Confessions of a Wanton

23 Bullets

🎶 Slow motion : Nickel back 🎶

Damien:

Standing on the rooftop, rifle in hand, stock on my shoulder, eyes trained on my target, I let out the breathe I'd been holding. He's standing in my cross hairs, fucking the blonde bent over a desk as if he hadn't kidnapped my fucking mate. As if he hadn't ripped my heart from my chest yet again. As if he hadn't flaunted it in front of me as I was helpless to do anything. Again.

I can't hear the blonde from here but by the way her face is screwed up she's definitely not making sounds of pain. She'd be screaming for an entirely different reason soon. I can't bring my self to give a fucking shit.

The building I'm on is shadowed, short enough that I can see through the semi tinted windows at a small angle. The CEO office is at the top of the building, letting me know he's slumming it. I count the amount of windows from the ground, deducing that he's in the accounting department. So, blonde and not dumb? I doubt that. Arlene was good for one thing. Seems this blonde is too. I could be wrong. But I don't give a fuck. I know I'm bitter, but it's hard not to be.

The .338 Lapua feels light in my hands. The Navy made sniper rifle is painted black, I don't want any sunlight glinting off, revealing my hiding place. I'm wearing dark clothes and a black winter mask to hide my face.

Roman made a good choice picking this gun. Its unmarked, untraceable. Another reason Roman is my Beta. He knows just what I mean when I ask for something, without really having to elaborate. It's designed to take down large game, and my prey is some of the largest. I don't know if this will work. But I'm not going to let that fucker live for what he's done. Or at least I'm gonna hurt him. Badly.

I had felt when he marked her. Felt his teeth sinking into her flesh as if he'd been claiming me instead. That fuck head piece of mother fucking shit has the three of us in an very unwanted circle-jerk. I can feel his fucking emotions. Hers are so fucking suppressed somehow. I can't even feel where she is.

I can't fucking stand it.

Why does he always fuck with me so hard? What more can he possibly gain? Had it been his intention to have me mark her? I don't think so. He's a possessive fucker. Maybe he thinks I took her from him?

I'd do it again in a fucking heartbeat. She's worth it.
And just imagining the look on the pricks face when he first saw my mark sends a shiver down my spine. Fucking pleasure that I have something he wants for once, sadness that he'd taken her for his own shortly after, fear that she's hurt somewhere. I know she can handle herself, but I don't want her to feel the way she'd felt all her life anymore. I want her to be happy. Charlotte has made me weaker. Weaker for her. She's my one liability. My one crack in the wall that could send me tumbling. I can feel it happening. Like I'm fucking humpty-dumpty or some shit.

I smile under the mask, she's got me thinking of kid stories. Got me feeling some type of way...

I need her in my life like I've never needed anything before. I love my family. But this woman... I need her like I need to breathe.

I look down the scope. Staring down at my brother as his conflicting emotions wash over me, before placing my finger over the trigger.

Fuck this shit. I'm quitting the force anyways, If I'm caught, Roman knows where to take the pack.

The trigger slides under my finger, releasing the bullet to end it all.

🏴‍☠️
<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>

🎶 Bad Moon Rising 🎶
🎶Creedence Clearwater Revival🎶

Jax: