Page 21

NATALIA

I t had been more than a week.

More than a week since I last saw Tick Tock. More than a week of silence, of pacing around this house that used to feel like a home, of unanswered texts and voicemails, of staring at the front door until my eyes blurred.

More than a week since my heart stopped feeling steady in my chest.

At first, I thought it was just another run. Something long, something that required him to go ghost for a bit. He'd done it before but always came back to me, always made it worth the wait. But this time, something felt different.

Wrong.

The silence was too heavy. Too long. My father wasn't answering his phone and Aiyana hadn’t answered any of my calls either.

I sat on the edge of the couch, phone gripped tight in my hand, my thumb hovering over her contact. I tried again. The dial tone rang, once… twice… and then it clicked.

But it wasn’t her voice.

"Ain’t that a sweet surprise," came the deep, gravel-coated voice I hadn’t heard since the clubhouse.

Rancid.

My heart plummeted. "Where’s Aiyana?"

"Oh, she’s fine, sweetheart," he said slowly, as if every syllable was some kind of game he was playing with me. "But I do have somethin’ real important to tell you. Where are you at?"

I hesitated. Every cell in my body screamed not to answer. But then he said it. "It’s about Tick Tock."

I panicked. My mouth moved before I could stop it and I gave him the address.

The knock on the door came too quickly after that. Too heavy and menacing. When I opened the door, Rancid was standing there, a grin that didn’t meet his eyes plastered across his scarred face.

He let himself in without being asked, brushing past me into the house. A house that wasn’t his. I backed up, hands curling into fists at my sides.

"Where is he?" I asked, barely able to keep the tremble out of my voice.

Rancid turned to face me, and something in his eyes shifted. "That depends, baby. Where do you think he’d be after putting a bullet in your daddy’s head?"

My whole world tilted sideways.

"No," I breathed, shaking my head. "No, that’s not true. You’re lying."

"Ain’t no lie, baby," he said, his voice turning cold as he mocked me. "I saw the blood myself. Barrel dropped like a bag of bricks. Tick Tock made sure of it. Shot him right between the eyes."

I stumbled back, my legs hitting the arm of the couch. I didn’t fall, but I felt like I had. Like the floor was yanked out from under me.

"Where is he?" I asked again, voice cracked and broken.

"That motherfucker ran. He’s gone. Ain’t comin’ back for you. But lucky for you…" he took a slow step toward me, his gaze crawling over me like burning oil, "you got me now."

"I’m not going anywhere with you," I whispered, shaking.

He grabbed my arm. "You don’t got a choice, sweetheart. There ain’t no one left to protect you now. And if you think you can hide from me, you got another thing comin’."

"Let me go!" I shrieked, yanking my arm back.

He didn’t, instead his other hand came up fast and slapped me across the face. The sting was instant, blinding, stars flashing in my vision. I gasped, stumbling, but he didn’t give me time to recover. He shoved me back into the couch and climbed over me, hand tangling in my hair.

"You think I don't know the nasty things you let him do to you, " he snarled.

I screamed, turning and trying to scramble off the couch. His hands were on me, dragging me back.

"You’re mine now," he snarled, breath hot and vile. "I always knew you’d be sweet."

His hand was at my throat. The other pushing up my shirt. I fought. Clawed. Kicked. And then I screamed.

I searched for something. Anything. And then my fingers wrapped around the heavy ceramic ashtray on the side table. I didn’t think. I just swung.

It cracked against the side of his skull with a sickening thud.

He grunted, body stumbling back, dazed. And as I watched him, in horror, as blood began to seep from his head.

I didn’t wait. I didn't want to know what the fuck I'd just done. I ran.

I didn’t stop to grab my phone or money, or anything. I didn't have anything. The only things I did have, were now dead. I didn’t stop to think. Barefoot, my heart pounding, I shoved the door open and ran. Down the steps, down the street, lungs burning, feet scraping raw against the pavement. I ran like the devil himself was chasing me, and maybe he was.

I didn’t stop until I saw headlights. I didn’t stop until I collapsed in front of a passing car, waving my arms, screaming for help.

Tick Tock was gone. My father was dead. And I was left alone.

My world had suddenly changed for the worse. Everything I feared had come true, and I had no idea how I was going to survive this.