Reed (Book 2, Southern Royals Saga)

Chapter 29: Blood in the Streets

I was trapped.

Trapped.

"Game's over, Brandon," the Sheriff announced through a blowhorn, "Come out to meet your fate."

His police cruiser's lights never ceased their flashing; Vincent's truck sat next to it, his headlights on brightly, nearly blinding me. I gripped the steering wheel in my hands, contemplating running the fuckers over.

Fuck it.

I revved the engine, only stopping when four people stepped out from Vincent's truck.

Abby. Noah. Luke. Owen.

All equally terrified.

"They're all alive right now," Robert started, "Join us in the road, and they'll stay that way." He stood behind Noah and Luke, a shield.

My door was swung open then, Marcus standing over me with his pistol. He wore a snarky smirk, flicking the safety off on his gun.

"You had to know this day would come."

I glance back at Watson, a devilish smirk crossing his face.

Robert Watson was going to kill me.

Avoiding glancing in the direction of the woods in which Liv fled, I took a deep breath and chuckled.

This was it.

This is what it came down to.

Eighteen years on this earth, eighteen years of being someone I didn't want to be...

What it came down to was this: I was sacrificing myself for the people I was taught to hate and distrust.

I stepped out of the borrowed car, smirking at the gun trained on me. I walked past Marcus, slamming the door shut with the heel of my boot.

My smirk quickly died away when I saw a fifth hostage pulled from the back of Vincent's truck.

The girl, she looked terrified; of her dad, of me, or both.

Mya.

"You're kidding me, right? You double-crossed us? You?"

"He's my father," she whispered apologetically, shivering in plain sight as she stood beside Vincent.

"And Zoey was your best friend! These fuckers killed her, and you do this?!"

"Lies!" Will spat, glaring at me, "Take his gun,"

"Try, and see how long you live," I spat, halting Marcus as he pushed me against the car, ready to frisk me.

Fucking amateur.

Will raised his Glock, instilling fear as he stood between Watson and his youngest half-brother, aiming the gun right at Abby's blonde mane.

"Give him your gun," Will flicked off his safety, "Or I will splatter her brains all over this road."

Abby had no emotion on her face; none, but rage.

Noah's eyes grew wide, the thought of losing Abby again was more than he could bear.

Luke visibly shook, though he was the only one a gun wasn't trained on.

Owen turned his head slowly, from one side to the other, telling me to resist.

Then they would all die.

No.

I reached behind me and pulled out my Colt, holding it grip upwards. Marcus took it, then grabbed my arm roughly, dragging me to my companions.