A single bullet // M.C ✔️

51

"I don't even know what to say to him anymore, Kensie. I mention anything that could even link to Lauren now he freaks out and says I'm using her against him," I picked at the skin around my nails, looking down.

It got really awkward after everything happened between us, making me have to leave before I overthought everything. "We aren't even properly together officially, and he's already running from me. I know nothing about his past relationships, and I'm fine with that. I know he's scared he'll lose me like Lauren..." words got caught in my mouth as I tried to think how to even remotely word what my brain was putting together. "Am I just overthinking again?" I finally looked up at my best friend, frowning and on the edge of tears.

"Even I don't know much about his past relationships, Nicky," she shook her head, placing a manicured hand over mine so I stopped the abuse to my fingers. "I just think he needs to keep his guard up."

"Not from me, he doesn't," I whined, feeling really pathetic, but I couldn't help it. "I want to know him, Kensie. He dragged me into this life. The least he could do is let me in."

"And you have to be patient for that to happen, Nicky. Don't scare him away."

"Mom?" I furrowed my brows, answering my phone. She never phoned me recently. I had to reach out to her, and since everything happened between us, I just haven't felt compelled to do so since there was always tension between us.

"I thought you had died!" I pulled the device away from my ear as she yelled, placing it on my lap and just letting her ramble, knowing she needed this. For all I know, Morgan could have told her I went to a scene with him and then disappeared yet again. After all, I did stay later... and then not message him I was home since everything happened with Michael. "You can't do that, Nicky! You can't go to a crime scene for a gang murder spree and then not tell someone you are safe home."

"It weren't really a murder spree, Mom." I looked at my freshly painted nails, a way to stop me picking at them in a panic. "Just more of a few kills."

"Is this a joke to you?" I slowly blinked as she spoke, confused.

"Mom-?"

"No, Nicky. Your dad was killed by the gang if you seem to remember... and you're just playing around the crime scenes alone and not telling anyone you're safe."

"Someone could have messaged me to see if I was safe..." I muttered, shaking my head. "It isn't always up to me to reach out, Mom. That's why it's been long since I spoke to you. You don't bother to contact me unless it's to moan at me about something. I got back from the scene late and crashed when I came home."

"Don't turn this around on me, Nicky." I took a deep breath, closing my eyes before letting them flutter open again, glancing at a photo by my bed. Michael was behind me as I took an outfit photo in the mirror; I didn't really like the photo, but the look Michael was giving me made my heart flutter. It was a look of pure love (even if he can't say it) and just... safety. Like I wouldn't get hurt by anything or anyone. I felt safe around the male, and he knew that.

"It's true, though, Mom. Think about the last time you phoned me. It was to moan about Dad's funeral." I let the hurt fluster away from me, sighing and shaking my head. "I'm safe, Mom, safe and happy."

"Where are you? Alex said you weren't at your place. It was sold. You never said you were moving."

"Me and Kensie moved into an apartment block." I spoke almost robotically, letting my body fall backwards onto my bed, head hitting the soft, plush pillows. "I didn't think I had to tell you about my every move."

"Would have been nice, nice. What if I had come to visit you?"

"When have you last come and visited me?" I sighed sadly, closing my eyes, tired of this conversation. "Kensie's parents had been over more than you, and they live in London. You lived in the same place just a few streets over. I had to come over to you to find out about Dad."

"That's different, and you know it."

"How?" I didn't have the energy anymore. "They have to get on a plane and fly over and get to stay a week or two before leaving. You just have to walk to me or even hail a taxi. I would say you have it easier than they do. Maybe they just care more..." I whispered. Silence, radio silence showing me what I needed to know and hear. "I see how it is, Mom. I'll see you at Dad's funeral." I pulled my phone away from my ear without even muttering a goodbye. The pain shooting through my heart was nothing compared to actually being shot.

If this is how she wanted it to be, then fine. I'm not going to fight to stay in contact and keep having a mom who didn't even bother with me since Dad died. Deep down, I knew she blamed me for what happened, always blaming my work for every inconvenience in her life that could even remotely link to me. No matter what I said, I wasn't going to change her mind, and I was done fighting to try to.

"You okay?" Locking eyes with Michael in the mirror, I sighed and slightly nodded, barely moving my head, but it was there.

"You know what? I think I am." It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I didn't realise how much I was blaming myself for what happened to Dad, no matter how many times I was told by multiple people why it happened. "My past is my past, and there's nothing I can do to change that. If Mom doesn't want me in her life, then I'm not going to claw my way into it and stay just because I want to."

His hand was gently placed on my shoulder, squeezing lightly as if to say, 'You have us'. I knew what he was trying to say, even if he never spoke the words. I have a new family. This gang is my family, and I'm not mad about it. Wouldn't have it any other way. Not now.

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