'I'll watch you choke on the hearts you break'

As I get to my bike, I throw my helmet to the ground aggressively. "FUCK!" I scream. I try to calm myself down by leaning my hands on my bike, I don't want to ride like this, but I also can't stand to be here a second longer. I lean over further and vomit. I wipe at my mouth and pick up my helmet, I needed to get to Bella.

With all the anxiety and adrenalin falling away, I feel an immense amount of exhaustion, I struggle to keep my eyes open as I ride.

As I pull into my driveway, Bella runs out the door to greet me. The concern is etched all over her face, but relief begins to flood into my veins. There was a part of me that worried if I would get to see her again.

I stumble off my bike, undoing my helmet as she runs up to me, only she stops just before crashing into my arms. "Are you hurt!?"

"No, no I'm okay," I try to reach for her but she steps back.

"Whose blood is that?"

"Ace's."

"Is- is he okay?"

I lean over and vomit again, I head for my shower. Needing to clean this shithouse of a night away.

I peel away my clothing as I walk, all I want now is a shower and my bed.

Bella follows me into the bathroom and watches me as I stand under the comforting water. "Could you maybe get me a water?"

"Okay," she turns and leaves. I know that I need to tell her so much, but all I want right now is to forget this night.

She comes back with a glass and opens the shower door to hand it to me. "Thank you," I whisper. Slowly I sip at the water, but the glass shakes in my hand.

I try to control the shaking but everything rushes to the surface, and I lose it. My lip quivers to try and hold back the tears but it doesn't help. "Tys," Bella says as she grabs the glass from me, she steps into the shower with her clothes on and holds me. I cry harder than I ever have before. "It's okay," she whispers, holding me in her arms as the water falls over us both.

"Everything is just so fucked," I cry.

"I'm here, just let it out," she squeezes me tighter against her.

I sob relentlessly in her arms until the water turns cold.

She turns the water off and removes her sopping clothes before wrapping her body in a towel. Then she dries my body with another towel and leads me back to my bed. Sitting on the edge, she dries my hair quickly just like my mum did when I was little. I hop under the covers and she tucks them around me. "Do you just want to sleep, or do you want to try and eat something?"

"Eat something," I whisper.

She disappears into the kitchen and my mind focuses on the clanging of pans, the kettle boiling and the sizzling of bacon.

She comes back, dressed in one of my shirts with a bacon and egg sandwich and a coffee. I sit up higher and she sits beside me, watching me eat slowly. She looks at me the way someone would look at a wounded puppy.

"Please don't look at me that way," I ask softly.

"I can't help that I'm worried about you," she reaches for my hand not holding the sandwich.

"I just want this to be over," tears sting the corners of my eyes.

"Do you think you can tell me what happened?"

I really don't want to, but I owe Bella so much. She deserves to not be left wondering and confused. She deserves every part of me, even the darkest, most unbearable parts.

I tell her everything, I don't cry again, but I do feel vulnerable as I talk.

"I'm so sorry, you deserved better Tyson," she says as she softly squeezes my hand.

"Finn drove my parents to the brink of insanity just because he was bored and jealous. I want him dead."

"By what you've told me, he will be dead soon," she says soothingly; trying to keep the anger away.

"I should have shot him in the head."

"And then what future would we have?" She tilts my face so that my eyes find hers. I let out a shaky breath and nod. Bella is right, he will be dead soon enough.

"You need to get some sleep," she tucks the blanket up to me, and I sink down into the bed.

"Thank you," I whisper, my eyes already closed.

"It's you and me," she whispers back, her hand softly running through my hair.

I wake to the irritating buzz of my phone calling, beside me Bella is asleep with her arms tucked under the pillow. I reach groggily for my phone; Bella must have put it on charge for me.

Grandpa's name is flashing on the screen, I sigh as I let it ring out. As it begins ringing again, I answer this time. "Stan," I say tiredly.

"I'm sending you an address, meet me there in twenty minutes."

"Sure," I say as he hangs up. No doubt he would be fuming.

My body feels like a ninety-year-old man, I stretch as I sit up. Bella stirs beside me. "Hmmm?" She mumbles.

"Just going to see your uncle quickly," I kiss her on the temple and she smiles at my soft touch.

I brush my teeth before heading to my bike, I really don't feel like riding and almost head back inside to take Bella's car instead. Not wanting to wake her again, I place my helmet on and start the bike up.

Pulling up to the address, I can hear the sound of gunfire. I suck in a shaky breath as I push away memories from last night.

I find Stan firing a pistol into a target, he doesn't look to me as I stand beside him. I know that asking me to meet him here is just a way to intimidate me.

He places the gun down and moves his ear protection back. "You want to explain last night or should I just arrest you here?" He says threateningly.

"Bullet nicked you?"

"You shot me!"

I pick up his gun and shoot three rounds into the target, all hitting nearly the exact same spot. "The whole gang was on their way for backup, I saved your life." I place the gun back down.

"How are you such a good shot?"

"Dad taught me, he was always proud at how good I was. I practiced at the range at the clubhouse to get the skill back, it didn't take long. Why were you even there last night?"

"We were watching the house; I didn't even realise it was you until you ran out and shot me."

"Is your arm okay?"

"Yes, just some stitcher's, thank you."

"I didn't know what else to do."

"It was a smart decision," he gestures for me to follow him.

Out the back there is a room with a cafeteria, we both grab a coffee, not a very good one, before sitting down together.

He places a binder in front of me. "What's this?" I ask as I open it up. Inside is pictures of police officers in their uniforms, with their names below.

"It's time to find out which cops are corrupt," he takes a sip of his coffee and squints in disgust.

My eyes move over the different pictures, my heart begins pounding, worried that maybe Dane is a cop. I hadn't noticed tattoos on him. Would I rat him out if I find his picture? I now considered him a friend. I swallow at my dry throat. Was I starting to be comfortable being apart of The Lost Souls, and less comfortable talking to Stan?

That thought was too terrifying to process right now.

My eyes skim over one picture but then dart back to him.

"You found someone?"

Mole.

"Daniel Ravel..." He looks a little different in the picture, but his rodent features are still strong.

"You're kidding?"

"No, they call him Mole."

Stan shakes his head in disgust. "Out of everyone, I didn't think it would be him."

I shrug. Out of everyone I sort of pictured him. "He's a coward." How funny it is now that he was the one adamant that I was a rat.

"Now that you've shot a cop, they will never doubt you again," Stan says with a tone full of relief.

I don't feel relief though, only a growing amount of anxiety starting at my fingertips and traveling all the way down my body. Did I actually hate Mole, or do I just hate myself?