The Tears I Shed For Him...

Chapter 23~ Nahuel's POV

Picture== New cover!!! Thank you to @TheGreatEscapeX  it's amazing. I love it! <3

Song== Better Off by Next September

~~Collect your tears~Gather your things~Watch this room collapse in place~You leave a note to say: you have to get away~To burn to ashes, your pictured past and say~ What have you learned today?~The world begins to shake~The mind begins to race~Say is this right for you?~~

Chapter 23~ Nahuel’s POV

            Rage.

            Hot, boiling, sizzling…it commences from the bottom of my gut, then slowly, agonizingly, does it make its way up into the back of my throat; deliberately choking me with its molten heat.

I was at a breaking point; all I see is red. It’s been one week. One week! And Elaine is yet to be found. I spoke with Ian, as soon as I had received news of her abduct, but he has not moved a single finger to help aid me. He said I could trust him with anything, just as he could trust me, yet he has not proved himself worthy to me at all.

            Tonight there was to be a meeting in an old warehouse in which we have set as our headquarters now. Ian ordered we all be there to discuss an issue over the stolen money of the school. If I can help it, I’ll set apart a searching party to look for Elaine. To hell with Ian!

            I charged into the room, not even bothering to knock. The warehouse was rather densely crowded with the majority of our members of this district. It surprised me that everyone even bothered in showing up. Perhaps Ian’s intimidating demands got to them this time. The meeting had already begun—or so it seemed that way—for as soon as I barged in, they all parted to give me a perfect glance of Ian pointing out on a game plan he set on a thin wooden table set under the cone of the ceiling light. Quiet murmurs surged among coalesce of guys; ignoring them I continued to stalk forward—my glare nailed on Ian.

            From my peripheral vision I saw as most of his homeboys made a subtle move toward the waistband of their baggy jeans. I smirked to myself, internally rolling my eyes at their idiocy. Ian noticed my lack of hesitation and straightened himself up from his crouching position across over the table. He matched my glare with as much venom as he seemed to garner before smoothing out the planes of his features into an award winning poker face.

            “Glad you can make it, Corona.” He nodded; his stormy grey eyes slicing down to the papers splayed out on the table. Up close I realized it was made of some sort of cheap wood that had already begun to chip and splinter from constant misuse. This pathetic excuse for a table stood as the only hindered that kept me from ripping Ian’s arms out of their sockets at the moment, however, I can change that just as easily. He swiped up the sheets of what seem to be ordinary computer paper, scrawled on messily with red ink pen. Well I’d be damned, who would have ever guessed for Ian—out of all people—to be so organized. In spite the given situation at hand, I would have found the site to be mildly humorous. Setting the papers in a neat pile, he set them back on the table before reaching over to his waistband where he retrieved a 10 mm semi-automatic revolver, its sleek charcoal black surface glistened with deadly promises under the cone of light. My reflexes kicked in and just as fast did I swipe out my own pistol—the barrel aimed, unwavering, at his heart. If Ian was scared, he didn’t show it; typical Ian, always having to keep an impassive demeanor. There was an echo of audible clicks as his posse mimicked our moved and too retrieved their weapons—each aimed with fine precision at me. I might succeed in killing Ian if I pulled the trigger, but there was no way in hell that I would make it out of this alive—or even in one piece for that matter.