When you think of heroes, you see capes and masks, but what about the scrapes and bruises? The etched scars that are permanently tattooed onto their skin and in their hearts.
Cassandra Fields is a rookie firefighter looking for her purpose in the w...
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CRENSHAW, CALIFORNIA DECEMBER, 18, 2008 10:32 P.M.
"LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO CASSIE!" The raspy voice of Cassandra's ex-boyfriend, Bryon Jones, echoes through the run-down motel room that he had brought her to after he abducted her.
The sound of her pants and his incoherent mumbling were beginning to drive her insane as she clutched her waist. The sticky, metallic substance stained her finger as she stared at the boy she once loved in disbelief. How could he just shoot her?
"Bryon, b-baby—" Cassandra cried in pain on the shaggy carpeted floor, "Babe we can make this work, all you gotta do is let me go. We can still be together, but we can't if you let me die."
Bryon crouched down next to the injured girl, and for a second she caught a glimpse of the boy from freshman year, but as quick as he was here, he was gone in an instant. His eyebrows furrow as he stared at Cassandra in deep thought, trying to find a way to fix his girlfriend's fuck up. She made him shoot her, he had no other choice.
"You're right, we can't be together if you die." He hummed cupping her sweaty cheeks, the color draining from her face as he did so. "So I guess that means we die together baby."
Cassandra's jaw gapes as she processes what she just heard. "Bryon, c'mon please we can work this out. We don't even have to say you shot me. We can say we snuck out, a-a-and a stray bullet hit me. Baby please just call 911?" She begged her voice hoarse and ragged as she not only clutched onto her sanity but her ex-boyfriend's as well.
Bryon huffs considering what she proposed, it very well could clear him and her. Plus living in one of the most dangerous cities in the state, the authorities would more than likely believe them. Thoughts raced in his mind at one hundred miles per hour, how things would end if his baby girl fucked this up.
Brushing a braid out of her face, he gives a disgruntled sigh. "Fine, but you call, I'm going to go hide this," He revealed the shiny black firearm that he had shot her with. "And if you even think of trying to get away from me, your brains will be splattered all over this ceiling, do you understand me, Cassie?"
The pain was starting to get to the teenage girl, as the adrenaline she had initially was wearing off, but what little she had was holding her off until help arrived.
"I said do you understand me, Cassie?" He growled pressing the gun against her temple. He looked her deep in the eyes, his gaze ice cold.
"Yes, Bryon." She whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Good," He lifted the gun, stepping away from her. "I'll be right back use the motel phone." With that, he steps out of the motel room and heads to where he parked his dad's car.
