Guns and Mirrors

FOURTEEN

This is a double update as per usual- Chapter 13 was uploaded before this so please make sure you read them in the correct order :)

♛Cameron Dawson ♛

I touch my fingers to the gash just along my jawline, that seems to be bleeding quite a lot, and hiss before grabbing the shirt I used to gym in and pressing it to the wound.

After I had thrown the body of the man into the boot of the car, we returned to the gang where I discovered the back entrance where they seemed to unload items at. Ramiro helped me drag the body inside and to Jack's office. After Jack had given me a wide smile and made sure that the victim was a member of the rival gang- which was evident by the tattoos and bandana he had- he had pat me on the back as if what I did was something to be proud of. Before I could say anything, Jack was flipping out a switchblade and pressing it to my jaw, swiping at the skin.

It was the Slither's mark.

Besides the tattoos and jackets, I've come to notice that all the members have a scar under their jawline. And now I know why- after completing the initiation it was what you're marked with.

My mind and heart don't really know what to make of the fact that I'm officially part of the gang. I'm no longer just someone being blackmailed into obedience, but I'm a part of the syndicate. These are the people I'm supposed to rely on, call family, and sit and laugh with. But I don't want that. I don't want to be tied to them. I don't want anything to do with them.

But I think the more pressing question is- what am I supposed to make of the fresh blood on my hands? Is this blood going to drown me in a life of turmoil and suffering just like Carla and Frank's brother's did? The lack of guilt on my shoulders gives me a louder answer than I want and I grip my steering wheel tighter. How can I call myself human when I just killed a man and lack the remorse he deserves? He might have been part of a gang and no doubt done horrible things but who am I to send him to his doom? Perhaps one could say that it's my basic instinct of survival- do what I have to do to survive and feel no mercy in doing it. But I can't.

The guilt of playing a role in Carla's life will always haunt me and weigh me down and I wish I could escape that sorrow and grief and guilt but now... now I want to feel guilty for killing a man. I want to feel guilty for doing everything I've tried to avoid.

But I don't.

Because if I didn't kill that man, Harley and I are as good as dead and I refuse to let them hurt her. If I have to kill to save her, I will. If I have to die to save her, I will.

I should have shot Frank that day in the stophouse but I let my mercy and sympathy prevent me from doing it and Harley was forced to take the stand. If I had just done what I knew I needed to that day, Harley wouldn't be suffocating in guilt and remorse. And I will do anything to protect her from feeling anything like that again... even if it means betraying myself.

I'm a fool for thinking I can escape this life, but I'm mostly a fool for believing that I am better than who I used to be.

When I'm parked in the parking lot, I look at my review mirror to see a long trail of blood disappearing down my neckline and I curse under my breath. Harley is going to be furious, livid. I grab my stuff and climb out of the car, locking the door and making my way up to the apartment. When I've unlocked it and I've dumped all of my stuff on the floor, Harley exits the bedroom in nothing but one of my hoodies but I don't get to admire her in it when she's suddenly racing to me with frantic hands and worried eyes as she grabs my face to get a better look at my new scar to come.

"What happened?" She asks urgently and I sigh. How do I tell her what I've done? How do I make it seem okay even though it isn't?

"I... I completed the initiation." I respond as she inspects the proof of it. Her eyebrows raise in surprise before a daunting look overcomes her features. She drops her hands back go her side.