42 ❦ killers

1.2K 47 32
                                    

The rain fell heavy soaking the ground and drenching my trembling body. I stood there, staring at Allister's lifeless form sprawled on the ground.

The gun was still in my hand, like it didn't belong there, but it did. It was mine. It was me who pulled the trigger.

Tears burned down my cheeks, mixing with the rain as a sob broke free. My chest heaved, and I clutched the gun tighter, its hard edges digging into my fingers. I couldn't let it go. It was like letting go of it would make it real.

The world around me blurred, fading into a haze of sound and movement. Burns shouted something. But I didn't hear the words. I couldn't. The blood on my hands, the blood on me was louder.

I didn't notice the others until they were upon me. Men came running, I flinched when hands grabbed me, roughly tearing earing the gun from my grip.

"No!" I screamed, clutching at the air, but they were faster. My hands were yanked behind my back, ropes biting into my wrists as they tied me, binding me like an animal.

The rain hit harder, but I barely felt it. I blinked through the downpour, and that was when I saw him. Riggs.

He stood there, his figure cutting through the chaos. His eyes were locked on me, narrowed, before they flicked downward, to my hands. To the blood. To the gun now held by someone else.

I cried out again, a sharp, broken wail, but his face didn't shift. He moved past me.

"Allister," he murmured as he crouched by the body.

My breath hitched. I watched, frozen, as Riggs reached out, grabbing Allister's shoulders and shaking him.

"Allister!" His voice cracked, a raw sound that cut through me like a blade. He shook him again, harder this time, his fingers digging into his rain soaked shirt. "Allister."

Nothing.

Riggs dropped his head for a moment, the rain pouring over his face, before he reached down and cradled Allister's head in his hands. His lips moved, words I couldn't hear spilling out, his voice trembling with something I'd never heard from him before. Desperation.

Then, he looked at me.

"Riggs." I whisper, shivering under the weight of his stare. His eyes, red and wild, locked onto mine, and I couldn't breathe.

"You," he rasped, his voice breaking again. "You killed my brother."

My heart stopped.

"W-what?" The word fell from my lips, as the world around me cracked open.

The air left my lungs, I couldn't stop crying, my voice rising into a frantic pitch. "I—I didn't mean to. It wasn't supposed to—"

But his face didn't change. He looked at me like I was a ghost, like I was something monstrous, something unrecognizable.

He stood the rain streaming down his face.
I shook my head. "Riggs I'm— I'm so sorry."

He didn't say anything.

I whispered again. "I didn't know. I didn't know he was—"

"Doesn't matter," he spat. "He's gone because of you!"

Rough hands gripped my arms, pulling me back as my knees scraped against the mud. The rain didn't let up, its cold fingers biting into my skin as I stumbled, dragged like a through the chaos. I twisted my neck to look back, to see him one last time.

Riggs was still kneeling by Allister's body, his head bowed. His shoulders shook, his hands clutching his brother like he could will him back to life.

My chest tightened. Burns was gone, nowhere to be seen. I could barely hear anything over the pounding of the rain, but I knew he'd left, he'd abandoned me the moment Riggs and his men arrived. I don't blame him, I would have done the same..

Little LambWhere stories live. Discover now