THE B TEAM // Pretty Little Liars #WATTYS2014 #FANFICTION

Chapter 21: The Gun's Owner

“Would you like some help with that?” Wes said, as he looked at my trembling hands trying to shove the bullets into my gun. He smirked a lop sided grin as he watched me.

I gave him an annoyed look but shoved it into his hands anyway. Guns were the best weapons but apparently they had done mental damage on me. I had to fix that soon. Preferably on a kindergartener who was about the same size and features as Annie.

“Are you sure this is where you saw her last?” I whispered to Wesley who was crouched down beside me. He stood up and handed me the gun, removing his from his back pocket in the process. We stood beside a one story house that was a part of a private compound. 

“Affirmative, my lady,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before raising his gun, looking left to right, and then shoving is quickly back into his pocket. He moved over to the recycle bin I pulled himself up onto it effortlessly. Then he grabbed the edge of the house’s roof and swung himself up onto it, disappearing from my eyesight. A few seconds later, a hand shot out. I shoved the gun into my pocket and followed, grabbing onto his hands as he hoisted me up and over the railing.

I turned around to face Wesley before a hand rammed into my side. I tilted myself away from the edge of the roof while absorbing the impact and landing with my back on the solid brick roof. My gun wasn’t that fortunate. It flung away from me, falling over the edge. “Wes! What the he-“

But it wasn’t Wes I was looking at. Instead, a person covered in head to to e n black gear was towering over me holding a silver butchers knife gleaming in the moonlight.

I grabbed the bricks underneath my hands and twisted myself away just as All Black stepped forward and flung down the knife, sliding between the bricks where my hands would’ve been.

The thing is, I always won wars with my mouth. Never with my fists.

I could feel my heart beating rapidly and sweat broke on my forehead as I pushed myself to stand up while my eyes searched for anywhere Wesley could be.

You wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t me. Towards the edge of the left side of the roof, one of the bricks looked like it had been grabbed onto. Grip marks had wrapped around it and it had moved from it’s fixed position on the roof.

The Knife came at my head.

I ducked and kicked out at the same time, aiming for the legs and hitting one but not with enough force to make the attacker topple over.

Panic surged through me. Wesley. He was pushed off the roof. But in what way? It was a one story house but the height could have resulted death depending on the way he fell.

A fist slammed into my face, taking the breath out of me. I was thrown onto the roof once again. My whole body pressed up against the bricks.

I was running out of ideas. There was only one thing I could do, and that was scare my attacker.

“Your stance reveals your back ground,” I said quickly in short breaths, shuffling myself back with my arms.  “You learnt to fight and was never properly trained. Your inability to speak to me reveals your identity is precious. That you do not want me to know. The Knife reveals your intelligence, which is none as it is the worse weapon someone could ever pick.

I received a kick to my side, my back rocketing in pain. I used the opportunity slam my fist into their knee, making them stumble back. Just enough time for me to leap up and run towards the edge of the roof and leap over to the next one.

All the while looking down to see Wesley’s bloody body on the ground.