The Evil That Men Do | $UICIDEBOY$ | $CRIM

22: My Scars Are Like Evidence Being Mailed To The Judge

(A/N: Hi again! The first part of this chapter should've been in the last chapter, but for the sake of cliff hangers... It had to be done. I say this because the POV will shift to Scott's halfway through the chapter, and I'm sincerely not a fan of doing this, but for the plot at hand, it makes the most sense. So I apologize, even though I'm sure it's not a big deal to you guys, it is to me and my OCD brain c'; anyway, enjoy!)

(TW: VIOLENCE, SELF HARM, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE)

Winnie's POV

The letter read:

"Dear Winnie, I'm sorry you had to find everything out this way. I never expected you to get involved with this in the first place. The invoices I left behind, I'm sure you know now, aren't real existing places, but just an alibi. There's nothing at these locations besides dust and locked doors.

That's besides the point. I'm sure Andrew told you everything. I didn't have the heart to tell you myself. I know now you're far too deep in with G59, and I can't stop what I've started against them. I'm sorry you've got yourself in this mess with me, but on the complete opposite side.

If only you had listened in the first place.

I still need the invoices back by Christmas Eve. I'm not trying to have the IRS find me either.

With loads of regret,
Gavin."

At this point I crumbled up the letter and stared at Shakewell. "Why." I felt like personally beating the shit out of him for even thinking it was okay to kill people who had nothing to do with any of this. Why did Gavin have to kill the people I love because I was associated with someone he didn't like?

This wasn't a sincere apology.

All of my memories of Gavin growing up have never been fond. I'm convinced with how he treated me, he was a sociopath. There's absolutely no fucking way in hell he ever changed when Dad died. Dad knew he was too unstable to let him run our organization, he watched his son grow up into a heartless beast with eyes aimed only for the top.

My dad was the same, but when he was battling cancer, he realized the damage he created was too great to continue going. Things were becoming too dangerous for just Gavin and I to handle, and he knew Gavin would keep at it.

I'm convinced my Dad knew about Gavin stealing our supply, but couldn't confront him. For whatever reason, I don't know.

"Why did you side with Gavin? Why did you hurt my friends? My family? Why did you have to do any of that?" I could feel anger and despair creeping into every crevice of my body, my brain becoming thick with fog of unwanted thoughts and memories of my brother. Everyone I grew up with and have known to love... Ripley and Glock, especially those two... And whoever else got killed unbeknownst to me.

"This has nothing to do with you," he spoke flatly, glaring at me like I had just spit in his food.

That broke me.

"This has EVERYTHING to do with ME!" I screamed, balling my fists before absolutely mauling him down with punches. He pushed me away with a grunt, but I scrambled back to him quickly. Knowing he was significantly bigger than me, I went for where it hurt.

I began to scratch and jab anywhere I could that skin was visible, face, neck, arms, etc. He pushed me again, but I had my fingers locked into his scalp. I pulled with all my might down to my knee before bashing his nose to my bone.

"You fucking bitch," he growled, but before he could lunge at me, Scott and Rami had already tackled him back to the floor, Rami holding Shakewell's arms back as Scott drove punch after punch into his face.