Scars To Your Beautiful : A Modern Beauty and the Beast retelling ✔

43. By your side

"Stop." Her voice screeched out. It felt like her brain was on fire but Callie knew she had only one option left. "I'll do it. I'll do whatever you want." Cool rising air obeyed autumn's call and sent waves of teeth-chattering breeze,  exposing the distress that almost overpowered her.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" The smug look on Shorty's small face irked her. It swelled a spike of confidence in her like a raging tornado, when she met his evil gaze.

Her eyes clouded, looking impassive to the disgusting things they said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Don't play dumb. You heard me the first time." The taller one's lips curled up in a way that darkened his shrewd brown eyes. Callie tried to choke down the rising bile in her stomach. "Take off your clothes. But do it slowly. I like it that way."

Adrenaline levels rose. Callie tried her best not to be affected by the rapid thumping of her heart. What she needed was in her handbag and she didn't want to draw any of the attention to it.

Her hands slipped into her bag, dragging out the first object her fingers touched. Callie pulled out a small grease-black handgun that she held bravely. Eyes widened, the criminals looked completely dumbfounded. From what they could see, the knife in the tall one's hand surely had little effect compared to the gun in hers.

But what they didn't know, was how useless the gun in her hand was. The weapon was a simple prop that her father gave her to protect herself from dangerous streets. A tool, just like the ones used in movies, that she carried around in her bag couldn't even hurt a fly. But it was better to ooze a false amount of confidence to catch them off guard.

The taller one held a menacing look that had her shivering for a moment. "What are you gonna do with the gun, princess? Shoot me? I bet you've never shot anyone in your entire fucking life."

"Well there's a first time for everything." Callie barked. she felt the anger building into masses of unsolicited flaming fury. "And don't ever call me princess."

"You don't have the balls to do it." The tall one spat.

Beads of sweat trailed down Shorty's head. "I don't know, boss. She seems serious. Let's go before we end up being murdered by a teenage girl, of all things."

"Don't fucking tell me what to do." The tall one growled at him. He whirled his head around to pin his gaze on the gun in Callie's hand. "You're a lucky bitch, girl. But if I ever see you down this alley again, I'll show you why they call me 'the wolf'. Enjoy your freedom, you two. Cause it won't last."

The tall one sent a signal that Shorty seemed to understand and took swift steps away from Larkin. The two criminals slipped into the shadows and disappeared through the darkness. Callie let out a long breath. Relief consumed her and she put the prop gun back in her bag. She was so damn lucky.

With her legs taking full control of its functions again, Callie raced to a heavily battered Larkin. Her voice stitched with concern. "Are you okay?"

"What do you think?" He grunted, without saying anything else. Callie could pick out the embarrassed look in his eyes. He must have hated not being to able to do anything and it would have bruised his ego.

Callie reached for his walking stick, lying on the cold concrete floor, a couple of feet away from him, and took some steps back to Larkin. "Let's go before any of them comes back."

"First of all, how do you own a fucking gun?" Another grunt simmered its way out.

Callie took a moment to look around, just in case someone was lurking in the alley. With a relieved sigh, she leaned closer. Her voice noted into a small whisper. "It's not real. It's a prop. I can't even shoot a bullet but we'll be screwed if those bastards found out." An eyebrow arched at the absurdity of her story and Callie had to explain better. "My dad's anxiety and paranoia about many things, including murder, made him buy me a prop gun a year ago, to protect me from thugs on the street. It made him feel good about tricking any possible criminal into believing that I owned a real gun."