Outlaws

Eight

Nash stood aloof, his gaze unable to meet Carter's. The shorter boy stood still, waiting for him to say something, anything, to what he just told him. But Nash did not speak, unsure of what to say. What could he say? How could you express such empathy for someone who was molested?

"Say something," Carter demands, his fists clenching together in a frustrated movement.

"Say something I'm giving up on you."

Although Nash meant for the words to be a joke, he forced them out too quiet, too tight of sing songy voice. The real meaning shone through his joking manner, causing Carter to jerk his head in acrimony.

"Look, Carter, I'm not sure what I'm suppose to say."

"Don't say anything."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

Carter stares straight into Nash's bright azerous eyes.

"Get me a gun."

Those cold, charcoal eyes showed nothing but dead seriousness.

•••••••••••••••

Cameron is the last person I want to talk to, but I knew he was the only one who could provide me with what I needed. I stood at his front door, gathering all the courage I have within me. After the state he left in, I'm sure my appearance won't help any. But I pushed away all thoughts as my knuckles rapped shortly on the door.

Two minutes passed, but no one came. I was just about to try again when a snort sounded behind me. As I whipped around, Cameron's voice was already filling my ears.

"Back to put me in my place? Not a chance Grier, now go away."

He pushed past me, a whiff of cologne pooling around my senses for just a second. He unlocked his door, but I didn't leave, quickly moving into his house as soon as he opened the door.

"Get out."

"Just give me a second."

Those cinnamony eyes turned a dark chocolate, with just a tinge of curiosity flashing. They met mine fiercely, as if challenging me. He kicks the door shut with his foot while his eyes don't leave mine. He leans up against it and crosses his arms around his chest, a deafening glare now resting on his beautifully chiseled face.

"I need a gun."

Cameron's eyes widened just slightly, almost causing me to believe it was my imagination. Yet he doesn't speak, so I feel as if I have to explain myself.

"I don't know very many people, and Carter really needs one, and I don't know much about you so I thought-"

Cameron walked slowly towards me, silencing me.

"Carter needs a gun?"

I nod, gulping slightly.

"He doesn't have one?"

I shake my head, shrugging softly.

"He asked me to get him a gun, and with all the money you had-"

He cuts me off again, another glare silencing my lips.

"You thought that with all the money I had, all the money you just accused me of earlier, I would spend it on you and buy you a gun? Most likely illegal, because we both know I'd never give a drug lord a gun in my name. And I'm not even old enough to buy one, so it would definitely have to be black market type of shit."

I just nod softly, unable to think up a smart ass response. He stands still for a second, pondering what I wanted from him.

"I'll do it."

Now it's my turn for my eyes to widen, hardly able to comprehend what this boy has stated. There has to be a catch.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, if you do something for me."

There it is.

I wait for him to keep talking, unable to imagine all the cruel ways he could get back at me for what I said earlier.

"When I buy your house, you have to promise you'll keep living there."

"Why?"

I was confused on why he wanted to buy it so bad, and even more so on why he wanted me to live there.

"Promise me you'll live there, and I'll buy you a gun."

"Carter, you'll buy Carter a gun."

"FIne, I'll buy Carter a gun. Just promise me."

"Fine"

Unnoticeably I moved my arm behind my back, crossing two fingers as I said it.

He never said crosses don't count.