The Bell Is Tolling

Lavender just came face to face with a difficult situation. Like Houdini, she needs to escape from a life threatening conflict. This is why I take public transport (:

Chapter 3: The Bell Is Tolling

 

            "Where to miss?" the cab driver was impatient to hear my reply. His shift was ending, he had been at work all night, he was exhausted but seemingly anxious, unmarried, no children, and most likely just wanted to go home and sleep in his flat. Boring.

 

            "Cambridge Street" I replied, trying to block out his sound.

 

            "Anywhere in specific?" Did I even have money to pay?

 

            "Just going to go see the new show tonight at 02 Ritz" I began scouring through my pocket to fetch out my wallet for some quid and found fifteen pounds. This should do. The man whistled in response and shook his head to one side.

 

            "Heard the CTP choir is singin'. Big show. I saw the line for it earlier. Whew! You're lucky if you bought tickets before-hand, otherwise you're stuck waitin' out there for hours!" He exclaimed. Great. Not only is it a big show with lots of people, but it's also a long line and I haven't bought a ticket. Isn't there some other way in? By now the cab was speeding up Oxford Road.

 

            I've been to this part of Manchester almost every day and yet this was the first time I was doing it with my eyes set on a murder case. Strange how much our perceptions can shift when it comes down to mysterious events. Suddenly I had become 68% more cautious than I previously was. My eyes were darting in every direction, searching for answers but being left with unnecessary information. It felt like I was put under a hex for a moment, but I loved it.

 

            "You ever heard of 'em?" the man's voice felt startling, but I remained settled in the backseat.

 

            "Of what?" I almost muttered. Not a good time for small talk with all honesty.

 

            "The CTP choir of course! I heard their voices are like singin' angels! Sadly, I can't see the show tonight 'cause I've gotta get some shut-eye, but ay, a man's gotta listen to some gospel every now and then!" I didn't want this conversation to move any further. Yes, he seemed to be a very cheery man. Hats-off to him for that, but never someone I would want to speak to when I'm too busy with other matters, like murder for instance.

 

            We were now speeding up Chester Street. We just had to turn right at the intersection and then I would pay up my fifteen quid and head out to buy tickets, but as we were nearing the intersection, the cabbie just sped right through Cambridge Street and right onto Wilmott Street. I felt my hands shaking as I yelled.

 

            "Wait! You just passed it!" I felt rude for shouting but it was the only thing I could imagine doing, but the cabbie didn't stop the car. My legs were shaking but I wasn't afraid, just astonished. Where in the whole of humanity was he planning on going?

 

            "Don't worry. There will be no show tonight. In case you haven't heard, it was cancelled yesterday evenin' 'cause they got themselves in a bit of a humble. Somethin' about one of their members bein' murdered must've startled them" he spoke calmly and solemnly, but I wasn't very comfortable with it. At least he wasn't screaming.

 

            My mind was still launching itself like a rocket into the clouds but his words bounced off of the walls of my mind. No show? So it was all just a lie? He knows about the murder? The answer was quite clear to me but I never expected it to appear to me in this context. He wanted something.

 

            "Ah, so you're the one who's been killing all of these office people since three months ago. Have you come to kill me too?" I felt like a shaken kitten but my face remained relaxed. There was no reason in indicating any sign of innocence in front of someone else's guilt. The man smirked, straightening his loose tie and glancing at the rear-view mirror, but he was no formal gentleman.

 

            "You're an amateur detective whose-"

 

            "Forensics scientist with a degree in Forensics Science and a brother who is currently being framed for the murder of his secretary whom he has no relationship with other than work. Can we start talking about you now?" This tension was crippling but I knew that this man wasn't clever enough to rid of me. We were now speeding up Medlock Street. He was going to enter a desolate area before grasping the bells by their chimes and taking a toll.

 

            "I've heard a lot about you. Your brother was a journalist no? He got in with a lot of bad people. He should've just kept his mouth shut and his hands steady. He wrote an entire article about these murders and never once believed that perhaps the killer would read them? Silly me for blamin' 'im. Have you ever thought that maybe it's just us? Watchin' 'em like prisoners watchin' rats?"

 

            He seemed to be nearing the subject of what he wanted, but it seemed so far away.

 

            "What do you mean?" I asked curiously. I never once thought that a cabbie could be a murderer, but then again, I've seen a lot of different shades of psychopath in all kinds of people so I wasn't exactly baffled. He glanced at me through the rear-view mirror before smiling.

 

            "You're not ordinary. You try to be but you know what it's like to watch the usual rubbish commoners roamin' these streets without knowin' what's really happenin'." Why would he confront me in such a way? I never once thought that my skills made me superior, just rather differentiated from the rest. A superior would be more like a leader, but I was just a woman.

            We took another turn onto City Road, a very desolate part of Manchester. It was mostly made up of apartment buildings but of course rarely anyone was out on the streets during the night here. We passed a parking lot plotted right in front of four buildings. These must've been the management buildings. I'd never been in this part of the city before, so I was more curious rather than frightened, but being panicked was never my cup of tea. We soon decelerated in front of a building at least seven stories high.

 

            It was built out of light brown brick and consisted of an average entrance. Why were we stopping here? The car then stopped and the driver pinched his keys away from the keyhole. He sighed and his hands rested on his lap. He looked at me through the mirror again, eyeing me as if he was trying to endure my image. What was his intentions?

 

            "I found these quiet parts just for you Ms. Raynott. I hope you like 'em. These apartments are fairly new so there aren't many people in 'em yet. Perfect place for a silent murder ain't it?" Despite his wits, his speech needed some inspiration.

 

            "I assume you live here?" I asked calmly. Like I said, no need to indicate innocence in front of someone else's guilt.

 

            "For the moment yes." He opened the car door and climbed out. His taxi cap was poking out from the gap between the door hinges and his hanging seatbelt. I watched cautiously as he stepped out of the vehicle and turned to my door. He slowly opened the door before offering for me to step out. I felt hesitant, breathing in but always forgetting to breathe out, and tried to think as rapidly as possible.

 

            "Step out of the car Ms. Raynott. You know you wanna come along" he motioned wordlessly. Was he trying to seem intimidating? A cabbie, pulling up on the side of the road, climbing out and then opening the door to the backseat, and then motioning for someone to leave. Would someone noticed if out of the car emerged a young woman? The streets were more desolate than I had originally imagined and the sky was growing dark. The sun was setting in the evening sky and I could've been sure that I had missed dinner.

 

            "What if I decline your offer?" I asked serenely. I was examining every aspect of the man just in case the police would get involved. Who was I kidding? There was no doubt that the police would get involved, but I needed a clear description of the man if I were to report him. In his late thirties, brown hair lining his jaw, blue eyes, short brown hair combed back against his head, grey jacket with blue jeans, a necklace with his car number engraved on it and he seemed to be about five foot eleven.

 

            I felt a wave of rubatosis as my whole body was growing stiff. The man sighed and closed the door before he turned back towards the drivers seat. He closed the door properly and drew his car keys from his pocket. He waved it so I could begin to understand what he intended to do. I panicked for a moment, feeling the sudden rush of epinephrine energizing me like sugar, but I was too late.

 

            Click.

 

            I fumbled with the door handle but the door was definitely stuck. There was no moving it no matter how long I harshly battled with it. He shouted at me from the other end of the window.

 

            "Regret your decision now eh?! Here's a little tip!" following his shout, he tore the key away from the remote and unlocked the driver's seat door. The moment that I heard it click, I dashed for it as if it was my prey, but I didn't get there in time. He opened the door and placed the key in the keyhole before grabbing a cloth from his back pocket and grabbing me by my hair. I had never felt so violated in a long time. I struggled to free myself but I didn't have enough space to hurt him.

 

            "Will you take up my offer now Ms. Raynott?" he viciously scowled. I felt like giving up. I felt like throwing everything down and just doing what he says, but I knew how this ended. He would lead me into an apartment and then murder me just like how he murdered all of those other people. I wasn't willing to go down the same way.

 

            "If you let go of my hair then perhaps I would!" I shouted. My scalp felt like it was on fire but I knew that that would be over soon. He decided to obey and carelessly released my dark strands. Idiot. The keys were still in and now the car was on. If he backed away from the door, I could close it and just drive away. What frightened me the most was the age of the car. Compared to the other cabs driving around the city, this one was remarkably old by at least forty years.

 

            He must've taken very excellent care of it. He would never let it go to waste would he? He backed away from the car just slightly. I pretended that I was trying to climb out through the driver’s seat, but it was only a trick. If only this damn cabbie wasn't so stubborn. I was gonna be late for Seth! How improper it would be for me to leave my accompanist behind!

 

            The moment he was far away enough, I quickly did what I had to do. I grabbed the door handle and stepped on the pedal! The car ferociously accelerated and began rapidly speeding down the road. I felt a surge of courage and power, but this was just a little prank. Had he seen this coming? Why wasn't he running and shouting after me?

 

            Bang! Bang! Bang! BANG!

 

            I heard the loud screech of the weak wheels burning against the pavement as the car swerved. A wave of terror swept over me when the car began to tilt to the right and before I could so much as let out a shriek, the window on the opposite side of me cracked from the impact. I was flung to the other seat, my seat belt holding my waist tightly like strong arms, and the weight of the car shifted as it twisted upside-down and tumbled onto the grass!

 

            I could've hit my head on the roof if I hadn't covered it with my hands. I felt a sharp pain soar through my fingers and the cracking noise wasn't very pleasant either. It felt as if someone had ripped out all of my fingers all at once. The car was done tossing but I was feeling sharp pains in my hands and my abdomen felt as if it had been crushed by a great weight. My head was unharmed, but I guess we all make sacrifices.

 

            For a moment, I thought I would just collapse and fall unconscious, but my body demanded otherwise. I groaned and attempted to undo my seat belt. I heard the faint click and quickly fell to the broken glass shards above me. The whole world felt upside-down, but I just wanted to crawl out. Luckily, the car wasn't beaten up enough for the doors to be completely broken, so I was about to open the door when I saw a pair of feet appear in front of me.

 

            Damn him! He placed his hand against the door and crouched down. His face was twisted into a mad smile and he seemed to be very pleased with this outcome. My face however, was twisted with annoyance. What did he think I was going do? Let myself rot in here?! He took out his car remote and immediately locked the doors. I was surprised to hear the click! The airbags had gone off, so how was this car still functioning enough for the doors to lock?! I thought that they wouldn't lock whenever the airbags went off?!

 

            "Give up yet Ms. Raynott? I got plenty of time. You can struggle all ya want but ya won't get out anytime soon unless you agree to follow me. I could sit here all day and watch ya squirm but I'm not that cruel. It's either agree, or die. Your choice" his voice was faint due to the glass between us but I understood what he was implying. He really had the nerve to kill a forensics scientist working on his case? I couldn't agree to it. I would've rather gotten crushed by the car instead.

 

            "Sod this! You can do whatever you would like but I will not enter that building with you! I know how you killed all of those people and I will prove it!" I shouted with a strong sense of lamprophony.  He smirked, marking a trail of psychopath to carve his cheeks.

 

            "Here's the problem," he continued to lean against the door, preventing me from escaping, "You will die a very slow and agonizin' death. There is no return. Are you sure?" He had his face almost pressed up against the broken glass. I knew what he was going to do. Such an old car model definitely allows for a larger amount of carbon monoxide to be delivered into the car through a pipe. Windows shut, doors locked, and barely enough air as it is means that a little bit of exhaust could kill anyone.

 

            Now this would've been an unpleasant adventure. More entertaining than sitting at my flat alone doing nothing but wanting a blunt and torturing my blood with all the nicotine I could find. My phone was in the backseat but judging by how cracked the screen was, it probably wasn't going to be working anytime soon. It took a moment of struggle, but I finally sat back against the front seat and began to examine my wounds. Two broken fingers, scratches on my knuckles, and a minor burn on my lower abdomen.

 

            "I'll take that as a yes" and as he smiled he began walking towards the back of the car. This was it. The doors were locked and I began to struggle to find something I could break one of the windows with, but all I found was a book under one of the seats. It was no use. Nothing in the car could possibly so much as puncture these windows. That cabbie really knew what he was doing when he shot down this car. Maybe I had underestimated him.

 

            I heard him clank two metal pipes together. No no no! Not yet! I needed enough time to kick open the windshield! I pressed my back up against the passenger’s seat, preparing myself for the most painful escape I've ever made. I lifted my feet so my heel would be the first thing to hit the glass. Without hesitation or struggle, I forced the strongest kick I could manage towards the glass. It barely even cracked. How long would this take to get so much as an average crack?!

 

            I heard him beginning to poke the pipe through the back window. He was holding it in place and there were fumes creeping out of it. Never mind. He was definitely an idiot. Never leave the victim to struggle alone when they have one single route of escape. I began kicking harder, forcing my kicks with my best agility and trying to remain silent despite the pain. I already felt as if my ankle was going to break, but I knew that I had strong legs, at least compared to my skinny arms.

 

            I used my strength wisely, trying to kick as hard as I could but enough to at least leave some energy to run. The gas was creeping into the front seats, filling the air with smoke that I didn't even want to look at. My eyes were watering but I was still kicking. My leg was getting tired by the time I had left a large crack. That crack was my only motivation to continue on, just knowing that now the glass was more fragile than ever and that now it would be easier to just kick it into pieces.

 

            My foot was aching by now so I switched feet and kept going. The blood in my ankle was slowly decreasing due to the cuts but I was determined to make this escape. The gas began to pour into my lungs like drugs, sinking through my nostrils like air, but of course this air smelled horrible. I finally kicked the window hard enough for it to release a small chunk. Kicking harder than I’ve ever kicked before was my only hope.

 

            The driver began to walk towards the front of the car due to hearing my struggles and decided to kneel down right where I was kicking. Clumsy move on his part. He must’ve not realized that I was kicking, not trying to break open the door. I kicked a chunk of glass straight at him and to his surprise; it flew into his eye and then bounced and fell on the broken shards of metal beneath him.

 

            That’s what you get for trying to gas me in your own car. I couldn’t tell whether he was crying out in pain or just really shocked. More likely to be both but I took this chance to kick yet another chunk out. Finally, the windshield gave way and I was conscious enough to crawl through as he was writhing in agony. I cut my elbow on a glass shard in the process and scraped my hands on the gravel, but the pain didn’t matter to me.

 

            I immediately stood up in an attempt to run, but my ankles were failing me. My feet hurt so bad that running was out of the question. I stumbled and tripped over my own pained toes before crashing to the ground and used my unharmed elbow in an attempt to break my fall. He seemed furious enough to let go of his bleeding eye and begin rampaging after me.

 

            F**k!  

 

He was headed right this way! I began crawling away. The pain was agonizing but I had to station myself somewhere far from this man. He curled his fist into large balls before swinging one towards me, but fortunately for me, I was very good at dodging. I rolled to the other side and his fist hit the rock ground with great force. He yelped in pain before holding his bleeding fist.

 

That didn’t stop him. He soon swung his other fist at my head, but once again, I rolled away and dodged it. I guess he was now immune to the pain and began swinging his fists at me like a lumberjack swings his axe at a tree. Nonstop. He growled as he bent down and grabbed me by the collar, turning me around just before readying his fist for one last beat down.

 

He forced a swing with all of his strength and landed one right on my nose. A crack blasted my ears like the sound of stepping on a twig when it’s silent. The pain soared and grew even worse than before. I found myself back on the ground with warm fluids trickling from my nose and my vision slightly blurry. I rested my weight on my injured elbow and let out a long groan.

 

I turned around and pulled myself back up again. He was now staring dead at me with his pupils dilating with a fierce light shining against his back. The sun was now almost set. The darkness was slowly creeping into the corners of the street along with shadows that spread as if it was colonizing the entire city. I began to prepare myself for a fight, rolling up my sleeves, clenching my fists, placing my feet properly, and despite the fact that my vision was off, I could tell where my feet were and my coordination wasn’t too bad.

 

I could still do this. If I could just put him on the ground just once then I could search him for his phone and turn it on before calling for help. If he were to get up again, all that I had to do was knock him unconscious. He was vulnerable when it came to the subject of his ex-wife. He had a tattoo on his right hand with the name of a girl. Not a girl, the name of a woman, most likely his former wife. I’d probably say that he’s widowed though because he never removed it or tried to cover it up.

 

I could use some small talk.

 

Now he was definitely swinging with anger. I dodged the punch and instinctively grabbed his head and bashed it into my knee. He fell back in agony and judging by the state of his face afterwards, we were now even. He took out a gun from his pocket, the same gun that he had used to shoot down that car, and cocked it so that it was aiming straight for my head.

 

He pulled the trigger, firing almost right at me, but I know when someone is aiming for the kill. I ducked and tackled him, attempting to grab the gun in the process but instead he dropped it nearby. I pinned him down and grabbed the gun as soon as possible, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He attempted to swing his fist again, but fortunately I grabbed the gun in time and swung it at this head.

 

The impact left a mark on his face but I had made sure that I wasn’t aiming for his temple. It wasn’t my intention to kill him, only something worse. Leave him for prison where he may never see his cab again. He was out like a light, his arms outspread as if welcoming fatality and his head began to bleed. He would be out for a few minutes, giving me plenty of time to call for help and then keep my eyes on him.

 

I slipped my hands into every one of his pockets, searching desperately for some kind of communication device, but there was none.

 

“No! No! No! No! No! Of course you didn’t bring a phone. Mobile phones can be traced! I have to find a phone booth but it’s too far! It’ll be dark by the time I reach one!” I spoke to myself silently but with a hint of scarcity. I searched all around me for perhaps so much as a walking citizen or police station or anything, but I had observed the entire place upon entry. No station, no phone booths, no people, nothing.

 

Think! Think! Think! Think!

 

What did you see upon entry that you believed would be a great place to sprint to if there was any need? I began to ponder. That was when the thought struck me in the right place.

 

The four buildings in front of the parking lot. They were management offices if I’m correct. Perfect! They had phones, computers, people, and they were bound to be available at this time of night! Before I could jump with joy and charge down the street like a moron, I had to find a way to bring the cabbie along, so I grabbed his arm and began dragging. I wasn’t strong enough to lift him and I knew that when I looked down at my skinny arms, but I was just strong enough to drag him a few blocks.

 

My arms were aching by the time we were half way down the street and I had to take a minute to regain my energy. I felt reminded that I had two broken and bleeding fingers unfortunately. I let go of his arm for a moment, resting my arms against my side and began trying to pace myself more. After a moment to just look up at the sky and rest, I grabbed his arm again and began dragging him all the way to the parking lot, where I then knew that I couldn’t drag him any further.

 

I had to turn my back on him for only a minute to run inside and report the situation. I rested him up against the side of a car and ran towards the front entrance, trying to race with time in order to make it back before he wakes up again. I read the sign on the glass door.

 

“Now open for service! Please consult the accountant for any emergencies and thank you for dropping by!”

 

What a welcoming sign for someone who just went through a nightmare.

 

I pushed the door as hard as I could and burst in, my breath still heavy from the exercise, and my eyes dashing about like rubber balls bouncing off of walls. I caught sight of the accountant, who seemed quite worried seeing me barge in like that, and quickly began to speak.

 

“I was just attacked by a cabbie and he’s passed out in the parking lot! My phone broke and he didn’t have one on him so I dragged him all the way here! I’m going to need an ambulance immediately!” I exclaimed faster than I had expected. The accountant seemed to be the only person who was listening enough to gather the entire story and rushed towards me. The others seemed dumbfounded as if they were all slapped in the face simultaneously.

 

I followed the accountant outside as she almost immediately spotted the man, still unconscious, beside a grey car with his forehead blood beginning to dry. She rushed to his aid, slapping his cheeks to try and break his sleep, but he was completely out of it. She did all of the emergency drills. Checking his breath, his heartbeat, his eyes, and trying to wake him up but he was deep in sleep.

 

“What happened?” she asked as she stood up and tried to process what to do.

 

I quickly began to explain the situation. From the moment he picked me up in his cab to this very moment. The entire time she was crossing her arms and listening carefully. A groan broke out from the cabbie, his head dropped from one side to another and his eyelids began to flutter.

 

            “Should we just let him wake up?” she asked but by then I had already lifted my foot and kicked him square in the head.

 

            “That should keep him at bay” I commented solemnly. She glanced at me in shock but she knew that I had done what was only ethical. Why let him wake up if he was only going to attempt to kill me again? He was a serial killer, not an amateur teenage scandal. She took out her phone and dialed 999 as I expected her to. At least she did it before myself.

 

            “Hello?! This is Alexandria Patterson from the City Road Apartments Management Department. There’s a woman here who’s been attacked! Her nose is bleeding, she broke two fingers, she has cuts and bruises, and there is a man unconscious in the parking lot! Please send an ambulance!” her voice was filled with panic.

 

I was late for Seth. Surely she could look after this man on her own and the police would come, but they would have to question me later. For now, I had to find myself a bus stop and take the bus back to the studio and surely Seth would be wondering why I’m late. I began to walk away, leaving her alone with the driver.

 

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!” she shouted in a shaken tone. I continued walking.

 

“You’ll have to take it from here! I’m late for a very important conference and you would be doing me a great favor by explaining the story to the police for me! Bye for now!” I waved as I began rushing towards the road. The intersection wasn’t far from here so I knew that I could wait at the bus stop nearby.

 

“Wait! You can’t just leave it all up to me! W-what am I even supposed to tell them?! A-and your nose and hand! You need a doctor!” she shouted in response.

 

“Just tell them what you saw! That should be simple enough for a woman of your expertise and the doctor can wait!” And with that said, I began to rush towards the intersection at full speed! My feet were attempting to pace themselves but I was in too much of a hurry to slow down now. I reached the intersection and crossed the street to the bus stop.

 

There were two other people sitting on the bench beside me. A young man and an older man, both being complete strangers along with myself as a third. My cabbie almost killed me, I’m injured, I had to drag him all the way to the management department, I had to wait for the woman….what was her name again? Alexandria? And now I have to wait at this bloody bus stop as the clock screams “YOU’RE LATE!”

 

What a wonderful day today has been.

 

The sky was dark and the stars were beginning to peek through the clouds. The moon was shining brilliantly and the ambient whispers of the city chanted. It’s been a while since I’ve waited at a bus stop. Usually I would call for a cab but now I barely even have the money to pay for food! God do I hate public transport!

 

“Lavender!” I heard someone shout from just down the street. I turned my head instinctively and caught sight of a man wearing a long coat sprinting towards me. It was Seth! I didn’t care how he got here only that he was here and that he hadn’t forgotten like some of my past untrustworthy partners. I immediately stood up and began walking towards him. He stopped running once I was a few meters from him.

 

“I’m sorry if you had to drive all the way here! I ran into a bit of trouble. By the way, what are you doing here? I thought we were supposed to meet in front of the studio?” I asked calmly, although I still felt out of breath. I really should do more exercise.

 

“I saw that the CTP Choir performance was cancelled so I called you but you wouldn’t answer so I was just taking a cab to Cambridge Street to see if maybe you’d gotten yourself wound up. Why are you waiting at a bus stop? Did the cab crash or something?” he said with relief. Worrying would make him seem confused but he knew exactly what was going on. He knew that something had happened.

 

“It was the cabbie. He murdered all of those people in their flats and offices. I don’t know why but I do know that something is out of place. I just can’t seem to lay my finger on it.”

 

“Did he attack you?” he asked, slightly more panicked than before.

 

“Yes of course. He threatened me before shooting down the cab and almost gassing me to death before I knocked him out with his own gun and dragged him to the management offices. Why? Is it important?” I replied a bit hastily.

 

“He didn’t use any drugs of any kind or even so much as a crowbar or stick?” His face began to cross.

 

He was catching onto something. The killer used a syringe and a crowbar to kill his victims but this cabbie used a gun and a pipe. Why would he rearrange his extermination method?

 

Exactly.

 

There’s a wide possibility that he didn’t at all. That this was all just lies. That the cabbie wasn’t the real killer and the real killer was just trying to play the game.

 

“He used the cabbie as a way to distract me” I remarked.

 

“Or to test your abilities. Lavender, do you honestly believe that the killer hired the cabbie or is this just your assumption?” He attempted to cross fire, but my face was crossing quite more clearly than his.

 

“It’s an assumption for now but let’s not wander. The killer may still be on the loose and there is only one way to find out” I pressed my lips together, trying to piece together the even more complicated puzzle I had just received.

 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking then?” He began to smile faintly, his eyes gleaming with delightful thoughts.

Oh, this man.

 

He’s a bad man but he’s not mad. He is remarkably enjoyable but not thick like Baker. He might as well be clever when it degrades to action.

 

“Cabbies are the most reliable when it comes to making a negotiation that goes against the rules of their occupation, but what about a scientist?” I began to feel a grin coming along. He must’ve felt it too.

 

Winter had just begun. The snow was falling. The skies filled with dark clouds, which meant that cold days were coming and such a cold day it would be if I saw my own brother being lead into a prison cell.

 

“Do you want to cut ties with your brother now?” He was still smirking.

 

“You have no idea.”

Author's Note

This chapter is a bit long but I didn't wanna have to cut it short so here you go (: