Killer Bad Girl | COMPLETED

Chapter 48 - Fury

Burning rage seethed through my bones like deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of destruction.

It was like a volcano erupting; fury was sweeping off me like ferocious waves. I want him broken. I want him to pay.

I want revenge.

There is blood on my knuckles and bruises around my neck, but I can't recall the previous fight. All I know at that moment is that my conscious craved blood for blood.

I didn't feel the burn of bone against bone as my fist collided with the scruff of his jaw. I didn't care for the twist in my knuckles or the bone snapping outward creating a tent of bone and skin distinctly out of place. I could only see the satisfactory sight of Ryder stumbling backwards his mouth hanging open a mixture of spit and blood hanging from his lips as he seemingly choaked on the heaviness of his own short and uneven breaths.

I made a move to strike at him again, he raised his wrist. Gun clutched in hand. Barrel pointed sharply in my direction.

Abruptly, I am laughing so hard; I can't stop. I wave my hand in the air, as a flag of apology. I don't know why, but the waves of laughter keep coming. I catch my breath and snort, staring at him wide-eyed, "You won't shoot me."

His eyes narrowed into cat-like slits, "Now, why would you do think that?" he asked, idle curiosity dripping from his words, but I can see it cross his face better then I could hear it in his perfectly mastered emotionless words.

I shrug, "Because you still love me."

He froze as if water from the north pole itself had been splashed over his head. "I-I don't," he mutters his words out as if he was trying to convince himself more then me. His skin turns a shade of ghost white so pale that he almost resembles Sophie.

In his state of shock, I smirk, "Oh yes you do."

His eyes flash off mine onto something behind me, and I accept the opportunity to strike again with open arms. I jump forward snatching the gun from his hand before he has a chance to blink.

The sound of a trigger rings through the air before I give him or myself a chance to take one more breath. My hand is knocked back at the pressure, and a murderous sense of satisfaction sends goosebumps across my skin.

"No!" He cries, the gun slips through my fingers and drops to the floor. It bounces off the bloodied ground before flattening and lying still, a weapon that held enough power to claim a life now nothing but a culter of shiny metal. For a mere moment, the world stills, then his eyes enlarge, his fingers shake, his knees grow as weak as overly cooked spaghetti, and he collapses to his knees with no one going to catch him.

Blood drips from his lips, his fingers wrap around his stomach, a sad attempt at slowing the rivers of blood seeping through the wound."Sasha?" He whimpers, his hands reaches for me a desperate look swirls in the depths of his brown eyes, "Please."

I didn't need to try and hide how I felt from him because I genuinely felt nothing, I didn't care that he was dying. I didn't care that it was my fault.

I walked over to him until I was standing next to him, his still desperately raised hand brushes my leg he tries to pull me to him. I squat down to his level and lace my fingers through his. Ryder's lips twitch upwards, and his eyes begin to water in gratitude. His mouth pops open, and through his groans, he murmurs words that mean nothing to me, "I love you, I-I am sorry."

I smile and lean down far enough for my lips to brush his ear; I toy with his fingers before abruptly tearing my fingers away from his desperate grasp. "Not even death will make me forgive you."

I pull away in time to see the words process through his mind. He shakes, and his eyes stare into mine with so much pain that I almost care. But, I don't. I stand as his head rolls back and, his eyes flutter close. I step away from him, a tear slips down my cheek, but it wasn't for him.

The chaos around me still rages on as the police force burst through the doors, their guns aimed high. People riot, rushing to attack the police in their intense desire for bloodshed. Had they arrived hours earlier none of this would have happened, but the combination of the riot, the gunshot was probably what informed them of illegal acts occurring.

I can't run from them. I don't want too. A man in a navy blue uniform pushes through; he scans the room at the same time my eyes examine him in disbelief. Then his familiar green eyes land on me.

"Damian!" The weakness in my voice is something I can't bring myself to care about an I rush through the riot toward him.

"Sasha?" He mouths, or at least I think that's what he says as I fling myself at him.

His embrace was warm, and his big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around my frail body. The world around me melted away as I squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end. His familiar scent found my lungs, and I smile into his uniform-clad chest.

"I thought we would never find you guys." He murmurs into the tangles of my hair, relief clinging to his words. I stiffen, and my arms stiffen around him. He seems to read into my reaction and pulls away from the hug to scan my face. "Sasha," He starts slowly as he's walking on dangerous waters, "Where is Sophie?"

The tears roll down my cheeks, and the sensation of the warm substance begins to feel so familiar to me, will they ever stop flowing? Will it ever be okay again? Will I ever be okay?

"She-" I hesitate, "She's gone, Damian."

Despite the fact that he and her never really knew each other a sad look overtakes his face, his eyes travel over my head and he sees what I had previously been running from. He doesn't say anything but brings me back to his chest again; I readily accept the embrace. The world is a blur as he slowly leads me through the path that the police had cleared of the riot and rubs soothing circles on my back as we walk away from my own hell story.