The Clifford Project

Chapter 12

I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and sighed.

Thirty minutes. I thought to myself. Thirty more minutes until I put this felon in his place. But I was scared. Absolutely petrified, to possibly meet a fate I never wanted for Luke or I. We knew what Calum was capable of. Murder, rape, drug abuse. We could be just blindly walking towards our intended demise. And after I was dead, what would keep Calum from Michael, and his family, and Lucy? Nothing. This could be exactly what he wanted. He wanted Luke and I to be like gullible kids, who think doing the right thing without being told will earn them rewards. And would only earn them more trouble.

"Are you ready to go Paisley?" Luke asked walking into my room. I nodded slightly, swallowing hard and looking at myself in the mirror. What the hell was I getting us into? "You look nervous...." I nodded my head again.

"Of course, I'm nervous He's more powerful than we are Luke. He's gotten away with so much and he'll continue to. What could we ever do to stop him?"

"Fight back. Win. I will not lose one more person to him." I was still hesitant as we went down to the parking lot and got into Lukes truck. The whole way there he held my hand. While driving. He didn't care, he wanted me to feel safe, and I did. For the most part.

We got there early, around 5:45. Fifteen minutes. Fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven. I heard the ring of the bell over the door and jumped slightly in my seat.

Calum.

He walked in slowly, turning his head side to side, observing his surroundings. He wore a black tank top, his lip piercings replaced by an eyebrow piercing. The shirt showed off his tattooed arms and he smelled of cigarette smoke. The moment he saw me a twisted smirk appeared on his lips. He walked towards me slowly, his shoes making loud clunking noises on the tile flooring under his feet.

"Oh look who it is, Clifford's little whore." He wore a devilish smile with eyes so brown they were almost black that burned into my soul like they were of Satan himself. I tried to hide my fear, but I could tell by the way he laughed wickedly that the cheap brave visage I wore wasn't working. I had never wanted someone to die more. It sounded awful, but he had earned himself more than a death sentence. I could imagine it. The police, the gunshots, his crimson blood spilling across the floor of the diner, just another fatality in a war that would finally end with justice, but ultimately that justice coming in the form of his demise. I wondered about his family. If they knew what he did to people, ruining friendships, tearing lives apart by the seams. Then I thought about him dying. How even though what he did broke Michael's world he had people who loved him somewhere. They would still dress him up in a suit and bury him in a cemetery, probably the same one where his grandparents rested. His mother would cry over his open casket, wondering what went wrong in her beautiful baby boys life to cause this. All the grieve around his body, cold and lifeless, with a single bullet hole through his chest. 'No one mourns the wicked' they say. I knew that was a lie. "Bitch must be daydreaming about me." He laughed.

"You fucking wish."

"With the things I could make you feel, you wish you were worthy of this bitch."

"You're a creep, trust me I don't want anything to do with you, no one does."

"Please, I have hoes, I've got more bitches than you can imagine."

"You can't even be loyal? Isn't that why you're so mad at Michael? He wasn't loyal to your group, right? "

"Don't ever fucking tell me what I feel or what I think, you don't know shit."

"Did you have a girlfriend when you raped that poor girl? Did you think about her when you drained her of her blood, as the light left her eyes, a soul that didn't get to live a full life because you ended it prematurely?" He clenched his jaw and threw his fist down on the counter behind me.

"Shut the hell up!"

"I bet you loved it. It filled a void didn't it? You're insane! I bet you get off to that sick shit don't you!?" He took his hand off the counter and grasped my neck, holding my chin up slightly.

"I said shut up and expect you to listen to my demands bitch! Don't talk! Make one more sound and I'll call in back up!" I looked him straight in the eyes and laughed. His eyes were glossed over, on the verge of tears as he threw me down off the stool where I sat to the cold floor. "You don't laugh at me! I laugh at you! Don't ever fucking do that ever again! I should just kill your ass right now!" Luke ran in and helped me off the ground.

"Don't talk to her like that."

"Oh shut it gay boy." Luke's face contorted into a horrid expression.

"Really!? That's what you're going to go with!? That's not a fucking insult it's just a statement dumbass!"
"I know you think Ashton would jump at the chance to suck your dick, but he won't. Not even a girl would, let alone someone like him. Besides the matter you should stop worrying about him."
"What do you mean?"
"Why save someone who's already gone right?" The confidence left Luke's face too quickly.
"...What do you mean?"
"He's dead Luke. Unless you plan on resurrecting him you should just give up. He can't love you, dead or alive, he wouldn't stoop down to your level." He spat at him.
"You're lying! You have to be it's not true!" Luke grabbed Calum by the collar of his shirt. The bell above the door rang again.
"STOP!"
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A/N: I haven't updated a while but I think I know where I'm going with this now, so that's good shit :)
-Sophie / Cashton Baby