GUNS and GANGS

Chapter 15 : Her redemption: An untold Song.

As soon as I regained consciousness, everything was calm and dimly lit. I couldn't make out the area just yet as I was still recovering from the pain in my head and my sore eyes.

I searched through the corner and saw a light, so I followed it. I walk down the long path and soon, I began hearing voices, voices I knew too well. I took another step further with great care, making sure I wasn't heard.

"You have nowhere and no option to choose from except from surrending. You've been defeated, Jasper. The sooner you accept that the better for you and your deadbeat son." I could hear my father's voice and my heart sunk in as I caught sight of Peter; beaten, wounded and crowned with a black eye.

I should have been the one there not him, I'm the one who should be facing the wrath of my Grandfather. My heart begins racing in fear, thoughts flooding in yet not knowing what to do as each action taken at this point would have a severe consequence; one which would cost so greatly.

Remembering I have a smoke grenade, I regain a little confidence but just as I was about to take a step further a hand grabs me from behind, hands on my mouth. I would have bitten him instantly had I not recognized his smell.

"The hell are you doing here?! And how did you get past all of them?" I look into his eyes, wondering if he was human anymore.

"That isn't important right now." He says, his voice causes me to have a little string of hope, making me feel calm.

"Right." I fold my arms.

"Look, we haven't much time, if we stay here any longer, we'll be caught, okay?"

"Like I don't know that." I scoff making him sigh. I guess his family really is important after all. Peter would do the same for him just as I would for him.

"Okay. So you have any plans?" He asks looking expectant with bright eyes.

"Uhm..no actually. I just woke up. I mean regained consciousness." I retort.

"Are you sane, Red?! You slept in the middle of a gang war? C'mon you know you can't fool me. What have you been up to, huh? " He was completely fazed.

"I was knocked down actually by a woman, The Huntress, you wouldn't know her anyway."  I look away.

"Well, here's one thing I know, I'm gonna go in there, with or without you and shut down this party." He states looking confident.

"Well that's one way of dying, Paul fucking Walker." I curse, slamming his chest.

"I think you're scared, Red. I've never seen you like this. Not when it involves my brother." His words make me even me more weak and memories begin flooding in of Peter and I. I couldn't admit I didn't want to lose his brother but he already knew.

I turn my back, facing the bright entrance, "What if I am, Paul? What if I didn't want to lose him? Would that make you feel better? I never wanted any of this, I never thought of a real life until met your brother. His eyes were my redemption." I fold my arms suddenly feeling cold and then he walks up from behind and whispers in my ear, "Then don't lose him."

Turning back slowly, I look into his eyes and ask with a cracking voice, "How do I do that?"  and then he straightens his dark leather jacket, and begins walking towards the entrance while bringing out a gun. He turns his head slightly and I heard him say the word.

"We fight." And then, all I could see was smoke.

                                           ***

I clearly didn't understand how much she loved him until she shot him, her father. Everything settled. Everything that could move, stilled.

We had to process what just happened; faces and expressions moved together in sync. It was an untold song. The battle was over for now. Little victories like this does have consequences, still, we relish in the downfall of our foes. At least, what I've been told so far.

Our eyes met and for those few seconds, I realized how much I weighed to her and the implications it will have in our paths. She betrayed her own gang and now, she's one of us. She's mine.

"Red!" Words couldn't express how much shock and confused I was. I called out to her, reaching out. She needed that comfort.

She fell to the floor on both knees, the gun crashes to the battleground, it was less of a building now. Her hair, ruffled from her current state, her lips parts in agony,  with rough lines across her face.  Red's eyes were bitter in tears, she had lost everything afterall. Her hope, her dreams, her father. She looks up to me, with teary eyes, "Pete, wha--what have I done?" Her voice cracks with bitterness.

Cassius clutching his side, where a bullet had torn through his flesh, struggled to speak, his voice a mere whisper in the storm's cacophony. "Little Vixen," he managed, tears mixing with raindrops on his weathered cheeks.

                                           ***

I knelt beside him, my eyes filling with tears I could no longer hold back.  Memories of my childhood marred by secrecy and danger flooded my mind. I recalled the fleeting moments of tenderness amidst the chaos, the rare smiles that briefly lifted the weight of my reality.

"Dad," my voice quivered, a fragile thread of anguish woven into each syllable. I knelt beside him, my eyes brimming with tears that blurred the lines between regret and resolve. "I didn't want it to end like this." My father's gaze, once piercing and unyielding, softened as he looked up at me through a veil of pain. "You had the courage," he murmured, his voice a whisper that echoed in the cavernous emptiness of the mansion. "I raised you to be strong."

Pete walks up to me and holds me to his chest, relieving of my pains. I sniff several times while my body trembles. I pull him tighter.

As My father's breathing slowed, I whispered a final farewell, my voice cracking with sorrow. The sirens grew louder, piercing through the night as if mourning alongside me. I knew this was not just the end of my father's life, but the shattering of my last hope for a different future. And so, I clung onto my last hope, my lifeline; one which gave me so much comfort to ease my pain.

A figure emerges from the corner, all bloodied and bastardized. He walks up to me, clutching his side, apparently wounded, with a torn tuxedo; stinking rich. "Who's he to you really?" He asks me in a gruffy voice, with a frowned expression. His breathing is heavily rugged, but he remained standing. He was indeed a leader, one which I envy.

I look up to him, still clutched to Pete.
"He's my redemption."