A single bullet // M.C ✔️

24

My phone was constantly buzzing beside me as I let it ring out. After Amy left, I had sat there for a few minutes thinking over what she said.

'He's one of the motherfucking leaders of the gang.'

He can't be, can he? I had messaged him after saying, "Don't message me. I need time leading me to where I am now; him spam calling me to get me to answer."

I had done the quick walk home and bypassed Kensie and Luke, walking straight up to my room, making alarm bells ring for Kensie, but she just left me. I'll tell her later, warn her about Calum and Luke. If Calum's a leader, chances are Luke is as well, or at least a follower.

"Calum, leave me alone," I snapped, tired of the constant buzzing and answering the phone.

"What have I done?" Straight to the point.

"You know what you've done," I sneered, about to hang up.

"Tell me, Nic, or I'm coming over."

"Why so you can murder me too?" I hung up the phone, turning it off and chucking it onto my bed.

"Nicky!" Kensie banged on my door, making me groan.

"Leave me alone!" I yelled back, spinning around on my chair to face my laptop. A half-written article about Calum was on the screen, an article exposing one of the members finally with proof, quotes from Amy.

"Do not do what I think you are,"

"Write an article exposing a member," I spun around as my door opened. "Thedoor was never locked, by the way." I smiled.

"Didn't want to just barge in," she smiled back before going serious again. "I'm being serious, Nic. You can't post that article."

"Did you know when you first saw him?" I breathed out, shutting my laptop. The articles never being posted, I just needed to get my thoughts down on paper so I could reasonably think everything over.

"I did,"

"Is Luke..." she stared at me, sighing and sitting on my bed.

"Part of it too? I generally don't know Nicky. You've got to believe me on that,"

"He has the tattoo, Kensie. I think he is."

"Tattoo?" She tilted her head, her purple hair falling to one side as she stared at me, confusion clear on her face. "He doesn't have a tattoo, Nic."

"Don't do that, Kensie. He does near his neck," she smiled softly, shaking her head.

"He doesn't, Nicky. I don't know what you think you've seen, but he has nothing there."

"I know I saw one. Five dashes forming a tally mark, one for each member, and the fifth representing something else that no one knows," I pulled the article up that fed me all the information, filling my head with the simple maths symbol. "Look," I pushed the laptop towards her as she leaned over my shoulder, rereading the words I'd studied, memorised in my mind.

"This is all fake, Nic. Do you really believe an article from what, twenty years ago?" She looked at the date at the top, rolling her eyes. "The gang was big for years before. There's no way they would have only got a symbol twenty years ago." Valid point.

"I know what I saw, Kensie," whenever I closed my eyes, I could clearly picture the tally mark on his neck, staring at me, taunting me.

"And I think I know my boyfriend, Nicky. I would know if he had the tattoo. Or any tattoo. He's a clean man," she pushed away from my chair.

"I think you're projecting because you found out about Calum,"

"Information you were hiding from me,"

"It weren't mine to say, Nicky. And it doesn't change him as a person. If it helps, he's C."

Rain pelted against my window as I sat staring outside, watching the hustle of the street as everyone sought shelter from the heavy, loud water droplets.

Calum being C did help. It meant he's just come into the limelight, but why? Why now? Did he just not have a signature move, and I gave him one he thought was such a good idea? I groaned as my mind was still filled with the tanned man, making me curse silently, closing my eyes.

Cool glass was against the side of my face as I rested my head against the pane. Nothing changed towards Calum; maybe I no longer get butterflies at the sheer mention of his name, and when I see him, but he's still a friend. It strangely soothed me; I was protected. If anything happened to me as much as he pretends to hate me, he would never let anything hurt me, and I know that. Calum doesn't have to say that.

Mystery messenger has been silent recently, last messaging when Sarah was murdered. I didn't know how to feel. It's as if they are lurking; lurking and planning something. Something is due to happen; I can feel it in my stomach, my mind grasping that thought with a tight grip. It weren't going anywhere. I let my eyes travel across the road, frowning and squinting when a red flash was seen, a single red dot. Sangria shade like Amy's hair.

Amy... I hope she's okay. I regret how I spoke to her; she didn't deserve it.

"Nic, you coming to watch a film?" Kensie, sweet Kensie, who's stuck in Luke's game. Being played like prey to a predator. He has the tattoo, and my mind connected the dots after she left annoyed. If C is Calum, L is Luke. Luke's a leader of the gang, and she doesn't know. I can't be the person to break her heart like that; she doesn't even believe me about the tattoo.

"I think I'm going to go to sleep," I lie. My mind won't shut off, and it won't for the next few hours. Every problem was running around my brain. Did he kill my dad, or was he just there and forced to do the stupid darn X on him? Did he pull the trigger on Sarah and kill the office gossip? For the mere reason she was asking about Dave. Dave, did he shoot and kill my boss? Since I met him, I've been surrounded by murders. I've survived the years I've lived here, only hearing about the brutal attacks, never witnessed, never experienced one. Something's changed, and that something's Calum.

Is he feeding the gang people who mean a lot to me? Does that equal Kensie being next? Sarah didn't mean a lot to me, though that doesn't make sense.

"Ok I'll see you in the morning," she's leaving me alone. Good, I need it. A blanket was securely over my body, trapping heat as the world silenced. Not even the slightly hum of the tv downstairs was heard like normal. It was silent. Swallowing me as I stared up at the ceiling. It was quite uncomfortable. I was craving noise, a buzz, a hum, anything to cut through the silence. Praying for my eyes to close; they never did.

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