Page 26

UNTIL THE DAY I DIE: STORY OF THE YEAR

KILLIAN, A MONTH LATER

" B end over my fucking bike, Little Psycho," I hiss, coming up behind Calista and dropping another empty can of spray paint.

I turn my back to my latest piece of art and focus on her ass as she hikes it up over her plump little ass, spreading her legs so I can see everything. I quickly undo my pants and pull my cock out, pushing into her wet cunt in a powerful thrust that pushes her against the seat of my bike.

"Anyone could see us, Killian," she laughs, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder, but she wiggles her hips to help guide me deeper inside.

"So, I don't give a fuck, baby," I grunt through my thrusts, feeling the chill of the wind wrap around us as it fills the tunnel. "You're mine; this pussy is mine, and I'll fuck you wherever I fucking want."

She giggles, a bright, genuine sound that we haven’t heard in quite some time, pure joy illuminating her face. Holding her hips possessively, I pound into her warm cunt as hard as I can, reeling from the way she squeezes around my cock, bringing tingles all the way down to my fucking toes. Her moans echo through the tunnel, the sound of slapping skin becoming music to my ears as I continue to fuck her, owning every inch of her beautiful body and soul.

She pushes her ass back, begging me to go deeper. I lean forward, my chest against her back, while I keep ahold of her hips, fucking her deeply and slowly, trying to savor the moment for as long as possible.

"Fuck, Killian," she moans again, her entire body quivering beneath me.

"What, baby? Tell me what it is," I urge her, feeling my cock pulse between her tight, well walls as I get closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to come," she gasps, writhing against my bike as I reach around and squeeze her throat, rolling my hips while trying to fuck her through her tightening pussy.

"Then let go for me, baby. Come all over my cock and soak it; soak it good," I growl, feeling my cum spill into her without any warning.

But once she feels my cum pouring inside her, she lets go herself, arching her back as I choke her, fucking her with wild strokes and reckless abandon, never wanting this to fucking end. And as I savor the last few thrusts and the feeling of her warm cunt gripping my dick, my mind drifts off to thoughts about where we are now, since everything ended and our new lives began.

I had been so worried about how she would cope after the death of her parents, fearing she might spiral even further and contemplating the terrifying possibility of losing her altogether. But she surprised us. She continues to take her medication to keep her mental health under control, which has been the best thing she could've done. We've all stayed clean, not even picking up a drink, even in moments of celebration and shit. She opens up to all of us instead of pushing us aside and dealing with the shit she goes through all alone. I'm not sure how or why it happened, but Addy is gone; she hasn't shown up since the night Cali killed her parents, which leads me to believe that they were the ones keeping Addy around. Cali had unfinished business with her parents and needed closure more than ever, and until she got it, Addy was going to stick around. The moment she became free of the chains put in place by her parents, Addy disappeared into thin air, only staying by Cali's side to help see her plan through and to help get that closure she so desperately needed. That's what Addy was there for. She was a push, a reminder to never give up, and in some way she was Calista's strength, her guide, her protector, and when all of the threats in her life vanished, Addy was no longer needed.

The initial weeks were tough for her; she watched the news with a hawkish intensity, deeply engrossed in the harrowing coverage of the crime. Yet everything shifted when the headlines revealed that the FBI had dismantled a significant child sex trafficking ring. In that moment, her fears and doubts melted away. She felt a profound relief that her parents were gone, but even more so that justice was being served regarding the flash drives—not just the one she left at her parents’ house, but all the drives she had strategically placed at each crime scene for the authorities to discover.

We were all astonished to see that this crucial information was shared with the public. As the reports unfolded, we learned about each man who met his end and the horrific acts they had committed against children, along with the corruption festering within the police force and political circles. She played an instrumental role in exposing these truths, effectively discrediting all thirteen individuals on her list, including our fathers.

What ultimately allowed her to breathe easy and begin to move past the trauma was the fact that the police had shifted the blame onto an unknown, scorned victim of the unfortunate thirteen. Not once did they mention Calista or any of us as suspects, a revelation that brought us immense relief, assuring us that the nightmare we had endured was truly over—and it would not return to haunt us.

We were free to move forward. We were free to start over, and we embraced this chance wholeheartedly.

Back at our apartment with Dom, Ash, and Five, the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the living room. I look over at Calista, her laughter still echoing softly in my ears. She's sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of sketchbooks and colored pencils—her old form of therapy re-emerging slowly, yet beautifully. It's a sight that fills my heart with hope, and as I look over at Dominic and Ash, I see the same look on their faces. The smudges of graphite dance on the pages, each stroke conveying a sense of resilience that mirrors her journey.

“Can you believe it?” she asks, beaming as she turns a sketch of a girl surrounded by broken glass toward me. “When I first came up with this idea, I never imagined I’d be able to draw freely again. I used to draw before I was locked in the attic, and I always loved it.”

I chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief. “You’ve always had a wild imagination. It’s what we fucking love about you!”

A faint blush creeps onto her cheeks as she laughs, but there's something deeper in her eyes now—an unwavering determination. The darkness that had threatened to engulf her feels like a distant memory, overshadowed by the luminous spirit she exudes now.

Determined to turn a new leaf, Five leans forward on the couch and suggests, “Let’s do something special to celebrate the end of this chapter. All five of us.”

Calista’s eyes sparkle at the suggestion. “Really? Like, just us? No more worries?”

He nods; the weight of our past has begun to lift, and it feels exhilarating to invite possibility back into our lives. She takes a moment, her gaze drifting out the window, contemplating possibilities, her face lighting up with youthful fervor.

"What do you have in mind?" she asks, gathering her stuff and putting it away, anxious to find out what Five has planned.

But I know already, and so do the others; the only one that doesn't is Calista. I think it's what we need right now before we leave the city we've called home our entire lives. We all want a fresh start, and moving to a whole new place sounds fucking like the perfect place to begin.

"A race," Five announces, a smile gracing his lips. "One final race with the five of us to celebrate all the good that's been happening since shit ended."

"I love that idea," she exclaims, rubbing her hands together as she sits on Dominic’s lap, kissing him on his cheek.

"It'll be nice to feel the growl of my engine as I push my car a final time," Ash says, nostalgia hitting him hard.

"When is this race?" she asks, curiosity piqued.

"Tonight at the underground. Cars, bikes, the whole nine," Five tells her, unable to stop himself from smiling.

"Well, what the fuck are we waiting for?" She winks, clearly ready to start our final race.

As the adrenaline builds in the air, we scramble to get ready. The energy in the room is electric, laughter bubbling over as we dig through our gear. I grab my helmet while Dominic is pacing nervously, but I can see glimpses of excitement in his eyes. He adjusts his gloves, channeling that anxious energy into focused determination.

Calista darts around, her playful spirit alive and thriving once again. “Just like the old days, huh? Remember those late-night races under the stars?” She asks, her voice filled with nostalgia.

“Let’s make this one count,” I reply, my heart swelling as we share a bittersweet moment. “Tonight’s about memories and new beginnings.”

As we pile into the vehicles, the sun fully sets, leaving a canopy of twinkling stars overhead. Our crew gathers at the underground that has served as our racing hub. The familiar faces of friends and rivals light up as we arrive, laughter and banter filling the air. The spirit of camaraderie mixed with fierce competition ignites our excitement, echoing the days when freedom felt infinite. Five gives Calista a reassuring nod as we all prepare for the challenge ahead.

"You ready?" he asks her, his playful competitiveness shining through.

She grins back, determination wrapped around her like a cloak. “I was born ready. Let’s show them what we’ve got!”

We line up at the starting point, our engines revving in a harmonic growl. The energy is palpable, every heartbeat syncing with the rhythmic purring of our machines. The countdown begins, and I can feel the anticipation rising like smoke into the night sky.

“Three… two… one… go!” The world around us blurs as we surge forward, tires screeching against the pavement and adrenaline surging through my veins.

The wind whips against my face, blending with the thrill and freedom swelling in my chest. I glance over at Calista; her laughter carried on the breeze, reminding me of every moment that led us here. For the first time in a long while, I feel alive, connected to something greater than our past—the present, shimmering with the promise of hope and the unknown.

As we navigate the twists and turns of the course, I let the rush guide me. The thrill of racing pushes back against the shadows looming over our past, letting the night become a canvas for our resilience. The cheers of our friends ring in my ears, igniting the flames of our resolve. Each corner we tackle brings us closer together, a symphony of engines and laughter filling the air, drowning out the voices that once taunted us.

With each passing lap, Calista’s infectious spirit ignites something deeper within me; it’s not just a race—it's our reclaiming of joy, our unbridled defiance against everything we’ve endured. In this moment, everything feels possible.

As we round the final curve, the finish line approaches; the fireflies of our past flicker, leaving nothing but the shimmering promise of a bright future. This race—our race—is not just utter chaos or competition; it’s a testament—a celebration of every scar and every triumph, as we prepare to embark on the next chapter of our lives.

When we cross that finish line, it’s not just the victory that fills me; it’s the sensation of freedom and the unquenchable hope that waits beyond the horizon. It’s the realization that together, we’ve created something beautiful from the ashes of despair.

And for the first time in a long while, I’m not just hopeful—I’m genuinely, unreservedly happy.

As we peel off the track and come to a halt, the sounds of revving engines fade into cheers and applause from our friends. I feel the rush of exhilaration coursing through me, tinged with a sense of accomplishment that washes away the grime of our past. Calista jumps out of her car, her face bursting with happiness, and she rushes to us, enveloping me in a fierce embrace.

“We did it! We fucking did it!” she laughs, her voice ringing in the cool night air.

Five and Dominic follow suit, their faces flushed with the thrill of the race and grins that mirror Calista's contagious joy. We share high-fives and playful shoves, reminding one another of the bond we forged through shared struggles and now, equally shared victories. Ash, still sitting behind the wheel, raises an eyebrow, a mock sternness on his face.

“I swear, if you guys didn’t know how to celebrate, I’d be seriously concerned.”

“Celebrate!” Calista screams, her laughter echoing off the walls of the underground garage. “We just raced for our fucking lives!”

As we gather in a circle, still buzzing with adrenaline, Five pulls out a small speaker and sets it down. He flips through his playlist until the heavy bass of our favorite song fills the air, the one that played during countless races in our youth. It feels like a soundtrack to who we've become—a soundtrack of resilience, joy, and connection.

“I know it’s late,” he starts, a gleam in his eye, “but we’ve fucking earned this.”

The impromptu celebration erupts as we break into spontaneous moves, laughter bursting out as we join in the rhythm of our song, no longer bound by fear or regret. We are five unstoppable forces swaying to the beat, surrounded by a crew that supports us through thick and thin.

I glance at Calista, her golden hair glinting like a halo under the fluorescent lights, and the realization strikes me harder than any engine roar: she’s redefined what it means to keep moving forward. It’s not just about racing on a track; it’s about embracing every moment, every fight, and, most importantly, every fragment of joy that sparks life within us.

As the evening unfolds, we gather around as people recount past races and tales of bravery now tinged with humor. We share tender memories of family and lost loved ones, the kind that tighten our chests but also remind us of how blessed we are to have made it this far together.

With the song transitioning to a slow ballad, I find myself drawn to Calista again, our eyes locking in a moment weighted with understanding. None of us needed to articulate it; we simply knew that we had each other’s backs—that together, we were unbreakable.

“Hey, wanna take a little stroll?” I ask, motioning toward the exit.

She nods, and we slip away from the energetic chaos of the crowd. As we step outside into the cool air, the stars hang bright above us, and I can’t help but feel like they’re part of this new chapter—every twinkle a reminder that darkness can always be followed by light.

“Do you think we’ll ever stop racing?” She asks softly, tilting her face to the sky as if seeking answers among the constellations.

“Never,” I reply, a fierce resolve in my voice. “Not as long as we have each other.”

Her smile stretches wide, a radiant beacon, and she turns to me, her eyes glistening. “Then we’ll keep going—no matter what’s ahead.”

We stand there for a moment longer, wrapped in the embrace of a night that feels like pure magic, with its promise of new beginnings and uncharted paths. I reach for her hand, clasping it tightly, and together we take a deep breath, inhaling our destiny—the breath of newfound hope as we step into this next chapter side by side.

As the echoes of our laughter blend with the symphony of the night, I finally understand that life, like racing, is all about the journey—the friends who ride beside you and the relentless pursuit of living fully, unafraid.

A smile spreads across my face as we turn back toward the warmth of our friends, excitement charging through my veins for the future that awaits us, limitless and bright. The race may have concluded, but the adventures ahead are just fucking beginning.

THE END…