Severed Ties

Confessions

Cameron

There was something rather therapeutic about smashing a chair over your father's head. Especially when that father, had done everything possible to make your life a living misery, trying to kill your mother, then your wife, then trying to kidnap your wife once more. There was a plethora of reasons why I would have enjoyed the distinct contact of metal and flesh.

"You've waited your whole life to say that haven't you, sweetheart?" Alara reached me as she ran through the flames that were beginning to die down. We were being honed in on, loyal defectors of my gang, rushing to aid my father. It took everything in me not to put a put a bullet through each of their heads.

"My father-" Alara began before realising that Damon Mortello wasn't her father anymore, "Damon is somewhere around here and he will be coming straight for us."

"Lucky for you I have an escape plan," I brandished Mel's motorcycle keys, the clinking of the metal somehow making it's way through the chaos.

Her eyes glimmered, "Have I told you I love you?"

I chuckled lowly as we began to sprint towards the door, skidding by attackers that were running towards us, trying to turn at an angle as we parted ways. I watched as Alara dug her elbows into two men trying to grab her, flooring another by tripping them up so they fell into some of their colleagues.

"Not enough."

I took out my gun, shooting point blank at anyone that tried to get in my wife's way. Giving her time to pull out her own gun, she shot twice, one in the shoulder, one in the leg, she never did go for the chest, too many vital organs and too much of a pure heart within her own body.

There was the smog from the fire curling out towards the open banquet hall doors, escaping an dissipating into the night. Trying to reach the stars before they dissolved out of existence. 

I tried to keep my peripheral vision on Alara at all times. There were swarms of dark clad attackers, with hunger in their eyes and blood on their hands. I was throwing punches, ducking behind overturned tables pushed to the side, wiping the sweat off of my brow and trying to make sure that I was out the line of sight of any guns that wanted to plunder soft flesh.

The cloying scent of blood didn't faze me anymore, there was too much I had seen and witnessed, too many sounds I had heard that I didn't believe were able to embody anguish better than a guttural scream.

There was so much rage in me, I didn't notice that there was someone surveying me. When I felt their presence it was too late, they had grabbed my from behind, cutting off my oxygen supply by pushing their fingers against my windpipe.

"This is what you get for ruining her, it was perfect so perfect. Alara, dear Alara, so naive so willing to do anything to protect her family. To protect me," I sputttered out a cough, trying to use my hands to rip his off of mine.

"Oh no you don't," by the throat he lifted me, and slammed me to the ground, I felt blood trickle from my head, a dangerous amount of pain rushing through it's side. Splitting into fissures of pain that were unrelenting.

My vision clouded, the air scarce in my lungs, "Doesn't that just kill you. Alara would have done anything to protect Me. She was prepared to marry you, the monster that is Cameron Grayson. And you couldn't just marry her. You couldn't just let things be. You had to love her. She doesn't deserve love Grayson," his eyes bulged, spittle raining down from his split lips pure rage gunning through him.

I couldn't breath, move or speak, my hands weak, clawing to the side trying to find where my gun had fallen. This infuriated him more, he pressed a boot against my arm, breaking the bone beneath, the snap ringing in my ears as I gasped for breath.

Damon Mortello was going to kill me.

"Kill me then, as long as she's safe, I don't give a fuck what you do," I tried to spit in his face but all that got me was another press of his shoe against my bruising skin, damage that I was sure would be irreversible. 

"Not until you know," he grinned maniaclly, her teeth far too shiny, the fire dancing in his eyes, "Alara may be naive but she is not innocent. She is dangerous. I have watched her grow, each day she has this hunger in her, this need to take, to spill blood."

"Alara, has never killed anyone,"

"Are you so sure?"

My heart thundered through my chest, the blood was too much, a few more seconds and I would be crushed under the weight of all of this pain, "What the hell do you mean?"

"Alara, almost killed me."

My throat went dry this time not because of the fettered hands gripping, my head spun, as I imagined her, Alara the sweetest girl trying to kill, it shouldn't have affected me, I had killed, maimed tortured. But Alara?

"Almost?" and there she was, a burning dress, matted hair and wicked eyes, "I didn't try to kill you."

Relief washed through me.

"I failed to kill you."