✔Paint Me a Murder | Book 1

Chapter 10: Devil's Protection

Two weeks flew by for Kazimir, who'd gotten closer with the Voiceless Rebels gang leader during his stay at their hideout. All the drugs he got doped up with protected him from the pain as his shoulder healed.

The bitter wind outside their hideout coiled around his body like wispy snakes, hissing in his ears. Checking the news outlets had been a horrible mistake on his end, but seeing his cringey high school photo captioned with the headline: Artist accused of murder made him sick to his stomach.

How did his name get released so quickly? The police had to be feeding intel to the media. Or maybe Samantha leaked lies to a journalist? It didn't matter. Kazimir's face was out there for the world to see and condemn him to hell. He disabled his Instagram art account when the hate comments flooded in. Let them call him a coward for hiding.

Kazimir kicked a beer can across the pavement before sitting down on the ground. Liter scattered across the unkempt lawn of the gang's hideout, and the shabby fence girdling the property looked like it would collapse any day.

"Mind if I join you?"

Kazimir turned his head back as Emmett approached him. "Sure, go ahead."

Emmett plucked his Zippo from his breast pocket and lit a cigarette. He seemed hesitant about sitting on the ground at first, but plopped down beside Kazimir with a soft groan.

"How are you doing?" Emmett asked.

"I don't know, to tell you the truth," Kazimir admitted. "Have you seen the article about me?"

Emmett puffed out a plume of smoke. "Yeah, they shared it on the local news too."

"Wonderful," Kazimir muttered.

"Want a smoke?" Emmett gestured his carton out to him.

"Yeah, thanks." Kazimir accepted his cigarette. He drew it to his lips and allowed Emmett to light it for him. It took a couple flicks for a spark to ignite.

"You must keep a low profile. Try to keep your face hidden if you go out into the public."

Kazimir drew his cigarette back to his lips, inhaling the blissful nicotine to pacify his nerves. "You think someone might try to attack me?"

"They might. They're tired of all the violence going on with the gangs so they want to make you their scapegoat," he explained. "They want to punish you for murder."

Kazimir raked his hands through his hair. "Oh God. My life is over, isn't it?"

"No? What makes you say that?" Emmett asked. "You don't think we'll go down without a fight, do you? No charges have been made yet. It's all speculation."

"It's like I'm living in a nightmare." He sighed.

"No matter what happens, I've got your back, Kaz."

"Thanks. That means a lot. I'm glad I still have someone I can count on." Kazimir gave him a small smile.

Being alone terrified Kazimir. Just imagining himself locked up in a constricting cell sent chills across his body. He was grateful that Emmett believed in him and wanted to help.

"It'll be night before long. Are you ready for this? You'll get justice and Samantha will never fuck with you again." Emmett turned his head and coughed into his elbow.

"Good. After this, I never want to see her again," Kazimir told him.

"You know, I never expected someone like you to be the mysterious painter."

Kazimir shrugged. "I never expected someone like you to be a gang leader."

"I guess it's true what they say about looks being deceiving." Emmett drew his cigarette back to his lips.