Chapter 1

"She ran through the forest, sneaking between the branches of the trees that tore her skin, but she did not stop. She moved her legs despite the pain and discomfort, despite the blood that fell from her body. She looked back looking for her hunter, but his vision was so blurred that he could do nothing but keep running begging for mercy. He would kill her, cut her to pieces, slit her jugular and drink her blood like the sweetest drink. Her destiny was marked and even if she insisted on to get away from him, she couldn't. He would destroy her in her entirety, her mind, her soul, her physique, all of her would be consumed by his enemy. She didn't want to accept it but the blood was already spilled on her hands. His blood. His life. Everything would end in the worst way. Running away would not serve him and so he would end up letting his enemy rip out his organs while he was alive,showing the moon that blood also shines..."

“Aria!

My sister's scream makes me jump on the sofa where she was sitting. I take off my headphones turning off the music and look at my little sister. She smiles at me very amused for having scared me, she laughs and moves her hand indicating that I follow her.

"I'm ready, shall we go?"

— Was it necessary to yell like that? I almost had a heart attack," she claimed as I close my book and roll up the headphones to leave everything on the table.

— You were very focused on your book, you know I can't miss the opportunity to make your day bitter — he smiles at me, tilting his head.

I ignore her and walk past her.

"Mom, we're leaving!" I warn and immediately I hear mom's footsteps approaching. She comes out of the kitchen with her flowery apron on, she smiles at us and gives us both a hug before kissing our foreheads.

— Send my regards to your grandparents — he says kindly, they don't get along but education is always present —. Come back before dark.

"Sure, mommy." Angie hugs her even tighter when I break free. I'm not one for hugs and affection, that's from my sister.

Gina, my sister's dog, hops happily on the floor. Angie greets her and says goodbye to her as if they weren't going to see each other for years when it will only be a couple of hours. Angie is very dramatic with Gina, treating her like she's her baby. She doesn't bother me at all, she's a lovely little dog.

Mom accompanies us to the door, I notice her strange, as if she doesn't like something even though she doesn't stop smiling at us.

"Is something wrong?" I ask quietly so Angie won't hear me, leaving my hand on her arm.

— No, I know, don't you feel a feeling like when you're forgetting something but you can't remember what?

— Yes, it has happened to me. It's as if you know something is happening or is going to happen and you can't understand that — I'm not telling her that I've been feeling that feeling for days, like a bad feeling, but it's contradictory that nothing bad is happening, not to us, not even on the news. It's just the feeling that warns "get ready." Only everything is fine.

"They must be my delusions," he shakes his head and smiles at me. Angie kisses mom's cheek and leaves the house, I want to follow her so we can leave now but mom holds my arm and makes me look at her -. Take care of yourselves, daughter. Take care of your sister.

I nod without being able to answer anything, I kiss her cheek to calm her down and I leave the house with worry and bad energy in my body. I yell at Angie not to go without me and her laughter is heard around the block, she never waits for me. She is a very energetic and euphoric girl. She can never stay still. The opposite to me. They could confuse me with the cushions on the chair because of how little I move.

On the way to our grandparents' house, she talked so much that the time came when I stopped listening to her. I couldn't get rid of the bad energy I felt and began to look everywhere looking for glances at me. But no one was watching me. Even so, I did not stop feeling observed until I got to my grandparents' house.

It was Sunday and the family tradition is to have lunch on that day every week. Almost the whole family was there, the only ones missing were my uncles, Sonia and Marcus, who were on their honeymoon for their anniversary, and left their children with my grandparents. We have a large family, four uncles, cousins ​​everywhere, distant relatives. That's something I love, it makes me feel like I'm part of a team, even though I don't get along with some and I'm too reserved like being the light of the family, that's Angie, that's the Graham's little white lamb.

I have always felt like the black sheep, like the one that does not belong to the flock. It is something that nobody knows, I have never confessed it to anyone and it will continue to be so. Sometimes I feel that even the members of the family avoid me and not because it is something they do on purpose, but because it was something natural that they did. Of the cousins, I was the last one mentioned, the last one the little ones invited to play, the last one the uncles offered gifts to. Maybe it was because I didn't make an effort to do anything either, I was the cousin who sat on the sofa and watched the others have fun, my conversations with the others weren't out of the ordinary. As I said, the spotlight was Angie, everyone loved her, everyone contacted her, everyone adored her and that didn't bother me at all, I'm the person who adores her the most.

But despite feeling outside, I didn't feel outside the family, but the failure of it. I was the problem, I was sure there was something wrong with me, I didn't connect with them but it wasn't for themselves, but for me. I was the weird one.

We had finished lunch in Grandma's well-kept garden. My cousins, my sister and I separated a bit to sit on the grass and talk.

We were chatting about how professional Jack, our cousin and the one I got along with best, had become in basketball. I saw that Uncle Sawyer's friends had arrived, he usually organizes gambling, they all get together in my grandmother's backyard to play poker and not only have fun but also win money or whatever they bet.

I had never liked his friends, but this day I seemed to like them less. I didn't want to be judgmental, but they looked mean, intimidating. She had seen some of them looking over the house and family. I ignored everything and continued talking with my cousins, but the bad feeling was back.

The meeting had already been going on for over two hours, the betting had been restarted numerous times. Meanwhile, me and Jack play basketball. I tossed the ball into the hoop Grandma had bought for us. I made a point and celebrated with my sister, Angie, and my cousin Mack.

She was losing like the best but still celebrated every point she made despite having half of what Jack had.

— I don't know why they celebrate so much, I'm the one who's going to win — he says, chipping the ball and throwing it into the hoop, making a clean shot. She was beginning to hate him.

"You can win but we will continue to support Aria's effort," my cousin supports me. Even if it sucks.

"You were so good at helping me," I murmur and they laugh.

"He's right, A, it seems that every time you play you don't learn what Jack teaches you, but you also forget everything before," my sister says.

I wasn't good at sports, I hated it, but I knew that if I put my mind to it, I could be better.

I was about to take the ball from Jack when we heard a loud noise that startled us. We looked at my uncle's group, including Grandpa Golden, they had also heard it. They got up from their seats. Grandma and Aunt Chloe approached the hallway that surrounds the house reaching the front door of the house. They got scared and backed off.

“Sawyer!” my grandmother yells. Armed men began to enter everywhere, invading my grandparents' house.

Immediately, I heard gunshots that stunned my ears. I crouched down and watched as my cousin and sister did the same. Uncle Sawyer and his friends also drew weapons. What the hell was going on? 

My heart was pounding, scared and confused by what was happening so quickly. But I didn't get paralyzed, I quickly grabbed the hand of my cousin, who was closest to me, and dragged her behind our grandparents' dog's little barn. Angie followed us on all fours.

Everything had become out of control in minutes, I was witnessing something that I never thought I saw in my life: a shooting.

I saw Jack hiding behind some chairs. But some guys found him and yelled that they had one.

"No!" Mack yells desperately. He acted quickly covering his mouth.

Angie feels for my arm and points to Grandma at the kitchen door, waving us to go with her. I saw that no one was near us and an escape window opened for us. I pushed the two of them to run ahead of me.

I was looking around attentively, not letting the terrifying emotions take me. As we ran I saw how my uncle's friends were wounded by the bullets, and the other thugs by the bullets that my uncle fired. This was turning into a massacre. There was blood, the smell of gunpowder, screams. In my life I had believed that something like this could be seen before my eyes outside of the movies or books that I used to frequent. But nothing that I looked at or read in them was how I was living it. I was too scared for my family and just wanted to take care of all of them.

I collided with the body of both. I looked at them, they had completely stopped. In front of them was a man with a black beard, he was robust and his face was not friendly at all. He was pointing a gun at us and he had an evil smile on his lips, a smile that chilled me.

"Here they are!" she yells causing her colleagues to try to get closer to us. We were lost, he was going to kill us or who knows what, nothing good seemed to come out of those men.

The subject began to approach slowly, we backed away. Four other guys came with him to surround us.

We're going to die. I got in for me, of course I did, but having my cousin and sister in front of me, at such an early age, terrified me even more.

“Get down!” a thick, masculine voice yells from behind us. I turned quickly and saw a gang of men armed to the teeth, guns, knives, ski masks. I no longer knew who were the good guys and who were the bad guys. Who was with my uncle and who was not.

But they didn't seem to be on either side. So I trusted blindly and with a jerk, I lowered the girls to the ground. I covered the girls and listening to their screams mixed with pleas and cries I began to hear loud infernal roars above our heads where hundreds of bullets were distributed from both sides. We were no longer targeted by either side, because both sides wanted to kill the other.

I encouraged them to crawl across the grass to get out of there, until we were a little away from the shooting. Jake was close, he looks at us scared. If we stopped now he would kill us with a bullet, so he denied both of them wanting to get up and look for their uncles and grandparents.

A hand grabbed my arm and I spun around in fright. He was a boy in his twenties, he had hair as dark as night and a profiled face as if God had made it with his own hands. What caught my attention the most were the golden eyes he had. He was shooting how he could while he was helping me up off the ground, he wasn't looking at me and I couldn't look at him because of the action of the moment.

"Run." She protected us until we got to the house, Jake joining us.

We got pushed in by that guy and he closed the door, staying on the outside, shooting anyone who wanted to come near the door.

We meet the grandmother. She had blood on her body and she was terrified. She didn't let us tell her anything because she was already pushing us around the house until we joined Aunt Chloe and the sleeping children.

- We will escape from here. Listen to me, you will run to the gate without looking back, regardless of the shots you hear," he explains.

"What's going on?" Jake wanted to know. This is something I also wanted to know.

- I'll explain later.

The aunt carried her 6-year-old daughter and gave Jake her 3-year-old son. They both cried scared. Grandma rummaged through her underwear drawer and pulled out a gun. Why do you have a gun there? I understood less and less and everything happened so fast that my head couldn't connect half a neuron to reason.

We ran to the front door when we heard that they had already entered through the back door. We hurried and left the house. There were some bad people outside but they were fighting hand to hand with some of the guy's friends and the last ones I guess. They gave us the step to leave the house and go through the entrance without obstacles.

Until I heard a scream, I recognized my sister's voice. I turned and came to a complete stop at the sight of her struggling with a man. I ran to her, ignoring my grandmother's scream for me not to come back, that she did. But she couldn't leave my sister.

I jumped on the man's back and hit him in the back of the head with my elbow, he released Angie and she fell to the ground. I let go of him but it was too late to run away. He points his gun at us.

I looked back, our family was getting into a black car and Grandma was coming back for us. She started shooting at the man, we both screamed at the blood that sprayed us. His body fell on our feet, it was very heavy so we couldn't get it off of us. Angie had started to cry from how desperate she was. We were trapped and we couldn't move the muscles of the subject that now lay dead in our legs.

The men began to approach us in our search. Some men surrounded us, blocking the way for the others. A boy turned and lifted the heavy man from us. He was a boy with brown hair, brown eyes. I would have liked to see him more but he picked us up off the ground and helped us run to my grandmother.

The car in which my cousins ​​and the aunt got in had left and another one of the same color arrived. Grandma put us inside. In the front seats were two men I didn't know and can't even question because the car sped away and we were out of my grandmother's neighborhood in no time.

"What's happening!?" I asked my upset grandmother.

She turned around, put her hand on both cheeks, looked at us sadly but with a smile.

"You have to listen to me." He searched for something in his coat and took it out, hiding it in his hand. She opened mine and left it there. I recognized a USB by touch—you have to protect this, no one but you can see what's inside, do you hear me?

- What are you talking about?

— Now I don't have time to explain to you, the day came that I didn't think would come.

The car stopped on the shoulder of the road. We were in the middle of nowhere, all around us was grass and trees.

— Someday they will understand, now they have to continue alone, they will take them out of the city and take them with someone who will guide them to Beckam. This—he points to my hand that was now hiding the USB—is very important girls, this is yours, your father's and no one but you can see what it contains. Do you understand?

We both nodded but I'm sure Angie was just as confused as I was. Is this from my father? But if he died years ago.

Grandma kissed both of their foreheads and gets out of the car.

"Where are you going?" Was he going to leave us alone at that moment? Was she crazy?

— I have to go back to his grandfather and uncle, I have to see that they are okay. Take care of yourselves, daughters, and trust no one. Remember, you can only trust family... And don't go to their house, you will harm your mother.

He closes the door and the car moves forward without letting us do anything.

"No, stop, we can't leave her there," Angie says trying to stop the men. I looked in the rearview mirror at Grandma, massaging her forehead in frustration. Aria, tell them to stop.

I didn't understand what was going on and I was in such a shock, I just wanted to go home, curl up under my covers and wish this was just a dream. But if Angie kept smacking the men she would cause an accident and we didn't need that to happen to us.

Trust what the grandmother trusted, if she said that those men would take care of us that would be... Right?

— Enough, you heard the grandmother, they will protect us. Right? — I asked them. They both nodded. Who are you, by the way? I wanted to know. We didn't even know their names.

— They don't have to know, we'll take them with the messenger.

- And who is that?

— His nickname says it, girl.

Girl? She was already of legal age, literally, she had turned eighteen on Sunday of last week.

I looked at Angie, she was just as confused as me, fiddling with her long fingers as she stared out the window in fright. I took her hand and she looked at me.

"I don't understand anything," he whispers.

— Me neither, but we'll be fine and we'll find the answer to what's happening.

She rested her head on my shoulder and I leaned into her.

- You promise?

- I promise. I will take care of you.

In the end my bad feeling was true.

I was getting impatient. We had been at the service station for more than two hours where, supposedly, bald and gray-haired, they were going to deliver us to the courier. Angie and I gave the men names, since they didn't want to tell us anything about them, so we called them by their hair color, or their no hair (the one driving was bald).

They didn't let us get out of the car, not even lower the glass. They were outside watching.

"I'm bored," Angie says.

- And me.

I have A IDEA. I looked at Angie mischievously and she smiled. I reached over to the radio and turned it on. They said not to touch anything, but this is too boring. Music started playing and I changed the tune until I found a good one.

- I like that.

I left the channel you liked. It wasn't much, but at least there was a little more noise and she could entertain her until they figured out what the hell they were going to do with us.

We stayed another 30 minutes, doing nothing. I remembered what I had kept in the pocket of my shorts. I took out the USB and looked at it.

"What do you think it has inside?" I asked almost to myself.

- I do not know. She said it was from dad.

I didn't used to ask about him. He had passed away years ago, the reason was not clear. I wasn't very interested in knowing the reason for his death, he had left and now, I didn't want to delve into the subject. Instead, Angie was always told about him. Ashton Graham, our father, had died when she was eleven, they didn't even have time and Angie was very intrigued by him. That is why she always asked her grandparents to tell her.

— Yes, photos?

— It must be very important, you saw how Grandma was — she takes the USB from my hands and watches it —. And if it's audio? We could try it there,” he points to the stereo.

— No, we will do it at home.

I heard noises outside. Motorcycles arrived, there were more than fifteen. I grabbed the USB and put it back in my shorts.

- And now that? Angie says scared again.

They didn't seem to be the bad guys. Some got off the motorcycles and approached the bald and gray-haired man. The guy who saved us from being shot the first time talked to them, and the guy who helped us get to the car with Grandma was next to him. They looked at the car, the windows were dark so they didn't ask to see us, but we could see everything.

"Who are they?" Angie asks me in a whisper as if they can hear us, which I don't think.

- I do not know.

The golden-eyed one approached the car, he was attractive, he couldn't deny it, he had a dark and intimidating aura. He was wearing a zip-up jacket with jeans and boots. He opened the driver's door and watched us.

- They are fine?

I shared a look with my sister. Is it a joke?

- Of course not. We just saw a shooting in my grandparents' garden and it's not something I usually see every day,” I said sarcastically. He smirked, marking the corner of her lips.

— I meant physically, are they injured?

- No.

He leaves where before, without telling us anything else.

"I'm tired" I said and went downstairs. I ignored my sister's call. Hey! Can you tell us what the hell we're doing here? Or who the hell are you? Or what is happening?

Everyone looks at me and instead of feeling intimidated by so many stares on me, the situation just made me angry and that no one said anything to me.

"Get in the car, girl," the attractive one with golden eyes orders me.

I'm not a girl!

"First answer me," I said firmly, there could be more than thirty men, but shit was worth it, I wanted explanations.

— Don't make it more complicated, get in the car.

I looked at him defiantly and he at me.

— Please, —speaks a blonde with a blue cap— we don't know much, we just have to deliver them to the messenger and they will be someone else's problem.

Cars began to arrive at full speed. They were the guys who were at my grandfather's, the bad guys. I couldn't tell who were the good guys and who were the bad guys, but from how tense they all got and how quickly they reached for their weapons, I guessed it.

"Car, now!" the blue-eyed one yells at me.

This time I listened to him. I got into the car, Angie looked at me scared.

"Again?" he grumbles.

The shooting started again. They all ran to hide from the first thing they found. Some hid behind the car we were in. Angie and I duck our heads. She was looking at me waiting for me to do something and her lip began to tremble again with fear.

Golden Eyes got into the car, after yelling at his colleagues to get out of the way.

"Get down," he tells us. We obey him, even though we already were.

He started the car and drove a few blocks, from time to time he shot out the window, to my understanding, we were being followed.

"What the hell is going on with all of you?!" I yelled at him hysterically. He just ignored me.

"Pretty girl, come on over."

I looked at Angie, neither of them understood. He turns and looks at me.

- You tell me-. Don't get me wrong, honey, you're prettier — she tells my sister. She smiles shyly and blushes, "but now I need your sister." She looks at me again, connecting her dark golden eyes with mine. The annoying sister, I guess.

And what's wrong with this idiot?

I move into the passenger seat, hitting my head on the roof, kicking his arm and catching my hair on the seat. Quite a mess, but I made it.

"Name?" he asks me when I'm done settling in. He is very attentive looking through all the mirrors seeing if they follow us or not.

"Will you tell me yours if I tell you?" I reproach someone had to tell me his name and seeing that he was from the bald and gray-haired team, I doubted he would tell me. It's a bad time for this nonsense, I know, but the words came out before I stopped them in my mouth.

— Frankenstein — he tells me and smiles sarcastically. He made it clear to me that this is not his name.

— Cleopatra — if he plays, so do I.

"Nice to meet you." He places his gun on his lap and extends his hand to me. I took it and we both feigned kindness with an overly fake smile. Her hand was large, scratchy, and cold. Listen to me—she looks in the rearview mirror, grabs her gun and lowers the glass to shoot back. I got scared when I heard the noise she made— Do you know how to drive?

- Yes.

It was true. Mom had been teaching me all summer. Even though she didn't have my license yet.

He nods and parks in front of a store. He changes the cartridge in his gun and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut.

"Get out of here," he tells us through the window.

I realized that I had to change sides. I sat where he was a few seconds ago hitting my head on the roof and my ankle on the gear stick.

"What will you do, Frankenstein?" I wanted to know.

"They'll come for you, so I'll give you time to escape." She drives out of town. She fixes the glove box.

I opened it and saw some papers and a disposable phone.

— There is only one number, the messenger, when you think they are safe, call him.

- And if he doesn't answer? I remind you that I have been waiting for it for hours.

He huffs and looks for something at my door. He pulls out a black pen, pops the cap off with his mouth, and roughly grabs my arm, writing a phone number on my skin. When she's done, she removes the cover from her mouth to speak clearly.

— Call here, but only when you have exhausted the phone from calling the other one, okay?

"Is that you?" I pointed to the number with my chin. He smiles and looks towards the street.

— It's time — he taps on the roof of the car and takes the safety off his gun. 

I put on my seatbelt and looked in the rearview mirror, several cars were starting to approach, I sighed. How I wished I was in my bed now.

I stepped on the accelerator and turned into the first street on the right. Frankenstein stood in the middle of the street shooting at advancing cars.

Angie sits in the passenger seat and puts on a seatbelt. That she has a smile on her face upset me, I thought she was crying.

"Cleopatra?" She looks at me funny and laughs.

I drove as he told me, away from town, as the grandmother had also told us, ignoring my sister.

What am I supposed to do now? They were going to take us with the messenger, but now we will have to do it alone. We don't even know who it is!

She was very nervous and I know Angie was too, she kept fiddling with her hands and making and undoing knots in her hair.

When I saw that no car was following us, I parked in a supermarket.

- Pass me the phone.

Angie reached for it in the glove compartment and handed it to me. I searched in contacts and indeed there was only one, I marked him. She did not answer. I tried again. I dialed five times but all I got on the other end was the beep.

"He doesn't answer," I told Angie.

- What will we do?

I took my phone out of my pocket and searched my contacts for Grandma.

— Hey, don't you think that for something they gave us a disposable phone?

— I don't give a damn what they want.

I handed her the disposable phone and while I dialed our grandmother. I hope she answers.

"Hello?" I look at Angie, she had tried to call once more and she answered. Ah, ehh—she looks at me—they told us to call you—she puts the phone between the two of us so that I can also listen.

"I suppose, the package," he says almost to himself. It's a manly voice, low and lazy. Where are they?

— In the parking lot of a supermarket. MarketAll.

— I'm close, wait for me there — he hangs up.

It was already night and it was cold outside. So we stayed in the car. The supermarket was already closed and there was no car in sight. On the opposite sidewalk, the stores were also closed, the only thing that worked was the traffic light that changed color.

I looked at the bracelet that Grandma had given Angie and me for Angie's birthday, it was always like that, it doesn't matter if the birthday was one of them, the other always received a gift too. This was a silver bracelet with a heart, they were the same and we loved that. Such a little thing makes me feel close to my sister always.

"What if it's also bad?" Angie asks me, worried.

— I don't think so, Grandma wouldn't send us with someone like that.

— It's been hours since we haven't seen mom, she must be worried.

We'll call her when we're sure.

He nods and leans against the window.

Two cars passed by on the street, they were similar to those that came in a hurry at the gas station. I felt for my sister's arm and pointed to the cars that stopped one street ahead.

- Did they see us?

- I do not know.

They began to back away with speed.

- Yes, they saw us.

I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. One of them stuck his torso out the passenger window. A bullet hit our car. We both scream. Angie lowered her head from him and I heard her cry.

Several shots were felt in our car. One smashed the rear glass, I crouched down just enough to keep looking forward and not hit anything. Turn one corner and then another. They were still following us. What do they want from us?!

I lost control of the car when one of the rear tires was punctured. The car slipped on the asphalt and it was impossible for me to continue. I braked completely.

"We have to run!" I told Angie as I took off my seatbelt. She looked at me terrified but said nothing.

We got out of the car and turned into the alley that was right in front of us. Those in the car also got out and others followed them down the street. We ran a few blocks. We are not athletes, not in the slightest. 

"Wait!" Angie stopped and leaned over to put her hands on her knees to catch her breath. I did the same as her — I can't take it anymore.