𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝

Chapter XXIII : Crazy Macher

You were now standing as you witness Bailey emerge from the shadows, holding your auntie in his arms. She looked scared, bruised, and trembling. Your heart raced as you saw her condition, a surge of anger and determination coursing through you.

The sight of Auntie Leslie, who had always been a pillar of strength and love in your life, in such a vulnerable state ignited a fire within you. You clenched your fists, your focus sharpening as you locked eyes with Bailey.

"Let her go, Bailey," your voice was cold and unwavering, a stark contrast to the turmoil that raged within you. Your auntie's safety was non-negotiable, and you were prepared to do whatever it took to protect her.

Bailey's wicked smile only widened, relishing in the power he held over you. "Ah, the noble hero emerges," he taunted, his grip on Auntie Leslie tightening as if to emphasize his control. "But you see, Y/n, you're in no position to make demands. Not when your own darkness is your greatest adversary."

"You gave me your word that you're not going to harm her!" You shouted at Bailey, your voice laced with fury and desperation. The memory of your plea echoed in your mind, the promise he had seemingly broken now fueling your rage.

Bailey's laughter cut through the tension, his amusement mocking your sense of betrayal. "Oh, come now, Y/n. Did you really think I would keep my word?" He taunted, his grip on your auntie tightening in a cruel display of power.

Your gun remained steady in your grip, each heartbeat echoing in the tense silence that enveloped the room. Auntie Leslie's pained yet resilient smile fueled your determination, reminding you of the stakes you were fighting for. Bailey's taunting smirk only served to intensify the fire burning within you.

"Why don't you tell your sweet little boy to put his gun down, Leslie?" Bailey sneered, his fingers digging into her arm. The pain etched across her features was a stark reminder of the cruelty that lurked beneath his facade.

Auntie Leslie's voice quivered as she pleaded, her eyes locked onto yours. "Sw-sweetie, please put the gun down," she implored, her vulnerability piercing through the fear that clouded her gaze. You hesitated, torn between your emotions and the decision before you.

Bailey's mocking laughter cut through the air, his amusement fueled by your internal struggle. "I told you, Y/n, that I would hurt her if you didn't dare to share our little agreement with others," he gloated, relishing in the power he held over you. "Did you really think I wouldn't know that you had a Woodsboro sheriff tailing her for her safety?"

Your heart sank as his revelation struck home. Ethan's betrayal added another layer of complexity to the web of deception that had entangled you all. You shot a sidelong glance at him, his triumphant smile a bitter reminder of your vulnerability.

"How'd you know?" you demanded, frustration and anger tingeing your words. Ethan's smile widened, his eyes dancing with a mixture of malice and satisfaction. "I did tell Dad," he admitted, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "After I followed you to your friend's room that time we were planning."

You walked down the stage, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. Every step felt like a weighty decision, a strategic move in a dangerous game. As you neared Sam and Tara, Bailey's sinister intentions became even clearer.

With a forceful push, he sent your auntie stumbling toward you. You instinctively caught her, your arms wrapping protectively around her trembling form. The rush of emotions was overwhelming—relief at having her back in your arms, anger at Bailey's cruelty, and a burning desire to end this nightmare once and for all.