Page 4 of Saviour

I’ve gone two years living on the streets, hiding and avoiding harassment, so I suppose it was only a matter of time before something likethishappened.

My cries get louder as I try to fight the guy off, but he won’t let up and his grip is so tight on my arms, a shriek of pain ripples up my throat.

I’ve hardly eaten in weeks and I’m slowly losing all the energy I built up today from trying to fight him.

I’m weakening and I’m just about ready to give up when the deafening echo of a gunshot surrounds me. Warm liquid covers my freshly clean skin, a metallic taste covering my lips, overriding my senses. My arms are released, the man's grip suddenly completely relaxed as he slides down my body, leaving a trail of his blood all over me in his wake. My eyes catch onto the same pair of eyes they drowned in before I was caught up in this mess.

Those eyes that belong to a man with blond waves, a crisp suit, and a gun in his hand.

That’s when I scream.

It’s been five months since my cousin King and best friend Puck were locked up in God knows where. It’s been five months since Carlo announced Bonnie’s death. My little cousin, just sixteen years old and apparently pregnant with my best friend’s baby. Dead. Gone.

The fucker couldn’t even tell me how. Just that it was aterrible accident. Well I call bullshit. The man has never been honest or fond of his daughter Bonnie, so to call her death a terrible accident is the biggest fuck up he could’ve done. He’s not innocent in this, I just know it.

King and Puck are missing. Do they even know that King has lost his sister? Puck, the love of his life and unborn child?

I’m hurt. I’m angry. There’s no way any of this was an accident.

But I still have zero answers.

Five whole fucking months living in that mansion, losing my shit. My days consist of the same fucking thing. A stiff drink, followed by a day chasing leads or answers to my never-ending list of questions, followed up with another stiff drink. Or five.

I can’t stand being in the mansion for longer than necessary, only occupying my time there if I’m sleeping or I’ve caught wind of Carlo getting any visitors. I try to eavesdrop on conversations, hang around in the shadows to catch the smallest bit of information. But nothing.

For five fucking months, I’ve learnt not one shred of helpful information. Absolutely nothing of their whereabouts.

I lift the hip flask to my lips once more and curse when I drain the last of it, wishing I brought more with me. I should’ve known one wasn’t going to be enough.

I stumble on a branch sticking out of the ground and almost lose my balance entirely, grabbing onto the tree next to me quickly. I pause, dropping my forehead to the rough bark, and scrunch my eyes shut, trying to clear my head. I can’t think straight. I haven’t been able to think straight in months and I know the booze isn’t helping, especially this fucking early in the morning, but it’s all I have to keep me company right now.

King and Puck are gone. Bonnie is gone. And there is fuck all I can do about it. I’ve never felt more helpless in my life.

Further in the trees, I hear a loud splash and turn my head quickly towards the sound, wondering who else could be out here this early.

Shaking off the dizziness, I creep slowly over the fallen sticks and leaves and head towards the small lake hidden within the trees. Keeping myself disguised in the foliage, I hover my hand over my gun just in case and peer into the lake, only for my head to sober up within seconds.

Suddenly, I’m not drunk from the endless booze but the silver-haired beauty floating effortlessly in the lake, and I’m convinced she’s the most gorgeous thing to ever walk the earth.

Okay, so maybe it is still the booze talking, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

Her hair floats softly, framing her face. Her eyes are closed. Her dainty nose and plump lips are shining in the sunlight. Her breasts gently move with every stroke her arms make, keeping herself afloat, her nipples perky and pink.

Her stomach is flat and glistening with the water, the same for her legs and the small triangle of her pussy, which is dusted with soft light curls. Like the swan next to her, she floats like she belongs and suddenly I don’t want to be anywhere else either.

I haven’t been able to think of anything but finding King since he disappeared.

Until now.

She seems to float for hours. I have no idea how much time passes before she makes her way to the bank and struggles to lift herself. It’s not until she’s finally out of the water that I notice how small and frail she really is. Her arms are weak and skinny, her waist not much bigger. It looks like she hasn’t eaten in days.

I watch with curiosity as she shakes herself dry before stepping into her clothes—some plain black trousers and an old-looking shirt that still looks a little damp. I understand the creepiness of the situation, watching this girl like a peeping tom, but I can’t take my eyes off her or walk away.

She starts to head further towards town and I slowly follow her, intrigued to see where she’s heading. I’ve never seen her before, but she could easily be from the Second or Third District.

Living in the Rhivers mansion in the First District, I only ever travel outside the District if we’re dragged along with Carlo. With him leading the First District, and therefore being the most important of the leaders, most of the time other District members just come to us.

I watch her from behind and follow quietly, wondering if I’ll see where she lives or who she knows. We walk and walk, with me keeping a safe distance behind, through the forest and across the street, and I begin to wonder if she even knows where she’s going when she stops outside SSC and speaks to Sophie.

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