Arran's Law

Chanelle's boyfriend Arran is accused of murder, and she goes on a one woman mission to clear his name.


2. A Close Call

"It's getting late. We should probably go before the gangs come out." Arran tells me after about half an hour. I look up, and see that the sun has set and the sky is rapidly darkening. Fear shoots through me with so much force that I nearly fall to the ground. Gritting my teeth, I manage to remain upright by sheer willpower. Around here, when the sun goes down the normals go crazy and the crazy go psycho. The gangs emerge from their hiding places, high and ready to kill anyone who looks at them the wrong way.

"Shit," I curse. Arran sees how afraid I am. He takes my hand, and pulls me towards the block of flats behind us. I need no encouragement, and start sprinting. It's only a five minute walk, but a lot can happen in five minutes. A life can begin in five minutes - a life can end in five minutes. Arran pulls me back to a walk. I look at him like he's just suggested we go tell one of the gang leaders that he's a complete spazzoid.

"Don't run, Nells." Arran advises me. "It'll make you look like you're afraid, and they can sense fear." It sounds like he's talking about aliens or something, but he's right. I try to calm the animalistic fear, and slow my pace to a walk. Arran pulls up his hood, and I do the same.


We walk towards the flats, not too fast and not too slow. Every step seems to last forever, and every little noise makes me want to scream in pure terror. I don't think I've ever been so scared in all my life. The only thing stopping me from losing it completely is the warmth of Arran's hand holding on to mine. He's my rock, my light at the end of the tunnel. As we draw closer to the flats, the sound of drunken laughter gets louder. Just the sound doubles my heart rate and triples my fear. I'm supposed to be strong, not afraid of anything, but now I want to start crying like a little girl. Arran squeezes my hand, but it doesn't calm me the way it usually does. Somehow, it makes me feel even more hysterical.

"Calm, Nells." Arran whispers, and I try to do what he says. And I fail miserably.


When the source of the druken laughter comes into view, it just makes things worse. It's Jordan and his crew. Of all the crazy, murderous, psycho gangs in this shithole, they are the worst. Rumour has it that they committed the triple murder that made the national news four months ago. But the code of silence around here stopped anyone from snitching. Anyone who snitches would be found out, and hunted down like a wild animal. I would know - I've seen it happen. I'm not really scared of the gang members, but Jordan... I knew him when we were in school. Hell, I even dated him when I was fifteen. But then he... He did something to me that I'll never forget. Something that I want to kill him for. Something that only him, me, and Arran know about. A curse slips past my lips. Arran squeezes my hand, and I know he's thinking about the same thing that I am. Rot in fucking hell Jordan, I think furiously.


As we draw closer, I see that it's not just Jordan and his crew. The notorious Miranda Lockhart is hanging on to Jordan. She's even dressed slutty, in tiny shorts and a crop top even though it's absolutely freezing. Jordan isn't paying her any attention. He's staring at me, and I have no idea why. The only explanation is one so terrifying that I want to run away screaming. Jordan's black eyes meet mine, and I instantly feel like ice. I'm looking into the eyes of a killer, I think in horror.

"Hey, Chanelle." Jordan says in a sing-song voice, as if he was talking to a stupid person, and the sound of his voice freezes my blood in my veins. Arran lets go of my hand, and puts his arm around me, holding me close to him. "You're looking especially sweet tonight." Jordan continues. If Arran said that, then I'd smile at him and kiss him. But when Jordan says it, it makes me want to knock his head off of his shoulders and use it as a bowling ball. Jordan's eyes move down my body, and settle on my ass. "Man, I'd like a piece of that." Jordan says, licking his lips. Rage shoots through me, and I'm ready to kill him. I clench my fist, and can so clearly see myself charging over and ripping him apart. After what he did to me, I learnt how to fight. I couldn't kick ass then, but I can now, and I'm not in the mood to take any fucking prisoners. When Arran hears this, he moves me slightly behind him, and he removes his arm from my shoulders. I see all his muscles tense, and he's ready to open a can of whup-ass on Jordan.

"Don't you disrespect her. Otherwise, I'll rip your face off, and use it as a fucking mask!" Arran threatens. A round of drunken laughter erupts at that. Miranda detaches herself from Jordan, and walks over to Arran.

"You're a fighter." She says, clearly flirting with him. "I like that." She purrs, stepping forward and running her hand lightly up Arran's chest. And to my horror, Arran does nothing about it.

"Take your filthy hands off of my boyfriend." I say through my teeth. I'm so mad, I feel like a volcano that's about to erupt. Arran immediately jumps back at the sound of my voice. He walks backwards, so he's standing next to me again.

"I'll see you later, lover boy." Miranda says, and she departs along with Jordan's crew. I breathe a long sigh of relief.

"What the bloody hell did she mean by 'lover boy'?" I demand, turning to Arran. He looks at me, and his grey eyes are warm.

"She thinks she can get any guy she wants, but she can't. I love you, and no one else." Arran says, grinning that lopsided grin that I love so much. I smile back at him as he guides me back towards the flats.

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