Yes! I am halfway through my senoir year of High School, and I finally broke past the hundred thousand word barrier! Time to celebrate with mega big time intensity!
And also time to thank my astounding reviews. Thanks more than you even know to each and every one of you. Your reviews are the fuel under my fire! Really, I would have quit this story a long time ago if it wasn't for you guys. RainTastesGood actually told me she loves my fic so much she'd print every chapter off and read it as a book...Probably the greatest review I've ever gotten. But all of them are so so motivating, and I smile every time I read them, old and new, so thanks again, and I LOVE YOU GUYS!
Warning: F bomb. Wasn't going to put one in this story, but it fit.
Sorry for any mistakes, I literally had no time to edit. I put this up with 10 minutes left on my laptop and no charger. Hope there's not too many!
Here ya go:
Breakdown
Chapter 30: Hostage
"So...James Diamond. How have you been?"
Suddenly it was as if all of James' nerves had been yanked out of him. He was left feeling more angry than he ever had in his life. He wanted so badly it hurt to punch that creepy smile off the son-of-a-bitch's face. But James kept in control.
"Is that a joke?" he hissed lowly.
Dr. Clark cocked his to the side in a gesture of confusion. "I'm sorry?"
"Oh, you're sorry. You should be more than sorry!" James exploded. He gripped the edges of his chair so tightly his hands began to cramp. He hardly felt it.
"You've ruined my life, my career, and maybe even torn apart my friendship with the three guys who have been my best friends for nine years! They hate me because I'm keeping secrets from them at your expense! Do you have any idea how hard it was to have such a long, unbreakable friendship shatter in mere minutes like that because I'm keeping things from them? ! Because I'm making them talk about the things they don't want to talk about so that you can have what you want? ! It's hell!"
James was screaming so convincingly that for a moment he'd even tricked himself into thinking that everything he was saying was true. But of course it wasn't. It was all part of the plan. Make Dr. Clark think the boys of BTR were amidst a huge argument.
But Dr. Clark didn't look pleased. He just looked baffled.
"James...are you feeling alright today? Have you been getting a sufficient amount of sleep lately?"
James frowned. What? Where was this coming from? Why was Dr. Clark acting so...nice? It had James' head spinning even more than it already was.
"I- you know what I'm talking about. You- last session you..." James trailed off. He knew what he was trying to say; he just couldn't form the sentence in his mind. He was lost. What was going on?
Dr. Clark was peering closely at James with an expression of concern. But James could see right through it. He was feigning concern; the worried tone of his voice wasn't genuine. But why? What was the point? James knew what he was planning; what was Dr. Clark gaining by pretending to care? Some sick form of pleasure in seeing his victim squirm before they even got to the bad stuff?
"Have you been taking your medication?" Dr. Clark asked in a quiet voice. It made James want to scream. I know what's going to happen in here in the next five minutes! Just get on with it!
James was still far too bemused to come back with a snappy retort. He settled for a lame "Yes."
Dr. Clark nodded, leaning back in his chair. "I see," he said softly. Again with the gentle voice! What's his game?
"Maybe we should try something a little different today," he suggested, and James perked up. Here we go.
"I'm going to need you to turn your cell phone off for this activity," Dr. Clark told James. James froze. He couldn't breathe again. What? No, no. it needed to be on; it was his only shot at getting the police the proof!
"Wh-why?" he stammered out, not even trying to hide his nerves.
"Well, we don't want any distractions. The main objective of this next exercise is to get you feeling completely calm and relaxed. I can tell you're feeling quite a bit stressed right now. So why don't you turn off your phone and hand it to me?"
James' hand went to his pocket. Not a chance. He needed to get Dr. Clark to say something, anything that would give him away before he could turn his phone off. So far he had nothing! He needed to convince Dr. Clark that there was no harm being done having his cell phone in his pocket.
"I don't think anyone's gonna try to text or call me. All my friends know I'm here and everyone else thinks I'm at rehearsal with the other guys." Another lie, obviously. But Dr. Clark really didn't need to know they were all here.
"I'm sorry, James, I just don't want to risk it. Please turn your cell phone off."
"It's off already anyway," James continued desperately. "I always turn it off before coming into...into therapy." He spat the last word with as much venom coating his voice as he could muster. Dr. Clark did not seem affected. James was starting to get pissed off. Why the hell not?
"Very well then. Please place you phone on my desk."
James gritted his teeth together. He knew. That was all the nervous teen could think. Dr. Clark knows what I'm doing. That's why he doesn't want me to have my phone on or with me. That's why he isn't saying anything that will give him away. He knows.
James felt like a giant block of ice had settled into his stomach. His entire body felt heavy and cold. He shivered. Was that a pre-death chill?
"My phone isn't on. Why can't I just keep it in my pocket?" he hissed. If there was a chance Dr. Clark didn't know what he was up to, which James was sure he did anyway, he wasn't going to blurt right out that yes, he was recording this conversation, and therefore he couldn't very well hand his phone over, now could he?
"James, please don't fight me. I just want to help you best I can. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
And there it was. He did know. Dr. Clark's voice may have remained steady with that last statement of his, but he let James know he meant business by the evil glint in his eye and the way he pulled his lips back like an angry dog about to attack.
James' breath hitched. Maybe he should just...but no! That would make coming back here pointless. Today was about exposing Dr. Clark, gathering the evidence required to bring him down. James wasn't going to give up that easily.
He held his ground, staring down the beyond nasty man sneering at him from behind his large oak wood desk. James wasn't going to let him look at anyone else like that. It ended here, today.
"You're not getting my phone," he insisted. Dr. Clark's left eye began to twitch, and James knew he had the man close enough to where he wanted him. If Dr. Clark didn't get the phone, he didn't get the information. If he tried to take the phone by force, he'd risk James escaping and releasing the recording to the police.
Nevertheless, Dr. Clark didn't appear to be too concerned. He merely opened a desk drawer, fished out a key, and opened another drawer. The one that contained it. The gun.
Dr. Clark calmly began inspecting the gun as James' cockiness faded. Dr. Clark didn't care if he got caught on the audio device. He'd simply kill James before he left the office. Yes, Dr. Clark was that cold-blooded. It didn't surprise James one bit.
"Would you rather just start the activity?" Dr. Clark asked, still saying nothing that could be used against him. He was being pretty quiet with the gun, too.
James eyed it warily. He blinked t he sweat that dripped from his forehead out of his eyes. He struggled to take in sufficient breaths. His stomach continued its relentless churning. He trembled harder. This was a mess. He didn't have anything useful and already his resolve was nearly shattered. What ever possessed him to make him think he could pull this off?
But James was strong. He was bold, he was confident, and he was driven. He had a task that needed to be completed, and he wasn't going to leave this office until it was.
So James straightened up in his seat and took on an arrogant smirk.
"Lets do it."
James' phone lay on Dr. Clark's desk. He'd given it over to the gun-wielding man pretty quickly after he'd wordlessly threatened to shoot James' brains out. Now that it was no longer on record, Dr. Clark was not holding back with his words, and it didn't even matter. James had no way to get the evidence now, yet he was stuck here with Dr. Clark for the next hour- if Dr. Clark let him go when he was usually done. There was no stopping Dr. Clark from saying that he and James were having a real break through and the session ran a little long. James was his last patient of the day, after all.
"I heard what your little 'leader' did to my boss. He's pretty ignorant, that Kendall, isn't he? You've always thought so. Maybe there's something I can do to change that."
"Look, I have the information. I'm willing to give it to you. That's all this is about, isn't it?"
Dr. Clark chuckled darkly. It was a sound James was quickly getting sick of. "I'm afraid not, James. You see, Hawk doesn't like when people threaten him, and that's exactly what you're clueless little friend did. Needs to watch his temper, that one. You just never know when it'll get him or the people he cares about in trouble."
James ground his teeth together. He was really angry now. He didn't like any of what Dr. Clark was saying. The entire plan had failed. James just wanted to get out of there. But there was no escape, not with that gun having no trouble remaining pointed in his direction.
"Just listen to what I brought you. I'm doing what you told me to do. So after this, you can let me go, and you'll never hear anything good about us again. You and Hawk can celebrate the downfall of BTR like the psychopaths you are all you want. Just stick with the deal that you made and everything will go your way."
Dr. Clark seemed to consider for a moment. The room grew eerily quiet as the man behind the desk placed a hand dramatically to his chin and tilted his head at a slight angle. Then he suddenly sat up straight and snapped his fingers, startling the anxious James.
"Deal's off."
All colour drained from James' face as he stuttered out, "E-excuse me? You can't-"
"Hawk doesn't need any pathetic secrets to destroy Big Time Rush."
"Wh-what do you mean?"
There was that hideous laugh again. "I mean, James, that Hawk doesn't have to worry about getting Big Time Rush out of his way of there is no Big Time Rush."
James' eyes snapped to the gleaming hunk of fatal metal in Dr. Clark's hand and stayed there.
"No..."
"But don't worry," Clark continued. "I'm not going to kill you."
James didn't relax in the slightest.
"Not right away, at least. I'm going to have a little fun first. We're going to have a little fun." He leaned in close to James again and spoke in a low, intimidating voice. "Are you ready for some fun?"
Without waiting for James to answer, Dr. Clark stood from his desk and began to pace. James was actually glad. He wasn't sure what he would have said. He wanted to stay bold, act like he wasn't afraid, but that was nearly impossible considering his chair was shaking from him trembling so hard. He was scared again. Maybe his nerves were messing with the bipolar part of him because he was going from angry to cocky to nervous to flat out terrified faster than his body could catch up to his mind when these changes occurred.
"I must admit, I was quite thrilled when Hawk called to tell me not to make it so easy for you. And all the pain you go through today can be blamed on your fearless leader. If he hadn't gotten involved, I would have just asked for the information and let you go on with your miserable life. But now...now I get to be creative. Now I get to have some fun. And once it's all over with, I get to kill you."
Dr. Clark moved around his desk so that he was on the same side as James. "I'm curious, though," he began, slowly circling around James' chair. "Had the situation with Kendall not occurred, if you were to simply give me the information and leave, would you have done it? Would you really have ruined the lives of your friends, just like that? Or would you have protected them, saved them their pride, and as a result, gotten yourself killed?" Dr. Clark finished his second loop around James and came to a stop in front of him. "Because, you see James, from what I've learned about you in our short month together, you're not the greatest friend. Sure, here you are in LA, sharing the spotlight with your friends when all you really wanted was to be famous. You never once thought about taking your friends along with you. Your dreams have always been selfish. And that leads me to wonder; how much do you truly value your friendship?"
James glared up at the man and tried not to let him see how scared he was. Fortunately- or, as little unfortunately as he could get in this situation, James didn't have to worry much about that. His lingering shock masked any of the other emotions he was feeling right then. Dr. Clark wasn't even giving him a chance. He was just going to kill him, right here, and then kill his friends without a moment's hesitation.
Dr. Clark spoke again. "I guess we'll never find out, will we?" And the next thing James knew, hot pain was erupting across his face as his cheek began to throb. He'd been hit.
Dr. Clark's face was right in his. "Wasn't that fun?" he cried, his eyes wide with a hungry, demented expression. He was enjoying this.
James turned his head away and didn't answer. Of course this wasn't fun. But he wasn't going to let himself utter a sound. If Dr. Clark was planning on killing him anyway, then he was getting nothing out of him.
"No, huh?" Dr. Clark breathed. He stepped back and let his fist fly a second time. It connected with James' cheek again, and he nearly cried out at taking the hit to the same already sore spot. But he bit his lip, hard, and barely managed to hold back his shout of pain.
Dr. Clark was grinning manically, his features the epitome of excitement. It was absolutely sickening, how powerful and full of life committing an act this horrendous made him feel.
"Still not having a good time, are we? Well, don't you worry. I can do something about that."
And then he struck again.
Carlos kicked his feet anxiously and gazed around the waiting area. His eyes scanned over the other people sitting in the uncomfortable chairs, and he felt a swell of envy. Maybe those people had some serious issues, but none of them had a friend who was quite possibly being put through hell right then. Their problems, whatever they were, seemed so unimportant to Carlos that he just wanted to scream at all of them to get over whatever it was that had them here.
But Carlos knew that wouldn't be right; it wouldn't be fair. These people were all worried about someone they loved, that was why they were here; just like he was, and Logan, and Kendall, and Katie and Mrs. Knight. And Carlos knew he wouldn't be too pleased if one of these strangers began to shout at him to go home because whatever he or his loved one was going through didn't matter. So Carlos held his tongue and resorted to widening his eyes as big as he could and staring at Logan.
The smart boy, of course, noticed this, and gave his antsy friend an exasperated look.
"Carlos, be patient. I know you hate waiting; we all do. But we still have to wait half an hour, so don't lose your patience already. It's gonna be fine. James is gonna walk outta there with the evidence, Clark and Hawk are going to get the life-long punishment they deserve, and we are going to work through whatever consequences this causes, and move on with our lives. We may lose our careers, but at least we're all going to come out of this alive."
Carlos pouted. He wanted to believe Logan, he really did, but it was hard to stay positive when his best friend and fellow Party King was alone with a very dangerous man right now. Naturally Carlos' mind was going to dig up all the negative possibilities, no matter how much he fought it.
"Logan's right, Carlos," Kendall chimed in. He regarded Carlos with a serious but soft stare. "You just need to have a little faith, and a lot of patience. We planned everything out. Soon this'll all be over and though it's gonna take some time to forget about- hell, James probably won't ever forget about it- this will end, and we'll finally be able to go back to normal. And if that means gathering stray shopping carts for minimum wage back in Minnesota, then so be it. Whatever it takes, we are going to get through this."
Ah, Kendall. I do always love your speeches.
Yes, Carlos loved and respected everything Kendall had to say in a time of crisis, but he still didn't feel a hundred percent about this.
"I know we'll get through this. We always do," Carlos agreed. "But, this is different. Bigger. The worse thing that's ever happened. And what about when it is all over? Then what? James will still need help. This- well...the kind of help this was supposed to be," he spat venomously. "What then? You said it yourself, Kendall; James will never forget about this. He's never going to be able to trust again."
Logan and Kendall shared a slightly horrified look. Carlos was right. They hadn't thought about that. James was clearly going to need proper mental help after this, but how could he ever be expected to trust a therapist again?
Logan opened his mouth and closed it, not sure what to say. He gave Kendall a hopeless look before turning back to Carlos.
But the Latino suddenly had no interest in what either of his off guard friends had to say. He stood up. "I'm going to find the bathroom," he announced, and promptly walked away, leaving Kendall, Logan, and Katie to watch his retreating back while they suffered through the agony of worrisome waiting in silence.
Carlos was glad Mrs. Knight had gone outside to call Brooke. The mother had been alerted earlier in the week as to everything that was occurring, but she had been and was still currently on a business trip she couldn't get out of and wouldn't be back till the next day. If Kendall's mother had been inside when Carlos left to go to the 'bathroom', her motherly intuition would have told her instantly that Carlos was lying. He wasn't searching for the restroom. He was searching for James' room.
He couldn't explain it, even to himself, but he just knew that something wasn't right. It was like he and James shared some sort of special connection, and Carlos could feel James' distress. Carlos felt in the pit of his stomach that something had gone horribly wrong.
As he was soon to learn, that feeling in his stomach had been right. It was one of those rare times when Carlos was right about something. And it was the first time he wished he wasn't.
"Ugh!"
James wasn't even bothering with trying to hold back his cries anymore. His lip was split, his nose was broken, and his cheek was on fire. He also had a shallow cut on his temple from the sheer force of the impact of Dr. Clark's unrestrained fist slamming over and over again into his swollen, bruising face.
Dr. Clark stopped swinging his hands wildly for a moment, and James relished the momentary break. But it wasn't without pain. No, James was in tons of it. Even though it was just the neck up so far that had received the beating, his entire body throbbed and ached. He felt sick. And the worst part was that he was so exhausted from lack of sleep due to the nightmares that he was too weak to fight back, to think, to try to defend himself. Not that there was much he could do to protect himself from a gun, which he most certainly hadn't forgotten about.
James used this punch-free minute to roll onto his stomach and cough and spit blood onto the floor. But just because Dr. Clark wasn't abusing James with his hands didn't mean he couldn't still inflict mind-numbing pain on him. A foot slammed itself into James' stomach, and the teenager was left gasping and choking on the air that was caught in his throat and his own thick, coppery blood. The pool of crimson forming beneath his face was growing rapidly.
James moaned and pressed his forehead weakly against the cool tiled floor. Considering he was receiving kick after kick to his midsection, it didn't matter that the coldness of the floor helped soothe the burning sensation in his face. Now his cracking ribs screamed in protest, and James forgot all about his throbbing temple, jaw, nose, cheeks. The agony had consumed him completely now.
And then, suddenly, unexpectedly, the battering stopped. James could hear himself breathing heavily. He could feel the whimpers that built up in his throat and threatened to escape. But he didn't give Dr. Clark the satisfaction of seeing just how broken he truly was. James squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that burned his eyes and were ready to spill over.
Dr. Clark's sinister voice spoke from above him, and he sounded nauseatingly amused. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone wants to join us." He clicked his tongue distastefully. "That one just can't stop worrying, can he?"
James forced himself to push through the pain and roll over to his back to see what his torturer was talking about. Dr. Clark was looking at his laptop screen, which sat on his desk, facing them. James hadn't noticed it before, but now he could see the multiple smaller screens, displaying various locations within the building. He had cameras everywhere.
Dr. Clark pressed a button on the keyboard, and one of the camera angles became enlarged and took up the entire screen. James weakly lifted his head for a good look and his stomach dropped.
The screen showed the point of view of the camera that pointed at the door of Dr. Clark's office. Standing there, glancing left down the hall, then right, was none other than...Carlos.
Dr. Clark turned from his laptop, chuckling darkly. "Oh, this is perfect. The idiot- well, the biggest idiot of your group coming to your rescue. You told, didn't you?"
James refused to look away from Dr. Clark's cold, harsh eyes. He wasn't scared, he wasn't scared, it didn't matter that he was laying half-conscious and bleeding all over himself on the floor, he wasn't scared...
"Lucky for you it doesn't matter. I was going to kill you anyway. Don't get your hopes up. Still am. But wouldn't it be even more fun than this already is if I brought helmet-head in a gave him a little taste of what you're getting?"
James' eyes widened. No. Not Carlos.
He shook his head, ignoring the grenade-launching going on in there. "Don't even think about touching Carlos. Just kill me. I told. I deserve to die. Not him. Not any of them. Just me."
Dr. Clark smirked down at the bloodied, beaten boy. "I don't think you're the one who should be giving orders. Tell me, do you feel like you're in the position to be telling me what to do? Cause you sure as hell do not look it. So I advise you keep your mouth shut and let whatever happens next happen. It doesn't matter what you say; I'm still going to kill all of you."
James closed his eyes as Dr. Clark headed to the door, gun grasped purposefully in his hand, his finger over the trigger even though James knew he hadn't turned the safety off yet. Carlos didn't know that.
James heard the door open. He heard a soft gasp, and he heard "Welcome, Carlos!" in a fake cheerful voice that made him want to scream. "Please, come on in. I'm sure James will just love to have you in here for moral support."
James heard footsteps, he wanted to tell Carlos to get away, to run, to get help, to forget about the plan; it was screwed to hell by now, but he couldn't get his mouth to open. Then James heard the door close, followed by the click of the lock being pressed down, and only then did he open his eyes.
James had been expecting to see Carlos, of course, but it made it none the less painful to see his innocent best friend standing there beside a man so purely evil, both polar-opposites staring down at him. James felt the pain in Carlos' eyes more than saw it.
The sight of Carlos condemned in this room with him, with that monster, was the end for James. He lost whatever it was that had been holding the dam together, and he burst, the tears flowing rapidly down his blood-streaked face like a pink waterfall.
Carlos gasped and didn't close his mouth. His eyes were watering instantly. It killed him more than he ever thought possible to see his best friend lying half-conscious, bloodied and battered on the floor. But the first emotion to wash over him was not grief. It was rage.
Despite the pleading look in James' eyes that begged Carlos not to do anything stupid, Carlos whirled on Dr. Clark and swung.
Dr. Clark expected the attempted attack and dodged the fist. He straightened up and lifted the gun that Carlos had almost forgotten about.
Dr. Clark laughed demonically at the way Carlos suddenly simmered down and took on a terrified expression. "I know you're the idiot of the group," the evil man began. "But you're even more stupid that I would have thought."
James tensed angrily. Or maybe it was the pain that had his muscle tightening up. Probably both. He hated it enough listening to this man's voice speaking to him, but insulting Carlos? He wasn't going to stand for it.
While Dr. Clark's attention was diverted to Carlos, James pushed himself up onto his elbows, trying to ignore the way his arms quavered. "You don't speak to my friend like that," he hissed, his voice thick as he spoke around the blood that filled his mouth.
Dr. Clark's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected James to say anything. He knelt down next to the injured teen. "When you're holding a gun to someone's head, you can speak to them however the hell you want." As if to exaggerate his words, Dr. Clark pressed the gun against James' temple. "It's the person who has the gun to their head that should keep their mouth shut."
And then James heard the click. The safety had been turned off.
"Where's Carlos?"
Logan, Kendall, and Katie glanced up at Mrs. Knight's question. She had just come back inside from calling a very distressed Brooke, and she wasn't sure what to think when she'd saw that Carlos was missing.
"Oh, he just went to the bathroom," Logan replied, and Kendall nodded to confirm.
"And how long has he been gone?"
This time Kendall went to answer, but as he opened his mouth, he realized he had been going to say 'About six minutes.' Carlos wasn't shy. If he'd had trouble locating the bathroom he would have asked the first person he saw; so why was he taking so long? Kendall wanted to think that Carlos was...having the bodily function that took more time than the other, but he couldn't help but worry. Carlos had been so antsy...
"Oh my god."
Logan had apparently caught on, too, judging by the way his face was suddenly very pale.
"Boys?" Mrs. Knight prompted, urgent panic evident in her voice. Katie, who had been slouched tiredly in her chair, was now sitting up attentively.
Logan made a strange choking sound as he entwined his fingers through his hair and pulled.
"No," he whispered. "No, no, no. Not Carlos, too. Oh, god...He's in there." He choked again, gasping wildly for air as Mrs. Knight collapsed into the nearest chair. "He's in there."
Kendall stood abruptly, knocking his chair over backwards. It was quite obvious what his intentions were, and his mother and Logan moved quickly, each grabbing a wrist and not letting go when he flailed and squirmed, struggled to break away from them.
"Let me go!" he bellowed, drawing the attention of the other waiting room residents. He didn't care that he was receiving baffled stares and gawks. He needed to get to his friends!
But his mom and friend weren't letting up.
"Kendall, I know how badly you want to go in there, sweetie, but you can't! It's dangerous-"
"Exactly! It's dangerous! As in, James and Carlos are in danger! And I'm not letting them get hurt! Not anymore."
"Excuse me, is there a problem over here?"
Four heads snapped toward the source of the voice. The receptionist was standing there, looking at them with a mixture of curiosity and disapproval. She cocked her head to the side as she awaited an answer.
"We're terribly sorry, he's just-"
"Yes! There is a problem!" Kendall finally slipped from Logan and Mrs. Knight's grasp and stood not a foot from the young woman. "One of your 'doctors' is holding two of my friends hostage!"
The receptionist frowned and peered past Kendall at Mrs. Knight. Mrs. Knight didn't even have to say anything or make any sort of gesture. The fear in her eyes was proof enough.
But the receptionist was a little weary. Was this boy a patient? She didn't recognize him. Only...yes, she did. He'd been here before, twice, with that handsome brunette...James Diamond. He was with Dr. Clark at the moment.
"Dr. Clark?" she asked, and Kendall's eyes darkened with rage at the name.
"Yes, Clark is the bastard who's holding them hostage! He threatened James last session! He has a-"
"GUN!"
And just as that last word burst from Kendall's lips, he heard a scream of terror come from across the waiting room shrieking the same word.
James wasn't sure if it was the ringing in his ears from the concussion he was sure he had, or the horror of having a loaded gun pressing against his temple, but he swore he heard someone scream.
Or maybe he wasn't just imagining it, because Carlos and Dr. Clark's heads snapped up, too. They both looked toward the door.
Dr. Clark was up in a flash, giving James a swift kick to the head and ribs to ensure that he stayed down. Carlos could only watch on in his frozen state of silence.
Dr. Clark pointed the gun at Carlos as he hurried to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening hard.
Yes, there it was. Screaming.
Eyes wild with fury, Dr. Clark turned back to the two helpless, shaking teens.
"WHO TOLD?" he raged. Both boys winced at the acidic tone, but they didn't say a thing.
Dr. Clark shook his hand as if to remind them that one twitch of his finger and they'd be dead. "WHO CALLED THE FUCKING COPS?"
"I-it wasn't us!" Carlos cried, knowing that James was in no shape to answer. But even through the fear, Carlos did wonder...
"WELL YOU TOLD SOMEONE! WHY ELSE WOULD THEY BE HERE?"
Carlos was sobbing now. He knew he was going to die. He just knew it.
"We don't know!" He was desperate, but he knew it was no good. Clark was going to kill him no matter what.
But then a weak voice spoke up from the floor. "Yes, I told them," James croaked. He coughed, spitting out a mouth full of blood, the crimson puddle beneath him growing rapidly. He slowly sat up, leaning back against the desk and wincing as his bleeding head pounded, and panted heavily. Dr. Clark moved the gun to him
"So kill me. Not Carlos. He didn't call the police."
"Oh, I will kill you, don't worry," Dr. Clark griped. "Both of you. And then your other friends. The sister, too, just for fun. Maybe the mom."
James hardly heard him. His eyes were on Carlos. The smaller boy was seething through his tears. His eyes met James', and the beaten boy opened his as wide as they could open in a warning. Pointless.
Dr. Clark was focused solely on James. Carlos decided to seize this opportunity. He lunged himself at Dr. Clark, and the older man's face took on an expression James had never seen on it before. Surprise. He was caught off guard.
Carlos was on the doctor's back, and he began to punch aimlessly, landing blows to the man head, neck, and face. Dr. Clark let out a furious roar and ran backwards, smashing Carlos against the wall.
Carlos groaned as his breath left his lungs in a rush, and he slid halfway down the wall. He refused to go down. If he did, it would all be over.
Dr. Clark bared his teeth like a feral dog and began to move in on Carlos, gun aimed, finger ready to pull the trigger and let Carlos' brains splatter out all over the wall. James was trying to crawl his way over, but he was barely clinging to consciousness and he knew there was nothing he could do.
This was the end. He was going to watch Carlos die by the hand of the man all four friends hated most in this world. He was sitting right there, and there was no way he could prevent it.
And then it happened, but all in a blur. There was a splintering crack! andthe door was gone. It crashed to the floor. James and Carlos supposed it would have made a loud noise as it hit the ground, but they didn't hear it.
Carlos was facing the door where several uniformed men of the LAPD stood, guns up. James was still staring at Dr. Clark. His gun was up. He had a look of steely determination on his face.
And then they heard it. The deafening cross between a crack and a bang.
A gunshot.
Alright, so I'll tell you guys this. Someone got shot. But who was it? That I'm not telling you...at least not till next chapter, so review, review, review! I'm hoping to get to 200 reviews this chap, cause its 30 which is an increment of 5 and I have this thing with increments of 5...Yeah. I'm not normal.
Let me know who you think got shot! Oh, and who called the police? They didn't just show up, someone gave them a ring. Gimme your guesses!
Okay, so you have your questions, and I'm sure you have lots of comments, so lets get Breakdown to 200!