“So? Have you decided?”
Kissing my teeth, I continued to walk as Kit barged into me, making me stumble. “Stop pestering me.” I huffed, turning into the alley as Kit follows; he still didn’t understand the concept of ‘personal space’ as he stuck to me whilst we walked down the dark and dingy path. “I haven’t thought about it.”
I hadn’t and that was the truth.
Ever since I could understand words, all I ever heard about was the wish- the one you’re granted once you turn eighteen. It sounds glorious and all so who made the rule that we had to use it for someone else?
“Maybe it’s because you’re always so closed off.” Kit began to speak again. I hated it when he spoke. “You snap at anyone who tries to befriend you.”
“And I prefer it that way.” I huffed, arriving at the dusty, black door, which was beaten up and hanging on the hinges for dear life. Pushing the door open, I was met with the gloomy sight that was all too familiar to me.
However, there were less people today, and they all looked on guard- as if something terrible had happened.
“What’s going on?” Kit asked, beating me to it. The stocky guy, skin clad in tattoos and wearing threadbare clothes, got to his feet; I didn’t even attempt to remember what his name was.
“The boss has been taken hostage.”
For the first time in forever, I felt my heart drop. I froze, as did the world around me, when I heard words, that I never knew could scare me, being spoken. Gulping, I raised my startled gaze to the man, ignoring Kit’s burdening gaze; I didn’t have time to deal with him gushing over my first show of emotion in what seemed like ages.
I wouldn’t know how to explain it myself.
“What do you mean?” I questioned, albeit I knew exactly what had been said; I just didn’t want to believe it. “Where is he now?” The words leaving my lips feel strange as I also feel my heart crawling up my throat.
“Central.” One of the other men stand up, essentially a twig compared to Stocky next to him. He pushes his thin glasses up his nose, presenting himself so annoyingly, regardless of the fact that they didn’t have any lenses in them. “From what the boys have told us, they’re on the bridge at central.”
My fists clench and I begin to become aware of how loudly my heart is beating. “Well he’ll be fine, right?” Kit begins to speak again and I swear I could have shot him then and there. “Boss wouldn’t let anything happen to himself.”
He wouldn’t but even I knew that the likelihood of escaping gunpoint were low.
“Boss is so strong and- hey! Yuki, where are you going?”
Disregarding Kit’s baseless question, I grab my helmet, which is hanging off of the broken hooks, and hold it tightly as I rush out of the den; it was stupid to ask, even though they all knew I would never let anything happen to Atlas.
My bike’s parked exactly where I left it this morning, to my relief, but I have no time to scan it for any scrapes or scratches some other lowlifes may have left. Hopping on quickly, I pull my helmet on and ride out of there before anyone could stop me, though they knew not to.
* * *
Central was a five minute ride but with the worrying thought of Atlas’ life being on the line weighing me down, those five minutes seemed like the longest five minutes of my life.
And in those tedious five minutes, it was inevitable for the thought to cross my mind- the thought that I could use my wish now.
“Who even knows it’ll work?” I mutter to myself as I twist the handles, increasing my speed as I ride down the deserted road; the road to the bridge is always empty, due to its obscurity, but it may as well have been due to the representation it had built itself.
I could not use my fingers, and even my toes, to count the amount of times someone had been stabbed, slashed or slaughtered on the bridge at central. I’d need another dozen pair of hands to count the times someone had been thrown into the river below. Upon hearing such morbid stories, which were usually exaggerated to make it worse, someone would have to be borderline mental to want to visit the bridge.
On the other hand, you would be pretty exasperatingly smart to use it in order to hold the boss of one of the biggest gangs in London at gunpoint.
Whilst I turned the last corner, the extended path towards the bridge coming into view, the realisation hit me; Atlas might be dead by the time I got there.
“I wish,” I began, gulping as I sped down the road. “I wish Atlas does not die today.”
Pretty straightforward, to the point, just how I needed it to be.
As my heart beat faster and faster, whilst getting closer and closer, my tremulous hands nearly slipped off the bike handles. God, I hated nerve-wracking situations.
Pretty untypical of a gang member, I know, but I wasn’t born and raised around guns and grim, like Atlas was.
The little hope I had begun to flicker lifelessly as I got closer; I’d envisioned sparkles, maybe even a genie but there was nothing- nothing to show that my wish had come true.
Just as all motivation was about to burn out, a sound that I was much too familiar with, to my own discontent, pierced through the air. Though my engine was loud, the sound of a bullet being shot was louder and I lost sight for a second.
Gasping, I tried to gather myself as I let the handles loose, the bike skidding.
I gulped, a cold sweat breaking out all over as my shaking hands tightened themselves around the handles.
No way in Hell.
Before I could let out another breath, I sped towards the bridge.
I wanted to ride with my eyes closed, but that would have killed me, and yet, at the time, the idea didn’t seem too insane; if Atlas wasn’t here, what was the point?
Considering a quick way out, I almost didn’t notice the man standing on the bridge.
Tall and dishevelled, he was the only one standing on the eerily secluded bridge. The slim yet huge stature and the wavy, black hair cascading down his face defined the man.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmured, riding towards him and as I got closer, he looked up, his solemn face breaking out into a smile, which was much too vibrant after being held at gunpoint.
And much too vibrant when he was surrounded by a dozen dead bodies.
Drained of any life, with pallid faces, a few corpses surrounded him, some even lying near his feet, and they were all shot meticulously in the head and I discerned this from the streams of blood coming from their heads.
But the dead bodies were the least of my concern.
It all happened too fast; I took off my engine as soon as I arrived, hopping off the bike and nearly tripping over my feet. Just to keep the old memento safe, I made sure to put the stand up for the bike, before sprinting towards Atlas.
“Yuki!” He beamed, extending his long arms out; I’d have to pester him about the torn and blood-stained shirt later. Now, all that mattered was him.
“Atlas, you idiot.” I sighed before plummeting into his arms, slam-dunking myself into the man. As I buried my face in his chest, drinking the familiar scent of his cologne, infused with tobacco, as if it were wine, I basked in the feeling that I would go unstable without.
Atlas chuckled a low chuckle, his sonorous tone resounding throughout my small body. Whilst he snaked his arms around me, holding me tightly against him, he sighed. “That’s a rude way to greet someone who nearly died.”
My eyes flew open and I pulled away with a frown, which perplexed Atlas. Keeping my hands intertwined behind him, I craned my neck up to look at him. “Why aren’t you dead?”
Atlas scoffed, almost losing his mind over the question as he broke out into a fit of laughter. In the midst of the curiosity, I found my heart warming up at the sight of Atlas smiling. My entire being felt lighter with the presence of Atlas; he was all I needed.
“Are you disappointed?” He asked, moving his hand to hold my face. Blushing, I nuzzled my face in his coarse hands, averting my gaze. “No, don’t be stupid.” I muttered. “I meant you were at… at gunpoint so-,”
“Oh, you aren’t going to believe me Yuki!” Atlas exclaimed, suddenly energetic. I looked up, bemused, as he spoke with stars in his eyes. “But first, you know I could have beaten them on my own right?” I rolled my eyes, smirking. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Right, well before I could do that, all their guns disappeared from their hands and landed at my knees.”
Glaring at Atlas, I stayed silent as he watched me with anticipation.
“What?” I asked and Atlas pouted, the sight quite rare on a ruthless gang leader.
“I told you so, that you wouldn’t believe me.”
I wanted to say that I did but the thought of something like that happening was so improbable.
Just like a wish coming true.
“No…” I muttered, suddenly thinking about it. “No way.” I gasped, lifting my head to place a hand over my mouth in shock: I was aghast. Could my wish really have worked?
“Sounds unbelievable right?” Atlas’ tone of voice was suddenly sedate and he had a lazy look in his dark eyes as he looked down at me. “Almost as if someone wished for me not to die.” He said, in a singsong voice.
I bit my lip, backing away out of Atlas’ arms and pacing to my bike. “O-Oh, yeah. Maybe Kit wished for it, he was pretty heartbroken at the thought of you at gunpoint. I mean it’s not a great look on you either, all weak and helpless and-,”
“Thank you Yuki.”
I almost shrieked when I felt Atlas behind me, wrapping his arms around me as he embraced me with his huge body. I felt too safe for my own good encased in Atlas’ arms. “You owe me your life.” I murmured, trying to conceal my flustered face.
Atlas laughed again and yet again, I was captivated by it; would I ever get tired of that harmonious sound? “Yeah, I do. But-,” I feel his voice get closer, the hairs on my neck standing straight. “You already know I’d die for you.”
Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, luvbibiWrite a Review