Chapter 12

Not bothering to ditch her work clothes, Clarke ran around her apartment, grabbing her car keys and a couple of other necessary things. In less than 10 minutes she was out the door.

On the ride to Polaski the blonde thought of a couple of things. Why had Lexa called her? She was most likely walking into a setup. Was Pike going to be there? Clarke had always assumed he was the one who exacted her father, if not he was the one who ordered the hit. But why would Lexa sell out her dad like that? Unless like she'd thought before, it was a trap.

Clarke wouldn't call what she had been doing over the past couple of months living, she'd been existing. Now was her time to take action to do something, to avenger her father and mother. She wasn't going to stop with whoever she was going to see at Polaski, she wanted to kill them all.

Looking down into her passenger seat, the little silver revolver looked back at her. Bellamy never wanted her to use it, but he'd given her the weapon after Lexa had taken her to her mother's old house on the beach. It was meant for protection, but now it had a much darker purpose.

The dirt road turned into a big open space, and in the middle of that space stood a dingy while warehouse. Checking the gun as Bellamy had taught her, Clarke looked in at the 6 bullets, then snapped the gun closed. She parked her car insight, hoping that someday someone would find it and if something were to happen to her, tell her friends.

The area was quiet, Clarke could make out the back end of a black vehicle hidden around the back of the building. Without a second thought, Clarke walked through the open door, inside the tin building was one big room. Off to the side, relaxing back in a chair was a man.

It is so dark in the building Clarke couldn't make out who it was, the gun was incorrectly held in front of her she walked forward. This man had hair, which meant it wasn't pike.

"Have you lost your damn mind!?"

Clarke turned quick, weapon still raised. She could feel Bellamy's glare from across the empty room.

(FlashBack)

Octavia watched Clarke disappear down the block, that phone call had been the first thing to spark any emotion in Clarke since they'd reconnected. Her friend seemed too angry, her stance and eyes giving away the emotions she was feeling.

When she took off Octavia knew it had to be bad, anything bad in Clarke's life had to do with her parents. Octavia also knew that she couldn't let her friend go off on her own, but she didn't know what to do. So she followed her.

When she arrived at Clarke's apartment the door was wind open, but the blonde wasn't inside. Octavia hadn't been too far behind and figured she'd just missed her. She had to find something, the only information she had as a name. Lexa. Looking around the apartment in the living room Octavia found Clarke's laptop open to a map of the outer city. Polaski typed into the search bar, on the bottom of the map was a timer that said 37 minutes.

Typing the address in her own phone Octavia turned to go after her friend, but what lay on Clarke's kitchen table stopped her cold. A black case was open, the foam inside outlined a place where a small gun should be.

The phone still in hand, Octavia pressed speed dial 2 hoping like hell her brother would pick up.

(FlashBack)

Clarke's heart was beating fast in her chest, her grip on the gun painful.

"How did you find me?"

Bellamy scoffed, "I was here first. With him." He pointed to behind her.

After a beat, with the gun still raised she looked behind her. The man in the chair wasn't relaxed her was dead. His hands were restrained with duct tape, his head drooped forward.

"Who is he?" She demanded.

"Welch Tyler. One of Pike's guys." Bellamy's voice sounded closer, in reaction Clarke turned back to face him. "You planning on shooting me with that thing?"

Clarke looked at her hands, she had so much adrenaline running through her that she hadn't realized her gun was still pointed at him. Rolling her shoulders back she lowered it to her side but didn't put it away.

"He's dead. You killed him."

"He's lucky I did." Bellamy's voice was dark and sinister. "What do you think you are doing here? Figure you'd come in here and what. What was your plan!?"

Clarke leaned all her weight on her left leg, her hip popping out. She didn't like the anger she was going from Bellamy, who the hell business of his was it what she was doing here.

"He killed my father."

Bellamy shook his head, "Lexa tell you that did she?"

Clarke's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. How did he know that?

(FlashBack)

Bellamy knew he was dead, but this was the guy who blew up his best friend, his partner. He could help but take a couple more swings, his knuckles splitting. He's been at it for hours, giving Welch what he deserved. If Bellamy had been able to control himself a little longer, he could have learned more about Pike and his plans. However, Miller was the reason he was here right now, not Pike.

His phone rang three times in the past two minutes, once it rang a fourth Bellamy pulled himself away from Welch's body. His sisters' name flashed on his phone, she knew not to call him and he had just visited her not too long ago. Not wanting to take a chance something could be wrong he picked up.

"Yeah?"

She seemed out of breath when she answered, "Bell I don't know what to do and I don't know where you are but you need to come back, or at least go to the address I'm about to give you."

"Slow down Octavia." He ran a hand down his face.

"You don't get it I don't think there is time, Clarke's gone. We were walking back to her place and someone called her. I don't know what they said or what it was about, but it's like she flipped a switch. I followed her back to the apartment but she was already gone. Bell she'd got a gun, I found the empty case on her Kitchen table."

Bellamy felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. "You said she, who called her?"

"Lexa, but I don't know who that is. There was a map quest open on her laptop, somewhere in Polaski. I don't have the civic address."

"O, go home. I'll call you."

(FlashBack)

"O called me." He answered her unasked question.

Clarke turned away, her arms swinging by her sides. She was too late, the guy, Welch was already dead.

"And that piece of crap didn't kill Jake."

Clarke's face expressed how confused she felt. "Then why would Lex-"

"Or the better question that you have yet to answer. Why the hell would you come here!"

"TO KILL HIM!" Clarke screamed, tired of being talked down to.

Cocking the gun, Clarke screamed to let out the pain she's suppressed for months and unloaded all six bullets into Welch's chest. At that moment the low life wore the face of everyone who had hurt her and her family.

At the end of the six Clarke kept firing blanks, the gun clicking. Tears streamed down her face. She could feel Bellamy behind her, the space between them paper-thin. He reached his right arm out, cupping Clarke's hand that was still pulling the trigger, taking the gun from her. With nothing left to hold Clarke let her arms fall, hand slapping her thigh upon impact.

"Feel better?" Clarke didn't answer him.

The silence hung between them, tainted by Clarke's rapid breaths and the echo of gunshots. After moments of nothing happening Clarke turned around, her hand held out expectantly.

Bellamy raised a dark brow, asking what she wanted.

Those dull eyes of hers shifted to look down at his right hand, where her revolver was.

"If I give this back to you, what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

She ignored the question. "Give it to me."

Bellamy smirked, but there was no humour in it. "Over my dead body." He wasn't going to give her a tool to go get herself killed with, to live out some half-baked revenge fantasy.

"If I had a bullet left, it would be."

His heart broke a little to see how far the Princess had fallen. After her mother's death he saw her repair her heart with tape, but after her fathers' murder there just didn't seem to be enough tape in the world to fix her shattered heart.

"Clarke." His voice cracked, his shell softening as he took her in.

His warm tone seemed to send her off the deep end, her small hands found his chest and shoved him away.

"No!"

Bellamy watched her try to pull herself together and watched her fall, only getting madder after each failed attempt. Taking pity he raised his right hand, gun in palm held out to her.

The motion stopped Clarke's internal war, she looked only at his hand. She walked toward him, as soon as she was close enough to grab the gun she reached out to take it. At the same time her hand reached down for the gun, Bellamy turned his hand sideways letting the weapon fall to the dirt below. Before she could pull away Clarke's wrist was trapped by Bellamy's empty.

Bellamy's eyes were on the blonde's face, while hers looked at her gunless hand. What did he think he was doing? Before she could voice her thoughts Bellamy stepped into her.

(Mature Scene Ahead)

The index finger of his free hand-hooked in her jeans belt buckle, their hips meeting violently. Clarke cried out, the only human contact she'd had in seven months was Octavia curling up behind her at night, and the occasional brush of skin when she'd hand a customer their morning coffee.

Bellamy shut himself off from everyone at the agency, Shockingly Roan being the only one he'd talked to for intel. He hadn't been able to think about his needs when the only thing he could focus on was murdering every son of a bitch who'd taken part in the death of his partner. He hadn't touched another girl, and he swore to god if another man had lad a hand on his Princess, at the rate Bellamy was going he'd probably kill them.

His finger slipped from her belt loop and moved between them to flick open the button of her jeans. His hands controlled her, spinning her so her back was to his chest, rough hands wasting no time sliding into her underwear.

The blonde's head fell back into his shoulder, her hips pushed back into his. Her hand gripped the tanned wrist that moved with his fingers. At first, Bellamy thought Clarke was going to stop him, but her other handheld his as he ravished her breasts said otherwise.

Bellamy's fingers were not genital as he worked her clit, his eyes watching her struggle to stay silent. He wanted her screams, whatever she wanted to give him, he wouldn't stand for silence.

Removing his hand from her breasts it slid to her waist, shoving her jeans to mid-thigh. He knew she was close from the way her body was shaking as she tried to hold back. Using a knee to spread her legs as much as her jeans would allow, he lost contact with her for only a second before he brought his palm down fast on her clit.

Clarke screamed, her head whipping forward, body arching into his warm one as she came. The only reason she wasn't slumped over in the dirt at the moment was because of Bellamy's strong arm across her chest.

Not giving her any recovery time, Bellamy plunged into her trembling sex. His body curled around hers as he moaned into her blonde locks. His thrusts fast and unforgiving, Clarke held onto him, neither holding back the dam giving way in them both. Clarke begged for another release and she got it.

Even after her second orgasm, when they pulled away to disrobe neither moved too far from the other. It was like together, their pain was a little easier to take.

Bellamy's cock jerked with the need to be inside her again, Lowering her onto the tarp under them. Clarke flat on her stomach and him behind her, the crinkle sound the tarp made pulling Clarke out of her daze.

Hand on cock Bellamy lined himself up with her center, sliding his head between her lips from hole to clit. His arm supported his weight as he leaned over to talk to her.

Clarke's body had gone tense, her mind thinking about the tarp under her. The tarp was more than likely there because it was what Bellamy was going to use to wrap the body in. The dead body was less than 15 feet away from them.

"Don't think about it." He told her.

She whimpered, her hips rising to meet his. That was the green light Bellamy needed. They both groaned in pleasure as he stretched her walls. Bellamy refused to close his eyes, he didn't want to miss a single tremble, lip bite or move Clarke made. He hadn't let himself feel the loss of her since she left, he'd allowed anger and revenge to trump everything.

Clarke kept her hips off the floor, meeting him thrust for thrust. As soon as he let his hips come down a little harder Clarke's overly stimulated nub made contact with the rough tarp bellow, her body recoiled in pain.

"Bellamy." She whimpered.

By the time she'd called out to him, he'd already slid from her sex. His hand on her hip turned her over to face him for the first time that night. As soon as he had her thighs around his hips, he slid back into her.

His trust was deep and long, his right hand held her hip while his left went under her arm to hold her shoulder. Their bodies were close now, sliding over each other made easier by the perspiration on their bodies. Bellamy made an effort not to bump her clit. His lips were on her shoulder while her hands found him, one on his shoulder, holding his body to her, the other in his hair. He couldn't help but bite her shoulder when her nails dragged across his scalp.

They came together that last time, holding onto one another.

(Sexy time done)

They got dressed in silence, a kiss here, a touch there, but no words were exchanged. Despite where they were, everything seemed to freeze at that moment. That was until the sound of approaching sirens sounded.