CHAPTER SIX

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( SIX : WICKED TALE )

( SIX : WICKED TALE )

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"...IT'LL LOOK BETTER if we suffer a little bit first."

It's official. Murphy has gone completely crazy.

That was the first thought that crossed her mind as she stared at the scene before her. She'd always thought Murphy had a few screws loose, but this is a whole other level of insanity...

And it was clear that she wasn't the only one uncomfortable with what was happening either; the delinquents that followed the sound of the girl's screams traded uncertain and troubled murmurs at the sight of Murphy holding the whimpering girl over the fire—her face dangerously close to the flames.

Wells had been the first to make a move, storming toward them angrily. "Let her go!" He shouted and violently shoved Murphy in an attempt to get him off the girl, but it ended up sending both of them tumbling to the ground—away from the fire.

Elissa hurried over, pulling the still sobbing girl gently away from the two boys and away from the flames. "Hey, hey. You're all right," she mumbled soothingly to her, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders, even as she stared at the broiling conflict in front of her with steely eyes.

After shoving Murphy away, Wells whirled around to face Bellamy, body tensed like a coil, ready to spring into action in a second's notice. "You can stop this." The comment was said almost pleadingly; clearly banking on Blake being the saner, smarter of the group.

During Wells confrontation with Bellamy, he turned his back to Murphy and a jolt of panic coursed through her. Why would he turn his back on him? And she was right to worry. Murphy quickly pushed himself to his feet, his lips pulled back into a nasty snarl, clearly intending to take advantage of Wells' vulnerability.

As Murphy advanced toward Wells, Elissa could see Blake glance at him over Wells' shoulder, a self-assured smirk growing across his lips.

"Stop this?" Bellamy asked with a bark of laughter. "I'm just getting started."

"Wells, behind you!" Elissa yelled in warning.

His head snapped around at the sound of her voice cutting through the air; he spun to face Murphy, just in time to get a hard blow to the jaw, sending him staggering back while his attacker continued to advance. Before Wells even had the chance to regain his composure, Murphy kneed him in the stomach, and Wells folded, spluttering and coughing as he tried to catch his breath.

Anxiety immediately filled her as she stared at the fight. She needed to help him, she needed to do something—anything. Letting the girl slide out from beneath her arm and onto the mossy ground, Elissa quickly reached down and pulled a makeshift knife out of the side of her boot, wondering if she was going to have to use it to save Wells' life. As she took a step forward, the girl grabbed onto her hand tightly, pulling her back away from the fight. Turning to meet the girl's scared gaze, Elissa gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She knew the girl wanted her to stay, but she knew she would never forgive herself if Wells got hurt when she could've prevented it.

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