The rich, enticing aroma of breakfast slices through the haze of my dreams, pulling me abruptly from slumber. As I blink awake, reality crashes in: I’m back in my childhood bedroom at my mother’s, the familiar walls closing in like a cage. With a groan, I heave myself out of bed, my body protesting as I stretch, each crack and creak echoing through the silence. My gaze drifts to my bag, barely filled with the remnants of my life—clothes that likely carry the scent of neglect. I rummage through my old dresser, fingers diving deep into forgotten memories, finally unearthing a pair of sweatpants and a faded Nirvana T-shirt. I throw the shirt over my shoulders, feeling the fabric cling to me like a ghost from the past. My hair falls in wild strands around my neck as I twist it into a haphazard bun, giving up on perfection for the promise of comfort. Grabbing a laundry basket heavy with the weight of yesterday, I let the bedroom door fall shut behind me with a soft thud, then navigate t
I stare at my phone for a moment longer, then shove it into my pocket, feeling the weight of its secrets press against me. Turning to my mother, I force a smile, my heart racing beneath my calm facade. “Wish me luck!” I say, the words tumbling out with a mix of hope and desperation.Her smile is warm but tinged with an edge of worry as she moves in for a hug. “Good luck today!” she says, her voice steady but laced with unspoken fears.I pull away, gripping my purse tightly in one hand, my other hovering over the door handle like it’s a lifeline. As I step outside, I lean back in, my smile widening despite the knots in my stomach. “I’ll call you if I need a ride.”She nods, her eyes lingering on me as I close the door, watching until I see her car disappear from the lot. The moment the sound of her engine fades, I exhale, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The familiar swish of my scrubs fills the silence as I stride toward the entrance of the sterile hospital, the s
I let myself slip off the bed, my feet hitting the cool hardwood floor with a sharp thud that echoed in the silence. Each step toward the bathroom felt like a descent into another world, a pattern I knew too well. The moment I flicked on the light, it flooded the room, blinding me for an instant, but the harshness only magnified the chaos swirling inside.My body glistened under the light, droplets of sweat rolling off my shoulders and pooling against my skin, tracing an agonizing path toward my abdomen. There, the wound—now healed but marked by a scar—whispered tales of my encounter with Reaper. I rubbed my eyes, trying to dispel the haze of exhaustion, and cranked the cold water tap, splattering my face in a futile attempt to wash away the remnants of the night.“Come back to bed.” The voice, sultry and enticing, sliced through the darkness. A shadow emerged, morphing into Adriana as she stepped closer, her presence igniting a tumult of conflicting emotions within me. Her lips graze
I exhale sharply, pushing the tension from my chest as I stride toward the nurses' station. I settle into my seat, fingers tightening around the folder of patient charts, the weight of responsibility heavy in my grip. As I boot up the computer, the familiar hum of machinery fills the air, providing a false sense of normalcy. I dive into the reports for their release and daily charts, letting the rhythm of typing ground me until a voice pulls me abruptly from my focus.To my left stands a young woman, strikingly pretty with dark hair twisted into a clip, her brown eyes darting around the bustling emergency room. She wears mauve scrubs—the unmistakable uniform of the Neonatal department—an island of color amid the sea of blue that surrounds me. Her presence feels out of place, like a whisper intruding on a storm.She’s speaking animatedly with a new nurse who just clocked in—one I barely noticed while I was preparing to inject Reaper with air into his IV. The Neonatal nurse's laughter ri
The wind howled, cold and furious, as it whipped across my cheeks with a relentless speed. I flung my purse onto the seat of my old, beat-up 2005 Camry and shoved the keys into the ignition with such force that I feared they might snap off in the keyhole. Anger boiled inside me at the thought of Barbra getting the promotion instead of me. I had worked my ass off for months, sacrificing my free time and dedicating myself to the patients who came in every night just to prove to Marco that I was ready. And yet, here I was, watching someone else take the opportunity I deserved. Screw this...I cranked the engine, and it barely started, the battery in desperate need of replacement—something I couldn't afford. As usual, I could barely scrape together enough for gas for this piece of junk, and now I was facing the prospect of a new battery too.Interning never pays well, but what was I expecting? A job? I rolled my eyes as I clicked on the left turn signal, steering toward my rundown apartm
Panic engulfs me as I sprint across the rickety wooden bridge, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a war drum. The tires of my car screech to a halt, and every rational thought evaporates—there's a man sprawled near the water's edge, and he’s fighting for his life. My breath comes in jagged gasps as dread coils tightly in my stomach, twisting like a vise.As I close the distance, the sight plunges a knife into my gut—his torso is a canvas of despair, deep, seeping wounds marring his skin, tattoos swirling like tortured souls. A gaping hole in his abdomen spills crimson onto the grass, pooling around him; it paints a horrific picture that turns my stomach.“Sir?” I shout, my voice cracking, strained with fear and urgency, but deep down, I know he can’t hear me. My entire universe condenses to the rhythm of his labored breathing—slow, ragged, each gasp a desperate plea for survival that resonates deeper than my frantic heartbeat. I press my trembling fingers against his neck, pray
I slammed the accelerator, tearing out of the park where I had found the stranger. He lay twisted in the back seat, a wound gushing blood that seeped into my upholstery like a sin I couldn’t wash away.What am I doing?My thoughts screamed at me to ditch him, but my heart betrayed me, urging me to save him. The conflict roiled inside me, a tempest of fear and desperation. I glanced in the rearview mirror—nothing but empty road. The car that had once pursued us was just a fading memory, vanishing around the bend as I peeled out of that hellish place.I took a shuddering breath and veered onto the main road, gravel crunching under tires that protested against my frantic escape. My heart thundered in my chest, a manic drumbeat that matched the chaos in my mind. Adrenaline surged through me as my hands trembled on the steering wheel, coated in red—a visceral testament to my choices, to the blood that now stained my scrubs.My breath came in jagged gasps, each inhale a reminder of the
My eyes slowly adjusted to the harsh light flooding the room, and panic gripped me as I scanned my surroundings—nothing looked familiar. Then I saw her. The woman sitting across from me, her fingers nervously twirling around a white coffee mug, felt like an enigma wrapped in mystery. Her tousled blond hair framed a face that was both beautiful and haunting, but it was her eyes—those mesmerizing blue pools—that drew me in. They widened with surprise, a flicker of something deeper swirling within as she noticed I was conscious.But it was the dried blood caked beneath her fingernails that sent a chill down my spine. What the hell happened?“Where am I?” I croaked out, my voice rough and foreign, struggling against the fog clouding my memory. Each word felt like it tore through the haze, but the images remained elusive, dancing just out of reach.She set her cup down with a deliberate calmness and leaned toward me, her body taut and coiled like a spring ready to snap. The golden tan
I exhale sharply, pushing the tension from my chest as I stride toward the nurses' station. I settle into my seat, fingers tightening around the folder of patient charts, the weight of responsibility heavy in my grip. As I boot up the computer, the familiar hum of machinery fills the air, providing a false sense of normalcy. I dive into the reports for their release and daily charts, letting the rhythm of typing ground me until a voice pulls me abruptly from my focus.To my left stands a young woman, strikingly pretty with dark hair twisted into a clip, her brown eyes darting around the bustling emergency room. She wears mauve scrubs—the unmistakable uniform of the Neonatal department—an island of color amid the sea of blue that surrounds me. Her presence feels out of place, like a whisper intruding on a storm.She’s speaking animatedly with a new nurse who just clocked in—one I barely noticed while I was preparing to inject Reaper with air into his IV. The Neonatal nurse's laughter ri
I let myself slip off the bed, my feet hitting the cool hardwood floor with a sharp thud that echoed in the silence. Each step toward the bathroom felt like a descent into another world, a pattern I knew too well. The moment I flicked on the light, it flooded the room, blinding me for an instant, but the harshness only magnified the chaos swirling inside.My body glistened under the light, droplets of sweat rolling off my shoulders and pooling against my skin, tracing an agonizing path toward my abdomen. There, the wound—now healed but marked by a scar—whispered tales of my encounter with Reaper. I rubbed my eyes, trying to dispel the haze of exhaustion, and cranked the cold water tap, splattering my face in a futile attempt to wash away the remnants of the night.“Come back to bed.” The voice, sultry and enticing, sliced through the darkness. A shadow emerged, morphing into Adriana as she stepped closer, her presence igniting a tumult of conflicting emotions within me. Her lips graze
I stare at my phone for a moment longer, then shove it into my pocket, feeling the weight of its secrets press against me. Turning to my mother, I force a smile, my heart racing beneath my calm facade. “Wish me luck!” I say, the words tumbling out with a mix of hope and desperation.Her smile is warm but tinged with an edge of worry as she moves in for a hug. “Good luck today!” she says, her voice steady but laced with unspoken fears.I pull away, gripping my purse tightly in one hand, my other hovering over the door handle like it’s a lifeline. As I step outside, I lean back in, my smile widening despite the knots in my stomach. “I’ll call you if I need a ride.”She nods, her eyes lingering on me as I close the door, watching until I see her car disappear from the lot. The moment the sound of her engine fades, I exhale, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The familiar swish of my scrubs fills the silence as I stride toward the entrance of the sterile hospital, the s
The rich, enticing aroma of breakfast slices through the haze of my dreams, pulling me abruptly from slumber. As I blink awake, reality crashes in: I’m back in my childhood bedroom at my mother’s, the familiar walls closing in like a cage. With a groan, I heave myself out of bed, my body protesting as I stretch, each crack and creak echoing through the silence. My gaze drifts to my bag, barely filled with the remnants of my life—clothes that likely carry the scent of neglect. I rummage through my old dresser, fingers diving deep into forgotten memories, finally unearthing a pair of sweatpants and a faded Nirvana T-shirt. I throw the shirt over my shoulders, feeling the fabric cling to me like a ghost from the past. My hair falls in wild strands around my neck as I twist it into a haphazard bun, giving up on perfection for the promise of comfort. Grabbing a laundry basket heavy with the weight of yesterday, I let the bedroom door fall shut behind me with a soft thud, then navigate t
Demetri and I rode back into Phoenix as the sun began to claw its way above the horizon, the cold air morphing into a warm embrace around us. As we entered the town, I felt an unsettling mixture of exhilaration and dread. I didn’t know the name of the apartment complex where Jake had stashed my belongings, but at that moment, it hardly mattered. All I had were my essentials: my wallet and my father’s photograph. Everything else was expendable; I could replace a phone, even find a new place to live. Demetri veered off Park View Highway and pulled into a weathered diner nestled between a Walmart and a tire shop, the neon sign flickering in the early morning light. He killed the engine and leaned back, his gaze locking onto me as I hastily gathered my hair into a tight ponytail, steeling myself for whatever lay ahead.“I’m starving. Aren’t you?” he asked, his voice gravelly and low, as he swung his leg over the bike and reached out for me with his left hand. I grasped it tentatively, all
I took the beer, allowing her to guide me into a shadowy corner beside the house. As we settled into the weathered chairs, her gaze locked onto mine, promising secrets and revelations that could either save me or seal my fate. Little did I know, a storm brewed beneath her calm exterior.I sank onto the sofa near a burning barrel, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows around us. She joined me, propping her feet on the log that sat between us, the heat from the fire mingling with the cool night air.“Adriana,” she said, her voice smooth yet electrifying as I raised the bottle to my lips.“Maya,” I replied, offering a slight smile as the icy beer coursed down my throat, invigorating yet oddly soothing.“So, Armando, huh?” she asked, a hint of curiosity lacing her tone.I nodded slowly, letting the beer warm slightly in my hand, the condensation pooling on my palm. “He’s something,” she mused, her laughter soft but edged with something darker. I remained silent, letting the quiet
The door slammed shut behind me, reverberating through the tense air of the room. I stood frozen in the center, my pulse thrumming as I faced the massive table that loomed before me. Ten chairs circled it—ten men, myself included—but not a single one was occupied.The four elders stood rigidly near the fireplace, their presence an unyielding weight that filled the room. They always claimed the head of the table, and challenging their authority was unthinkable. It was a mandate, etched in blood and tradition.Demetri, positioned just below the elders, held his ground like a fortress. His rules were law, and to defy him was to invite ruin.Across from me stood Marcus, a striking figure with piercing blue eyes and dark dreadlocks that framed his pale face like a crown of shadows. He was the president of the Lions Pact, the crew that ruled Flagstaff with an iron fist. Next to him, Elden leaned casually against the back of his chair. His buzz cut gleamed under the dim light, and his sharp
The roar of Armando’s motorcycle vibrated through my legs, a wild pulse that surged up my spine, igniting a thrill I couldn’t explain. His bike was louder, more powerful than Luna’s, and I clung to his waist, feeling the heat from the muffler blast against my right leg like a furnace on the cool night air. My hair whipped behind me in the wind as we tore down the deserted highway toward downtown Phoenix. The night cloaked us in darkness, an eerie silence hanging thick in the air. As we approached a red light at the heart of the city, near the Japanese Friendship Garden, a jolt of familiarity hit me. I used to roam that garden as a child, and the memory burst into mind like the twinkling blue lights that had adorned it during my teenage years. Suddenly, we jerked forward, turning onto North Street, only to be halted again, trapped by an endless parade of red lights that felt like some cruel game of fate. The chill seeped through my thin coat, my fingers growing numb against the relent
Armando held his head high, a veneer of triumph shrouding the turmoil beneath. My neck throbbed where he had gripped my collar, the remnants of his fingers lingering like an unwelcome brand. Since his friends had arrived, he seemed lost to me, consumed by their camaraderie. He had only cast a fleeting glance in my direction after he hurled that man into the fire, his gaze barely touching me as if I were nothing more than a shadow drifting through a sunlit memory.The Hornets’ leader stared at me with a predatory hunger, his dark brown eyes glimmering with desire, tracing my every move. It was as if my very presence was a trophy to be won. As I walked toward the cabin, where injured men lay on makeshift cots crafted from broken bed-frames and tattered sheets salvaged from the remains of the shed, I felt the weight of his gaze like a heavy shroud.Inside, a crew member from The Hornets was hastily gathering supplies and stuffing them into a bag. I crossed my arms, refusing to shrink away