The Numbers on Her Wrist

39

A/N Can I hear a "whoop whoop" for just over 250 THOUSAND READS?!?!? I just can't even explain how wonderful it makes me feel that so many people are enjoying my story. Thanks for all the support you guys are giving me- it means the world to me!
School starts on Monday for me, so getting chapters up will be harder and take a little longer. Hope you are all staying safe, rested, and happy ❤️ .... Because you're going to need to save your emotions for the next few chapters. *evil laughter in the background* There are only about three more chapters before the end of this book, but that doesn't include the Epilogue I have also.... Then, after a short break to allow me to plan the first five-ten chapters, I will start writing/publishing the prequel. ☺️
Love you all my lovelies!

"I thought you would have left by now."

I stare in complete shock at a bleeding Lyle Evans, noticing only now how extensive his injuries are- the injuries he got from me. One of his hands his pressed firmly against the wall to support his weight, as his legs seem to be tired and shaking, and the other hand tries to staunch the pain that is flowing through his broken ribs. His broken jaw is colored different hues of purple and black, blood dripping down his forehead, neck, and lips from different cuts or contusions on his skin. There are bruises staining his figure, too numerous to count or even observe with just a single look.

I am frankly surprised he is still standing.

I glance towards the teenager who is at my side, holding onto my arm. His face tightens in pure anger and a muscle twitches at the side of his nose with animosity for the man of the Association. "She wanted the chance to kill you," 541 spits with fury, his voice trembling with a surge of hatred.

Evans chuckles, grimacing as the slight movement rumbles his aching frame, and he knows just what buttons to push to bait my friend. "Ah, but 564 has already shown that she is too cowardly to pull the trigger."

541 drops my hand, leaving me to have to steady myself quickly to remain upright, and steps forward to aim the pistol straight at the man's face. He glares at him. "Amelia," he corrects with scorn, "is the bravest person I know- and by far the most admirable too." He looks Lyle over and quickly assesses all of the wounds that I must have given him; his assumptions are true. He gestures towards him, "I see she beat you for all of your sins, but stopping herself from murdering a son of a bitch like you isn't 'cowardly..." No, Mr. Evans," he mocks the formal title. "That is self-control. Something that some might say I have too little of sometimes."

"541," I whisper, warning him, but he only shrugs my words off.

"She may have mercy far beyond my understand, far beyond anyone's understanding, but don't you dare think for a minute that that restraint has passed onto her friends." His tone is deadly. "I should just kill you right now and be done with you. I'd be saving countless lives."

I plead with him. "541, please listen to me, we need to go get 583 before Carter does something incredibly stupid. Come on, the-"

"No!" He shouts, forcing me into silence. He lowers his voice, his eyes narrowing. "No, not before I kill him. Not before I see him take his last breath."

I almost wince at the danger, the venom, that has seeped into every word as he steps closer to Lyle Evans with the shining gun only inches from the man's face, my friend's forehead glistening with sweat as he grits his teeth in confrontation. "Do you know, Evans, how easy it will be for me to pull this trigger and stop your puny, little heart?"