's because you were never shown how to use one properly."
"No." I corrected, "It's because I've been shot...many, many times."
He stepped forward, opening my fist and placing the gun into my open palm. "I won't let anybody hurt you, sweetheart."
I smiled internally, feeling butterflies linger in my stomach like a warm rose on a summer's day.
But, physically, I smirked at him, biting my lip seductively at the boy. "You want to protect me, Valentine?"
His lips moved upwards, and his head moved back as he laughed at my words. "Nah, just don't want to see my investment damaged."
I raise my brow at him, "So that's all I am to you? An investment?"
His eyes were playful, so I knew he didn't really mean it. The ice barrier in his eyes was slowly melting away, day by day.
"Unfortunately for me, you're seem to be more than that." He smiled, like actually smiled.
I swear my heart stopped.
Noticing a metal glint shimmer in his mouth, I held his face softly and moved it towards my own.
"You've got a tongue piercing?" I question, my surprise becoming apparent on my features. "Why?"
He smirked, "Want me to show you, Sweetheart?"
I step back, slapping his arm. "You're fifteen!"
"So what?" He shrugs, "Age doesn't mean anything anymore, you know that."
"We're still kids." I reply easily.
"I'm not." He shook his head, taking a step away from me. "I'm in a gang. You said it yourself, I kill people for a living. This is who I am. I'm not a fifteen year old kid who doesn't know shit about the world. I'm third in command in the motherfucking Vipers, I kill people, I hurt people. You're in a gang now. You're not a sixteen year old, clueless girl. You're a gangster, a killer. Get used to it."
"I'm a gangster," I acknowledge. His eyes met mine suddenly, and I felt like my breath had been knocked out of me after seeing the brutal honesty and despair littering in his irises. "But I don't have to be a killer."
"You don't always get a choice."
"We always have a choice." I trailed off, my breathing quickening as Taylor's fingers skimmed down my neck.
I closed my eyes as he traced the hideous scar permanently tattooed onto my body.
I hate it.
"Do you choose to get this?" He paused just above my collar, soft fingers gently pulling my chin upwards until our faces were just inches apart. "Did you chose this life?"
I didn't speak, lowering my eyes from his gaze.
"Just because I'm not a good guy, doesn't mean I'm rotten to the core. Just because I didn't have a choice, doesn't mean I regret who I am. I'll never lie to you, Arry. I might be on the side of the good guys, but no part of me feels anything towards what I do. That's why I'm good at it." He explained quietly, his voice fading into a delicate whisper. "We all have a beast inside of us. I just decided to become one with mine."
"Show me what I need to do." I whisper back, visibly swallowing the lump in my throat.
He held the gun back out to me silently, and I took it. It was heavy in my grip, despite being small in size.
"You're gonna have to do shit you don't agree with, to put fuckers down." He explains, "You need to work on your aim."
"That won't be an issue." I replied bitterly.
He studied me for a moment, before pointing out to a guy across the street who was stood with Devil. "Shoot him."
"What?" I exclaim, my eyes widening at his words.
"You heard me. Shoot him." He repeats, raising a brow in challenge.
Alexi's and Taylor's words echoed through my head while I stared at my 'target'.
"Sometimes we have to do things we don't agree with, but it is all in the name of a greater good."
He's just a kid. A year younger than me, if that.
"You kill or you die."
He could be innocent. Not everyone judged as guilty has committed a crime.
"When we're killing other people, things like good and bad, innocent and guilty, they can't exist. There's only us and the other side."
Everyone's guilty of something.
Moving the gun upwards, I aim towards the boy's head and without hesitating, I pull the trigger.
Nothing.
No gunshot. No echo. No shattering silence as the boy drops to the ground.
I knew I wouldn't miss the shot, I've never missed a shot.
The gun wasn't loaded.
My glare lands on Valentine harshly, but his eyes didn't waver at my callous stare.
He looked impressed, proud even.
"You didn't load the gun."
"No I didn't." He agreed, "That was a test."
"How'd I do?" I question emotionlessly, taking a deep breath.
"You passed."
"You're a dick." I spat, going to hit him with the butt of the gun.
Grabbing my hand suddenly, I felt how his entire body tensed up and his eyes become more alert. His other hand shot into his pocket, handing me another gun.
"We're being attacked. Shoot to kill." He demands harshly, grabbing his own gun and shooting into the air.
A swarm of people ran into the street, guns and knives at the ready. I tucked the gun into my waistband, knowing full well that I could easily defend myself with my fists.
Two men attacked Taylor swiftly, kicking and punching him until all the air was taken from him. His infamous pistol lay abandoned on the ground beside him, and all other fighters appeared too busy to defend him.
Stupid fucking Vipers.
Recognising them as two of Rogue's bitches, Elijah and Thunder, I grab one of their shoulders and punch them.
I roll my fists to keep them in control as two thunderous, brown eyes glare at me with the greatest hatred possible, vicious spite dripping from his growl.
With an animalistic cry, Thunder lunges at me with fury. Stumbling back in shock, Thunder refused to miss his opportunity and gets me straight in the jaw, causing my head to spin viciously.
Fuck.
"Don't you remember me, Thunder?" I taunt as we circled each other. His eyes flicker, yet no recognition is shown. "You're about too."
It's my fucking turn now.
An ensemble of lightning jabs and savage crunches, I surprise him with a hammering kick to the ribs. He grunts, trying his hardest to avoid any physical signs of pain yet I can see the exhaustion in his eyes.
He didn't expect it, I realize. He didn't expect a fight.
His face hardens and callous, brown eyes narrow. From the corner of my eye, I watch as Taylor easily takes down Elijah. The gunshot echoes like the sweet ring of death.
If Thunder wasn't resentful then, he definitely was now.
Watching his legs shift, I dodge the kick quickly, moving forward and aiming a decent hit on his head.
I aim once more but Thunder is quick. Not only does he defend her face against my uppercut but she delivers a full-force cross that has me thrown against the sidewalk.
Blood is streaming down my face, tickling my lips with the bittersweet, metallic taste. His face is mangled as well, worse than mine.
He doesn't say a single word, refusing to acknowledge me.
Me, the person he believes murdered his girlfriend.
Thunder knows who I am, he knows what Rogue accused me of. I know he knows, his punches speak louder than his words ever could.
Frustration decorated his features aggressively, a sharp glint reflected from his hand.
Bringing a knife to a street fight? Coward.
I grab his hand before it reaches my chest. He pauses as the shock threatens to overthrow him, but I didn't care.
Twisting his wrist back, I push the knife out of his hands and line my gun up to the back of his head.
"I'm giving you sixty seconds to get as far away from here as possible. If I see your face anytime again in the next 48 hours, I'm going to kill you." I hiss, taking the safety off so he could hear the severity of my words. "Don't believe me? Ask Lily about what happens to people who cross me."
"She never did anything to you." He growls back, "She was a good person; She was innocent."
"So was I, but that didn't stop you from killing me."