2 - Elio’s POV

“What—”

My eyes dropped to the gun still clutched in his hand. Had Reed—

He had.

He was looking at me openly, not denying what he did.

What the fuck?

“What did you just do?!”

But I know what he did. He just killed two helpless girls, two out of the only two witnesses we had on the case. There’s no explanation he can give that will fly. He just murdered these girls in cold blood.

Why?

At that moment, I actually contemplated killing Reed. Right there and then, I really did. My fingers were itching to pull the trigger.

So I did.

But still, I didn’t shoot to kill. The bullet grazed his arm leaving a long line of blood. He winced, clutching at it, then grinned at me.

The fucking bastard must be compromised, he must be working for someome.

My bullet grazed his arm and I ducked and rolled, expecting him to fire back. He didn't. And not only did Reed trigger-happy Campbell not shoot at me, he turned and ran out of the room clutching his bleeding arm.

I followed after him immediately.

“Stop!”

Reed didn't stop, tossing random things he could get his hands on. As he passed the front door, he turned and pushed it shut, locking it. He didn't stop, and continued running for the car.

Motherfucker.

I shot the lock twice before it gave but by the time I got outside, Reed had already gotten in my car and driven off.

Panting, I watched him go. I wouldn’t let Reed escape me, escape the justice for what he had done here. But first, I needed to do something.

Ticking my gun into the waistband of my pants, I walked back inside the building, back to the girls.

The rage within me ignited anew when I saw them slumped against each other, when I could still see the trickle of tears down their cheeks.Then he turned around.

He gave me his back because he knew I wouldn’t do anything.

God, they were so young… having gone through so much with no respite.

I knelt then, flinching when I felt my leg touch the mixture of their blood. But I didn’t get up. I forced myself to stay because that couldn't hurt me nearly as much, even a fraction, as those bullets must have hurt them.

I prayed.

I prayed that wherever they were, they would find peace.

And then I prayed again when, three days later, I was at trial from their murder.

When Reed had taken my car, he had taken everything else with him. It took me so long to hitchhike all the way back to the precinct and by then I was fucking fuming.

But like a plot twist, the first thing I was greeted with, right at the door, was Reed's fist. I slammed mine back into his nose even though I was still reeling from the hit to my temple.

Then I was wrestled away from him and cuffed. The sound of the metal closing around my wrist prompted me to start screaming out about how Reed had killed two little girls.

But nobody seemed to fucking hear me.

And the next few days after that felt like a fucking fever dream.

My mother was devastated. She was in that court room everyday, her fear plastered in her face. Even when she tried to keep it together, she cried when she tried to vouch for my character. I'd comforted her in the beginning, that this would all blow over. But as the trial went on she became the one comforting me.

They claimed I was a criminal mastermind, and not without proof. There was evidence against me, damning me, painting me to have premeditated the murder of those little girls and then trying to pin it on Reed. Every time they revealed something new, I sat there as shocked as everyone else, because I too, was hearing it for the first time.

Apparently the reason I knew where the girls were was because I was part of the people hired to kill them. The bullets found in them were traced to a black market deal in my name and Reed submitted my spare gun for evidence, the gun that fired those bullets. I hadn’t even noticed he'd taken it.

Everything changed in a week.

Reed was the hero, the one who had taken my car, driving for his life to the precinct where he reported my heinous act. The one who worked closely with the officers on my case to provide them everything they needed as the partner to a monster.

It was his word and a mountain of ‘evidence’ against mine. Even if Reed wasn't the Commander’s son, I still did get a lawyer three days fresh out of law school.

It really was a curious thing at first.

The plot that was uncovered in my name. How things seemed to just slide in and fit in with the narrative. And how, try as I might, no actual established lawyer accepted to take my case, even when I promised them every penny I had.

So I was found guilty. They didn't even let me see my mother before I was carted off into a high security prison.

And so, as I wouldn't be there to prop it up, I knew the case I'd spent months building against Tibe would be quietly settled