Emotions will trap you,

You have no choice.

Those bitter words?

That’s not your voice.

They play with your mind,

And take over your will.

Anger is deadly, and

Fear can kill.

The gun is heavy and it slips in my hands as I slowly walk down the steps, careful not to make too much noise. I cringe each time the stairs creak. So much noise. My hands are sweaty and my heart races as I move down the stairs with my back against the wall.

Thud, thud, thud, my heartbeat is loud in my ears. Too loud; I can barely hear anything else beyond the constant rhythm.

Barely breathing, my gaze flickers to the front door and then back up the staircase as light creeps in through the stained glass. I hold my breath until my feet land on the cold tile of the foyer. The front door is only feet away but as I get there, footsteps sound from the other side. The knob rattles, and my heart attempts to climb up my throat.

Whoever it is doesn’t knock or ring the bell. I wait for a moment, trembling as I grip the gun for dear life, praying they’ll prove to be someone I know, but there’s only silence on the other side.

My heart is pounding harder now as I quietly race down the hallway, looking ahead and checking behind me every few seconds. I need to escape out the back.

The closed-in backyard won’t do me any good, but I can climb the fence and slip through the thin veil of a forest straight to the crowded sidewalks of the city.

So close to protection, so close to safety. Just run.

I pause, my back pressed firmly against the wall as I get to the edge and peek around the corner and into the living room.

It’s empty, and only fifteen or so feet to the sliding doors.

I’ll run. The moment the thought occurs, I take off. But a sudden clatter in the kitchen startles me and I scream out, fumbling the gun and falling on my ass. I cover my mouth and turn quickly to face whoever’s there. My pulse races and my body trembles.

The gun landed behind me and I struggle to reach it, my arms propping me up. I keep my eyes forward, though. I’m shocked to find I’m staring at Liam Olsen.

“Whoa,” he says easily, a smile on his face. “There you are,” he says like he’s been waiting for me. Like he’s been expecting me. He takes two steps forward and my fear intensifies as he bends down, picking up a magnet that was on the fridge.

“It fell,” he says with a shrug.

“What are you doing here?” I barely get out the question as I stand slowly, bringing the gun up behind my back and placing my finger next to the trigger.

“I was told you wanted to talk about something very important?” Liam’s tone is playful, teasing and with a grin, he starts loosening the tie around his neck. “That you wanted—”

I bring the gun out in front of me slowly and steady my hands.

Liam’s hands go up instantly, his eyes wide with shock.

“I don’t want to talk about anything,” I tell him and my voice shakes. My body is on fire, and the only thing pumping in my blood other than adrenaline is fear. The memories of the other night come back full force. His hands on me, his lips so close to my neck. “Stay away from me!” I scream at him, and the force of my emotions makes me tremble.

“All right now, you need to put that down,” he says with more authority than he has, although his expression is still riddled with worry. He takes a step forward, arms still raised.

“I said stay away!” I cry out as if I’m scared and powerless, because that’s how I feel. “Get the fuck out!”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Liam says quickly. “I came in through the front and I’m headed out the front door, okay?” He says the words quickly, his own breathing ragged. “There must’ve been a misunderstanding,” he tells me quickly, rushing out the words. Just then, his gaze rises just a touch higher, his focus no longer on me, but instead trained on something behind me. I didn't hear the back door sliding open until it was too late, and my skin pricks with the realization that I’m trapped. There’s someone behind me.

I scream and as I do, the gun slips again in my sweaty grip and goes off. My eyes dart to it and it’s like I’m watching in slow motion as it happens.

The sound of the bang.

The kick of the gun, making my arms jerk.

Large hands settle on my shoulders as the scream tears up my throat.

The bang still resonates in my ears as my body shakes and I try to push the man behind me away, but he holds me close as he says, “It’s okay!”

I can hardly breathe, let alone recognize the voice.

Fear is what guided everything. I swear. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.

I look up and into the eyes of Mason, only it’s not him. It’s his father, looking down at me with sympathy, with sadness and horror.

Only when I see it’s him do I look back at Liam.

The blood drains from my body when I see he’s not moving. He’s face-down, his arm at an awkward angle. “Liam,” I call out, but he doesn’t answer.

The gun is hot in my hands. A sickness grows in my stomach.

I shake my head over and over. What happened? I didn’t. I swear I didn’t shoot him.

Mason’s father grips me again and I stumble backward, desperate to get away from him. My legs kick out as I scramble across the floor.

“Leave me alone!” I yell at him, still holding the gun, but pointing it toward the ground. He isn’t dead. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t mean to pull the trigger.

He lets me go and says with nothing but compassion, “I saw what happened. It was an accident.” He almost whispers the words. His eyes are wide as he nods. “It’s okay, I saw it.”

His words are comforting.

It was an accident. I swear it was. I look back at the body on the floor, my vision blurred from tears. It was an accident. How did this happen? Why are they here?

Too many questions scream in my head. Too many things are so very wrong. I look up at him with desperation and say, “Please, help me.” My face crumples as the sobs start. “Save him.”

What have I done?

Mason

The door is already open as I storm into the house. Everything rages inside of me. I drove as fast as I could. But it’s not fast enough. I’ve never prayed so much in my life as I did on my way to her place.

Bang! I swear I heard a gunshot, and I’ve never felt so cold in my life. The only thing keeping me from dying inside as I race through the first floor of her place, is hearing her cry. It means she’s still alive.

“Jules!” I call out her name just as I get to her living room, all the way in the back of the townhouse.

My world spins as I stop short in the room. My father’s hands are on Jules’s shoulders, and Liam is dead on the floor.

“It was an accident,” she whimpers over and over and Jules’s hands shake as the gun falls to the floor.

“It’s all right,” my father whispers into her ear. “I saw it,” he says and looks up at me, “it was an accident.” His statement is firm. Just like his grip on her. He nods and I can already see the wheels spinning. He set this up. It’s the ending he wrote. Liam the villain, and he gets to be the hero. Liam’s wife gets his properties, then my father can buy them. Jules and I have our villain and he’s in the clear.