"Aubrey?" Julia asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Aubrey didn't react. Her eyes were fixed on Damien across the room, but she wasn't really seeing him.
"Aubrey, you straight?"
She wasn't.
—
BANG. BANG.
The gunshots had split the alley open that night.
Damien's fist had been mid-swing, about to sink into Adrian's stomach again. Adrian—bruised, barely standing, surrounded by Damien's crew like they were putting on a show.
The one she loved.
Why the hell had he joined them in the first place?
"S—shit… the bitch has a gun!" someone had shouted.
"Look at her tattoos… is she gang affiliated?"
"She looks dead serious."
She had been.
Lila had stepped up behind her as backup, but Aubrey was the one holding the gun. Her hands hadn't even shaken.
Damien had looked at her, his grip still twisted in Adrian's collar.
And Adrian had scoffed when he saw her.
Like he hated that she was the one saving him.
Something small had cracked in her chest.
