Killer One ✓

Chapter 12

Lacey.

Lucky led us out of the room and Travis watched him with a glint in his eyes that I hadn't seen in weeks. He spared a glance at me and I held in my cringe at the blood littered all over his face. He gave me no explanation for what happened or why Lucky was beating him to a pulp when I came in.

The crazy eyed guard that pinned my arm behind my back pushed me from behind to get me moving after the others. I shot him a glare.

He should be thanking me for not telling Lucky what exactly happened to cause us to be late. I was positive that if Lucky knew, Mr. Crazy Eyes wouldn't be joining us on whatever little excursion we were about to have.

He was right when he said I broke free, with him chasing after me down the hall. I didn't have to try hard. He let go of me so I could tie my shoe and as soon as I finished, I sprinted down the hall, turning and veering every way I saw. I opened every door I could, screaming along the way. I didn't have time to peek inside every door to see if anyone was in there. I saw a few people but wasn't sure about some of the other rooms but I didn't care. As long as the door was open, they might have been able to hear me yelling.

I had screamed for help to get attention. I yelled that Scully was dead. I told them Lucky was going to pay the Dacostas to take their places. I screamed to leave while they could.

No one said anything. A few people poked their heads out of the doors while Mr. Crazy Eyes yelled after me and that was good enough.

Crazy Eyes practically tackled me once he caught up and pulled my arm behind my back, hard enough to hurt. He pushed me back down the hallways we'd gone and I glanced in rooms that hadn't shut their doors again except when we passed a storage closet. I made sure to not look in there because I didn't want to give any hints towards me possibly knowing what was residing inside. When I was running, I'd seen it only for a moment and it had caused me to stumble: a black leather jacket on the shelf. One that looked identical to Travis', along with a pair of brass knuckles on top of it. Next to it, there was some straps and I didn't stop long enough to see if they were my leg straps Travis had meticulously picked out. I didn't have time to see if they were our things or if anything else was with it.

I was walking behind Travis, Vik, and Lucky. The white tiled floor had taken on an off-white, yellow sheen from dust and dirt gathering on it and no one to properly clean it. A few splashes of blood were in my path and I stepped around it.

"He's dripping blood," I said loud enough for Lucky to hear. "He's making a mess."

There was a long sigh from up front as Lucky pinched the bridge of his nose while turning around to face me.

"What?" he asked like I was such a burden on him.

I pointed to Travis. "You should let him clean up."

Lucky smirked at me for a moment, like I'd given away something vital and I knew it was obvious that I cared about Travis more than I told him originally which was fine. I didn't care. Let him think I was a liar. I wanted him to sit and wonder which words out of my mouth were truths and which ones would stab him in the back.

"Unless you want him bleeding in your car," I added and put a hand on my hip as I waited for him to decide.

Blood on his car seats would undoubtedly ruin his image.

Travis mimicked me without a word, a hand placed so casually on his waist, and ignored me when I shot him a look. His stance was horrendously out of character. I didn't know what game he was playing at right now but it was confusing me. That wasn't the first time he'd copied what I was doing and he was making a strange habit out of it. I wasn't sure if the Travis right now was Travis messing around or if it was the drugs.