This Side of Paradise

Chapter 5

"Hey, hold up. What's the rush? You don't survive a spear through the heart," Bellamy said, jogging to catch up with Clarke. He had the gun out, showing it off like a prize.

Wells stepped between them, ever the hero. "Put the gun away, Bellamy."

Clarke stopped short, spinning to face him. She didn't need Wells protecting her—if only he could figure that out.

Murphy edged in front of Aspen, tucking her behind him. She could tell he didn't like Bellamy waving the gun around.

"Why don't you do something about it then, Wells?" Bellamy smirked, and it made Aspen want to hit him—though Octavia wouldn't thank her for it.

Clarke ignored Wells. "Jasper screamed when they moved him. If the spear struck his heart, he'd have died instantly." She turned away from Bellamy, already moving. "It doesn't mean we have time to waste."

Bellamy caught her wrist. "As soon as you take this wristband off, we can go."

Aspen shoved past Murphy, planting herself beside Clarke. Arms crossed, her glare locked on Bellamy.

"Go blow yourself, Bellamy. The Ark's coming whether you like it or not. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean you can stop it." Her chest tightened. Marcus had to come down. He had to. And maybe—just maybe—his mother would make it too.

"The only way the Ark thinks I'm dead is if I'm dead. Got it?" Clarke added. She flicked a small smile Aspen's way. Aspen didn't know if she'd ever forgive her, but there were bigger things to focus on than the grudge between them.

"Brave little duchess and the brave princess," Bellamy mocked. Aspen's hands curled into fists.

"Why don't you find your own nickname?" Finn's voice cut in as he strolled out of the woods, swagger in every step. She hadn't thought he had the guts to show up.

"You call this a rescue party?" His eyes swept the group. "We've got to split up, cover more ground. Clarke, come with me." He didn't wait—just started walking, Clarke trailing after him.

Aspen fell in step about five feet to their right. Murphy stayed close, one pace behind her.

"You're not getting my wristband, Murphy," she warned, knowing that if Bellamy wanted Clarke's, he'd want everyone's. And Murphy had a habit of doing whatever Bellamy said.

"Ouch. Murphy? You never call me that."

She glanced at him, regretting it instantly. Hurt flickered in his eyes, confusion right behind it. Almost enough to make her apologize. Almost.

"Well, you don't usually threaten my shot at seeing my uncle again," she muttered. He wasn't her real uncle—no one had those anymore—but he was the only family she had left.

"Sweetheart, calm down. I'd never force you into anything." Murphy moved closer, leaning down until his face was level with hers. His hand rose, warm and heavy on the side of her neck. "And I'll never let anyone hurt you. You're mine, after all."

Her pulse spiked. Her mouth went dry. She narrowed her eyes to cover it. "You wish." She rolled her eyes, fighting back the heat crawling up her neck. He looked ready to say more—until Bellamy's voice carried back to them.

"Guess we got more in common than meets the eye, huh?"

"We have nothing in common," Wells snapped.

Bellamy chuckled. "No? Both came down here to protect someone we love. Your secret's safe with me. 'Course, for you, it's worse. With Finn around, Clarke doesn't even see you. It's like you're not even here."