Chapter 27 • A (LB)

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❥Warning:
Includes strong language, blood and death.

❥A/N: It took 3 weeks to upload these chapters. Once you see how many words it took, you'll realize why. I suggest getting water and at this point a whole meal, especially if you're reading all 3 finale chapters😭✋🏼Enjoy :)

-GEORGE's POV (London Boy)-
Something happened.

After my fight with Y/N, I went back to the house to try figuring out a way to make things right, while also preparing for a possible ambush. But unfortunately, I walked into a trap.

Right when I arrived, I was ambushed by one of Russ' idiot goons.

He attacked me, tackling me to the ground, but before he could do anything, I grabbed a knife out of my shirt sleeve and stabbed him in the head harshly, causing him to collapse on me. I cringed, pushing him off of me to the side.

Then, I stood up, pulled my knife out of his head harshly, and glared at him while wiping the blood on my black jeans.

Through the window, I saw Clay shoot another goon in the chest, while Nick stabbed the other in the leg, then kicked him to the ground. I sighed nervously at them, then realized that a goon could've gone after Y/N too, now that they know where we are.

So with a fallen heart, I ran as fast as I could to the street again, running all around, trying desperately to find Y/N, but she was no where to be found.

That was, until I found her knife resting on the concrete in an alleyway near some knocked over trashcans. Once I saw that, chills ran across my arms as my eyes widened. Slowly, I bent down, picked up her knife and gripped it.

Immediately, I stuck her knife in my back pocket and ran faster around the entire place, calling out her name in worry, checking under every inch, every area scanning with my eyes, but she was no where to be found.

GEORGE:
"Fuck—" I yelled angrily while kicking the nearby trashcan, then I collapsed on the concrete while holding the back of my neck, resting my elbows on my knees.

I frowned deeply at the ground while glaring harshly, worried for Y/N, but also furious at myself for leaving her alone, knowing Russ' goons weren't far from us.

"Idiot...you fucking idiot—why did you leave her alone—you fucking idiot—" I yelled at myself in my head over and over.

After a few moments, I released a shaky breath out while taking out my phone from my jean pocket. Immediately, I dialed Clay's number, holding the phone up to my ear.

Shortly, my best friend answered.

GEORGE:
"They got her—they got Y/N..." My voice shook.

CLAY:
"Shit—where is she?"

GEORGE:
"I don't know...her and I had a fight and I left her, I shouldn't have fucking left her..." I ran my hand over my eyes, into my hair.

CLAY:
"Breathe, George. She's a badass, she'll be okay. Come back to the house and we can track her phone."

•••••

At home, on the computer screen, were the words:

No person to be found.

I paced back and forth with even more anxiety, resting my hands on the back of my neck while attempting to take deep breaths, but failing.

CLAY:
"How can there be no person found?" His eyebrows squished together, "Did you do it wrong?"

NICK:
"No, I'm not an idiot." He sighed, "Let me try it again."

Shortly, Nick entered the corrected information again, yet the screen still read the same result. My friends sighed in defeat, then met my gaze.

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