Saved By My Step-Brother

Chapter 11 - "Step one foot closer and I'm putting a bullet in you"

- August POV, 6 years ago -

There were certain points during my time with Dante, that made me realize certain aspects of my individuality. As for Theo, it was another moment that was left imprinted in my mind, made me recognize the guilt that I was to live with for the rest of my life. However, the outcome of Ella and Bella, his innocent twins that he had not been able to protect, made me realize how weak I really was.

I screamed, at the highest pitch my voice could reach. It was deafening, that the toddlers began sobbing in their seat. My eyes remained closed, attempting to guide the car as Dante indicated without opening them. I knew if I did, I would instantly lose consciousness, because the weight that fell onto my shoulders was not only an illusion, and opening my eyes made it real. The vehicle soon reached a complete stop, and before Dante could say anything, I pulled open my door, and distanced myself from the car. When I felt as if I was far enough, I finally opened my eyes, my skin soon feeling the warm blood that had splattered on my face, and my palms. Along with that, there was a glob on my neck, and when I realized it was brain residue, I collapsed to my knees and began sobbing, screaming, attempting to dig into the pavement with my nails. I was unsure what to think, nor what to do, but cry as if I had been the one that got shot, or the one to lose such a loving father.

I heard the toddlers yelling in the backseat, and it was not long until Dante descended from the vehicle, jogging to reach me. When he arrived near me, although anger sharpened his features, he calmed his rage, and knelt in front of me, wrapping his arms around me. I leaned against his shoulder, continuing to cry and seeing my hands covered in red, the blood of the man that had died next to me. He was no longer to breathe, and just like that, his existence was ridiculed, as if it did not even mean anything. It was all done by one man, and one gun, and poof, the lives of his family were to change forever. His wife was to never hear from him again, and his mother would have her last breaths being told that her son had died from murder.

I felt as if my throat had clenched, not allowing oxygen to enter nor leave. Therefore, I began choking, and he panicked, laying me on my back and calmly telling me to fall at ease. It felt as if there were fingers ripping my flesh from my body, and my skin burned, seeming as if a fire had elicited on me. I could not put it out, and I was unsure if I ever could, or ever would. Dante soothed me for a while, until I was calm enough to sit without screaming. My breathing was irregular, huffing and puffing without my control, as if I had just ran a marathon. However, Dante walked towards the vehicle, and he cursed loudly, pulling the body of the father out from the car. Blood splattered onto the ground, his face was pushed in, and half was gone, leaving a huge hole where his skull had been. Instantly, I vomited, gasping for air by every growl of my stomach and continuing to puke.

Dante laughed as he dragged the body of the man within the woods beside the road, and the blood trail disgusted me, that I turned away. However, when I heard the crying of the twins in the backseat, as they smelled the danger but could only express their fear through tears, I stood to my feet and sprinted to the car, opening the backseat door and scaring them even more as they glanced in my direction.

"It's okay," I cooed quietly, attempting to comfort them as my hands filled with their father's blood patted their heads gently. One of them calmed down, staring at me with remaining caution in her eyes, while the other sobbed quieter, but observed me. They're pulled out bottom lip was causing my heart to clench, and I leaned forward, placing a long warm peck on their foreheads. "It's alright," I whispered, "I have you guys."

I refrained from glancing towards the front seats, since I knew it would throw my mind into a daze. However, when one of the toddlers reached for my hand, and gripped one of my finger tightly, as if to hold me from escaping, I bursted into tears. I felt horrible, the guilt eating me from inside and I could not stop it. I felt like piercing into my skin with my nails and grab my heart, squeezing it until I fell and died myself. They were such beautiful young girls, and their gorgeous navy blue eyes were ones I would never forget.

"What are you doing?"

I had not heard his footsteps that when his voice was heard very close to my ear, I was startled, and flinched. The toddlers noticed the change in my behaviour, and they both began sobbing again. Dante cursed, and pushed me away from the door, although I attempted to resist.

"They're cute," he commented, but a sinister smirk peeled his mouth. "Too bad we cant keep them, there's only one other option—"

"Dante," I muttered, and he glanced in my direction. I was trembling, but those kids did not deserve to get their lives taken away, "leave them alone."

Dante raised an eyebrow in my direction, and smirked, "Excuse-me?"

"Just shoot me," I begged, "have mercy on them and shoot me instead. They don't deserve to die, they're young girls, they have names."

"I didn't deserve to die either," he roared, his face becoming sharp and tensing, "but I did anyway."

I gulped, shaking my head as I approached him, gripping his shirt that was filled with blood. He also had stains on his face, and it caused him to appear much more sinister and delusional than he already was. As tears left trails along my face, all my mind could think about was saving those toddlers. They needed a life, and had the unfortunate fate to have landed within the hands of Dante and I. I raised my head, and met his light blue gaze, but they only stared back with pure disgust, and disappointment that I whimpered, continuing to sob. The toddlers were also crying in the car, and all the sobbing from different corners was boggling Dante's mind.

He placed his palms above his ears as his teeth tightened against one another, cringing from the sound, "Stop crying, all of you!" However, although my breath became stuck within my throat and my mouth instantly slammed shut, the toddlers' didn't. They were terribly scared, staring with horror as Dante pushed me off from him and grabbed their seat, pulling them both outside the vehicle. I watched as he marched around the car, grumbling curse words under his breath as he followed the blood trail of their father. The instance I attempted to follow, he reached in his belt and aimed his gun towards me.

"Step one foot closer and I'm putting a bullet in you," he shouted angrily.

I halted for a moment. The pause made my legs begin to tremble, but hearing those children scream for their lives as it was seen as a mere nuisance to Dante, made my feet begin moving once more. Dante did what he had said, he pulled the trigger, and in an instant, I collapsed onto the ground, an atrocious pain echoing through my body, but as I reached on my left shoulder, I could feel my palm warm by trickling liquid, and as I pulled my hand to examine it, it was filled with blood. My eyes widened, and I raised my head to meet his gaze.

His features appeared to have softened, as he lowered his gun and sighed, "I'll be back. Don't die." Then, he disappeared within the woods, as I laid on my back, my breathing becoming struggled as my throat clenched on itself. I had difficult breathing, my body reaching panic mode and all my nerves running wild as blood continued to pour recklessly. The sweat was dripping from me abnormally, and I felt my lips beginning to dry with my command. Suddenly, a gunshot that resounded from the trees made me flinch, and when I realized what it symbolized, tears flushed my face. It was not long until I fell unconscious, laying onto the dirt beside the vehicle.

That was another moment during our trip, that I realized how weak I truly was. I was unable to save those children, could not even flicker a bit of sanity within Dante's mind. It made me question whether it was my sanity that was obscured, rather than Dante's. Either way, my steps were following his footsteps, trailing behind him and helping him. Therefore, the death of those children was partly my doing as well, an accusation my heart was never able to redeem itself from. I was too weak to do anything.