Tainted → Justin Bieber

TWENTY-FOUR.

J.

I'm not thinking right. I'm never thinking right. My mind is not even in control of my arm right now. At least I don't think it is. Otherwise, I wouldn't be pointing a gun at the girl that I love. She's scared out of her mind right now, body trembling, green eyes wide, mouth shut tightly.
How could I do this to her? I could I be so insensitive?

I have demons inside of me. They won't allow me to lower the gun. I've already messed up big time, so what was the point? There are nothing I could say or do that would ever convince Lacey to take me back. I'm already a threat to her life.

Lower the gun Justin.

I wanted to, I really did. But something wasn't letting me. I really did need to find my son. I didn't know anything about him. Except the fact that he was three. It was three years ago when Lianna announced that she was pregnant. I didn't know his name, I didn't know if he looked like me or his mother, I didn't know anything. He was the reason for my aggressiveness. He was the reason I had this gun raised.

"Are you going to shoot me?" Lacey's words tumbled out of her mouth. She looked utterly baffled right now.

I ignored her question and asked, "If you won't tell me where she is, then just tell me his name. Just tell me what my son's name is."

The air was quiet for several long seconds, but it was the loudest sound I was hearing.

"Mason." Lacey finally spoke. "His name is Mason."

Mason. Mason. Mason. Mason Bieber.

I repeated the name over and over in my head. It was a nice name.

"Who does he look like?" I asked.

"You." Lacey bowed her head, obviously not fazed by the gun anymore.

Immediately, it felt limp in my hand, crashing to the floor. I sunk down next to it and pushed my pride aside for a few seconds. A few seconds to allow myself to cry for my son. I've missed out on three years already. I wasn't there to hold him when he was born, I wasn't there to change his diapers, feed him, bathe him. I wasn't there to tell him how I much I love him, I wasn't there to admire and appreciate that I had a little boy. A baby boy who l created. It truly did hurt inside that Lianna thought it was okay to keep my son from me. I've never met Mason but I feel so attached to him. I just wanted to be with him.

I felt like a little girl sitting here, crouched over, pouring my eyes out. I haven't cried like this for as long as I can remember. Men don't cry. Especially not me. If I'm hurt, I'm aggressive. But how can I be aggressive when all I wanted to do was hold my son? Honestly, was that too much to ask for?

I don't blame Lacey for being loyal to her sister. I don't blame her for not giving up her information. She thinks I'll try to hurt her, but I won't.

My muscles instinctively tense when I feel a pair of arms around my shoulders. I looked up and to my surprise, it was Lacey clinging from me. I frowned immediately.

Was she stupid or something?

I just held a fücking gun to her face and now she was hugging me. I wanted to push her away, because I was angry at myself. Angry for letting her fall for me when I knew I only had one motive all along. Angry because she was so naive, so innocent and I took that away from her. Angry because I broke her heart. None of this was suppose to happen. I was only suppose to get close enough to allow her to trust me and tell me about Lianna. But look at what I've created. I've dug myself an even bigger hole. Now I have two girls that I fell for, and they're both sisters. I can never do anything without screwing it up.