The Best Of Us

Chapter 16 - Part 2: Going In For The Kill

Chapter Sixteen - Part Two: Going In For The Kill

Unknown POV

I stared at Reed like he'd grown wings. He stared back at me with his keen eyes, observing my reaction. I was so stunned, I spluttered and shook my head. Suddenly the air around us seemed to close in on me.

"Wha-What?" I gasped. "You wanna kill him? You outta your mind?"

"No. I'm serious. I've had enough of his shit. He thinks he can leave? Well, he's wrong." Reed sneered, his face twisting in an ugly frown.

"Calm down, bro." I said. "Come on, you don't have to kill the guy."

"Me?" Reed chuckled. "Nah, I'm not gonna kill him. You are."

I stared at him, my mouth dry. He eyed me, clearly amused as if he'd just suggested I should egg someone's house or prank call someone. Life meant nothing to him. He's sick, I thought. Delusional. He's like Joker from Batman and he cherishes chaos. I shook my head.

"No way. You're crazy." I muttered.

"Well I guess this means you can't join the gang then." He faked a sigh and turned. "I thought you were a perfect replacement for Khalid."

I couldn't help it. Desire crept through my veins and pierced my heart with longing. I almost cursed then, as realization occurred to me. Of course, I thought darkly. This is what he came for. He wants me to kill Khalid and then he'll reward me with a position in the gang while he sits back and lets me do all the dirty work. He wont even have to dust off his hands if he gets me to kill Khalid.

"Your loss," I muttered, halfheartedly.

"Are you sure?" Reed snapped, spinning on his heel and walking up to me so his face was inches from mine. "Cause it'll be a bigger loss for you."

"I don't...I can't-" I tried but stopped at his glare.

"I can make you the richest drug dealer in this city. You can have everything. Money. Girls. Respect." He spit the last word out, emphasizing it.

I scowled. He knew my father beat the crap out of me every night. He knew my siblings were in rival gangs and that joining his would make them practically bow down to me. I wanted that. I wanted that feeling of security and respect. My brothers will never sneer down at me again if I joined a gang that they feared. And as for my father, well, he wouldn't think I was a complete failure if I put money on the table. He'd get off my case.

"Think about it. You need to kill one little, worthless person and then you can have it all." Reed whispered, watching as I fought the desire that crept over me. "He's not important, so the world wont even care when he's gone. You're way more important than him. What has he done? His life was so meaningless. But yours? Your family might think you're worthless now, so show them that you aren't."

A dark image flashed in my mind. My brothers bowing their heads in respect to me. My dad's face when he sees that his youngest son brings home more cash than his yearly salary combined. Mom would be proud if she were alive. No one needs to know where the money comes from, my mind whispered. They'll finally respect you.

"The question is: is it worth killing for?" Reed asked, stepping back. "You decide."

"It is." I growled, hungrily. "I'll do it."

* * *

When I was younger, my mother would tell me bedtime stories. Sometimes they were meaningless and playful. But sometimes they were deep lessons disguised as children's tales. To this day, I never heard them twice. It was like my mother made them up and whispered them in my ear as I fell asleep in her lap. My favorite story was about a lion who entered a camp of hunters. He knew they were killers. He knew they could kill him, but he wanted his son whom they had brutally taken away from him.