than me, it’s clear from his frame that he doesn’t spend most of his free time on the couch.
To make his life a little harder, I completely drop my weight and try not to notice when his muscles bulge from his skintight T-shirt. Who wears a t-shirt that tight when being a bad guy? Isn’t it restricting?
“Why’s your shirt so tight?” I ask as I skid along.
He doesn’t even bother to glance down at me, even though I feel like it’s a perfectly normal question to ask someone.
“Hey, Shepherd?” I ask.
Instantly ignored.
As he starts to pull me through a doorway, I hook my feet on the doorframe, one on each side. It draws him to a whiplashing halt as he tugs.
“Do you really think I’m going to just willingly allow you guys to abduct me?” I ask.
“Yes, because you don’t want to know what happens when you try this guy’s patience,” Rod says as he jabs a finger in Shepherd’s direction.
Shepherd doesn’t seem concerned in the slightest. There’s not even an ounce of annoyance taking over his face. He just gives me a little tug.
“Shepherd, I feel like you’re a man of reason,” I say as he gives me a harder tug while I fight to keep my feet locked in position. “Do you not see what’s wrong with this situation? I’m an innocent victim and I’m scared and alone and just want to go home.”
“So scared you’re worried about the tightness of my shirt,” he says.
“That was just a coping mechanism. I’m trying to keep from breaking down. Do you want me to break down?” I ask.
He shrugs and then just drops me. I’m not expecting it, so when I hit the ground on my back, my feet become unlocked. Then he grabs the hood of my sweatshirt and continues dragging me, but now he’s choking me.
“You’re… choking… me!” I cry as I grab for it.
He casually glances back at me as I duck my chin and raise my arms, letting the hoodie slide right off. I’m up on my feet and running for the door just as a man the size of a bull steps in front of it. I slam into his body and snatch up the gun at his side. What I’m planning on doing with it, I’m not quite sure at this moment.
“Back the fuck off or I will murder all of you,” I shout as I switch the safety off. “Death is on the horizon. Would any of you like to pray before I murder you?”
Shepherd starts walking toward me, so I swing the gun onto him.
“Stay back or I’ll shoot,” I growl.
He really doesn’t seem concerned as my finger hovers over the trigger. Does he think I won’t shoot him? Does he know that I have very little experience with guns?
“Give me the fucking gun,” muscle man yells as he lunges for me. I turn the gun on him as I realize how close he is and pull the trigger. I don’t really know what I’m doing, so I aim low, since that feels safer. He screams out as I jump, realizing that I actually hit the man, which is kind of funny because I think I closed my eyes. And now there’s blood spurting out like it’s reaching for me. And I’m pretty sure I’ve just shot a human and they’re going to die and their death will be on my hands.
I am a murderer.
Oh my god.
I have murdered this man.
“My fucking leg, you little fucker!” he yells as he stares down at it.
“I didn’t mean to murder you!” I cry.
The man doesn’t seem to be dying yet, but I’m positive I’ve killed him.
“It’s so hot in here,” I whisper as the blood races down his leg. “I really didn’t mean to shoot you. Are you dying?”
That’s the moment Shepherd steps onto the scene and yanks the gun from my hand before pushing me down to my knees so I get an up close and personal view of the blood pooling around the man.
I can’t even focus on anything other than that blood at this point.
“What the fuck is going on here?” another man asks as he pushes muscle man out of the doorway like he isn’t bleeding to death. No one really seems too concerned about any of this besides me. “You guys literally can’t handle a kid?” The instant I hear the man’s voice, I realize that I shouldn’t have stopped with the beefy guy. I should have shot them