Sold

Chapter 18

*Edited*

(Dylan's POV)

"Dylan!" I stopped dead in my tracks as a thick Italian accent called my name, the single word echoing in the empty parking lot like it was boomed out from a car speaker. Slowly turning I came face to face with Angelo. His tan skin and brown eyes covered by a fedora hat, his tall frame stood in front of me, hands in the front pockets of his tailored suit.

"Angelo" I said back, touching my belt to subtly feel if my shot gun was safely there. My fingers lacked to find the familiar cold metal.

Fuck.

"So? Did they buy it?" I looked at the man in front of me. His face cold and void of all emotion. His posture lazy but still threatening. I looked away and shuffled my feet awkwardly.

"Yes" I looked at my watch trying to avoid looking into Angelo's cold gaze. A low chuckle rumbled from the mans chest causing me to look up at him.

"What did they look like? Shocked? Scared?" Another deep rumbled erupted from his chest as he wrapped an arm around me pulling me towards the sleek black car in the empty lot.

"More stressed"

"Well I'd hope so, his father just died, they still have a funeral to plan and now all this crap" another chuckle vibrated through his chest causing him to stumble and hold onto me while walking. Looking down at my shoes as we walked, guilt piling into me like a stack of bricks.

"Crap." I said just as we sat in the sleek car. Angelo looked at me, the corners of his eyes wrinkled from the smile plastered on his face. Bile rising in my throat as guilt began to stab at me.

I couldn't do this to them. I needed to warn them.

"Forgot my jacket" I said casually and jumped out of the car and walking back towards the elevator. I heard the car shut down and the radio begin playing some old love song.

The elevator threw me up to the penthouse floor with such velocity I didn't recognise when the elevator doors dinged open. Shaking myself out of my revere I walked in to Brandon's house and spotted my jacket on the now smashed coffee table.

My heart rate picking up quickly as I looked around, glass littered the floor, a hole in the wall, overall the house was a mess. A cold breeze prickled at my arms causing me to look towards the broken windows by the kitchen.

Her hair blew against the wind making her look like some goddess who was willing to sacrifice her life for those she protected. Her pyjamas clung to her body showing off her perfectly toned and curved body. Blood trailed down her arms as her palms dug into the shards of glass on the side of the window frame. Her body leaning forward dangerously out of the building. Her melodious laugh filled the room eerily causing goosebumps to rise in my skin.

My body reacted before my mind could, pulling me forward and reaching for Rosalyn before she could fall, my arms wrapped around her slender waist pulling her away from the open window effortlessly, her hands slipping from the window frame, her body falling into me.

"Rosalyn!" I shouted holding the broken girl in my arms. Her body unmoving. I pulled away, my hands resting on her shoulders, her blue eyes glazed over and void of any emotion.

Both our heads snapped towards the hallway with a slam of a bedroom door, Brandon emerged, his fist red and slightly bloody, his hair a disheveled mess. His eyes looked over us, panic clearly evident as he raced forward and grabbed at Rosalyn.

Jerking out of her trance she exploded, fists pounding against Brandon's bare chest, blood smearing over the both of them as Brandon attempted to hold her and keep his own tears in check. Rosalyn was screaming and crying trying to break free from Brandon's grip.

"Rosé!" Brandon's deep commanding voice boomed and silenced the room immediately.

"What did you do?!" His voice was harsh, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at Brandon.

"Who are you?!" She exploded pounding again.

"Get away from me!" Her screams echoed inside of the house. Her movements slow. Her face a shade of green, dark circles under her eyes. This beautiful amazing girl who had fought her entire life was now a shadow. She'd stopped fighting.

"I hate you, Brandon!" She shouted at him.

As if a switch was flicked her body slumped forward into Brandon's chest as he held her close. His own breathing rapid as he looked at me worried. My fingers picked at the leather jacket I held. My own heart beating rapidly worried for Rosalyn. Lifting her effortlessly and holding her in his arms Brandon stood over me.

"I... Uh... I'm going to take her to hospital. You can come if you want" I shook my head and stood coming face to face with Brandon.

"Take care of her"

"I'll try"

"Don't try, Brandon. Do" with that I walked out of the building unable to look at the both of them. Collapsing in the elevator, my eyes meeting with my reflection. My fist slammed down on the hard floor causing pain to race up my arm. Guilt biting down hard on my chest making it incredibly hard to breath.

What have I done?