Muse - Fighting Fate #1 (32 page)

BOOK: Muse - Fighting Fate #1
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Available May 28th!

 

Kaeli

 

I came home to raised voices.

My heart immediately went into panic mode, thumping a million miles per minute. Wearily, I stepped into the lounge room. Ken and Aaron were glaring at each other over the coffee table. They both spun on me as soon as I entered.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked.

Kens’ eyes narrowed on me. “She’s gone shopping.”

I exhaled with relief, turning to disappear before I regretted making myself known. Aaron spun back on his father. “I’m not going. Make Kaeli go! I’m sure they’d appreciate
her
a lot more anyway.”

I froze on the first step and looked back at them. Getting in the middle of their problems was the last thing I wanted to do. Aaron was oozing anger, looking between me and his father. Ken’s gaze turned from plain nasty to malicious.

I’d seen that look a few times before, and the aftermath was never good. I was petrified to the spot. “Do what?” I asked hesitantly.

Ken just continued staring at me, mulling over whether he wanted me to do this ‘thing’ or not. I was just about to ask again, when his lips curled up into a nasty grin. “Yes, I think you might be right, Aaron,” he said. “This could work in our favor.”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked again, this time a little more forceful. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. He’d begun bustling around near the lounge, arranging a bag of some sort.

“You’re going to go pick something up for me,” he said, not bothering to turn around.

“I have homework to do.”

“It can wait. This is more important.” He zipped up the bag, and walked over to the stairs to stand in front of me, shoving a piece of paper into my hand. “Here’s the address you’ll be going to. You’ll have to catch the four o five to First and West, then go the rest of the way on foot.”

“What? Why can’t I just drive?”

“You just can’t! Tell them Ken sent you – that Tom OD’d, and you’re his replacement.”

Alarm bells were ringing in my head. “Who OD’d? What are you talking about?”

“Just shut up and do as you’re told, you stupid bitch! If you fuck this up for me, I swear to God, you’ll regret it!” He thrust the bag at me, knocking me back a fraction.

This was crazy. “This doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to do it.”

Ken’s eyes flashed with murderous rage. “You’ll do it alright, you little bitch, because if you don’t, your mother will be the one to
pay for your mistake, and it’ll be a lot worse than what happened the other day!”

I felt the blood drain from my face.
Oh God.

As if reading my mind, he smirked.

I felt sick. Every part of me screamed that this was bad. I so badly wanted to say no, but the thought of Mom cowering next to the bed was still so fresh in my mind, I just couldn’t. I swallowed hard.

He shoved the bag hard against my chest. “Now get going or you’ll miss the bus!”

When I didn’t move, he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards the door. Once it was open, he thrust me out onto the porch and slammed it shut behind me.

I started to shake as I stood there. I didn’t know what to do. I knew Ken’s threats weren’t idle. He’d definitely follow through with it and Mom would pay the price, but my head was screaming at me, telling me if I did this, it would be the biggest mistake of my life.

Seeing no choice before me but doing what Ken wanted, I shakily checked I still had my phone on me and started down the street. As I walked, I kept reminding myself I was doing it for Mom, not Ken. Every time the anxiousness started to creep back in again, I placed a firm picture of Mom smiling on the screen of my mind to help me.

The bus pulled up to the stop almost the exact time I arrived. Trying to ignore the warning bells that were still ringing, I forced myself to step on and find a seat.

Twenty minutes later, I got off where Ken had instructed and called up the address using my phone’s GPS. When I saw where I needed to go, I frowned. What the hell?! It was like six blocks away. Why didn’t he just tell me to get off a few stops down?

Swearing under my breath, I tightened my grip on the bag’s handle and set off down the back street. The unease that had hit me back at the house still sat heavily in my gut. Something was seriously wrong about the whole thing. The fact that Aaron hadn’t wanted to come was a major bell ringer. I knew Ken would’ve offered him money to do it. He had to bribe the idiot to do everything - even take the freaking rubbish out. And then there was the whole thing about this Tom person OD-ing. I had no idea what the hell that was about, but any sentence that included the phrase OD’d, couldn’t be about anything good.

A bag. A delivery. A Tom that had OD’d. A person would have to be pretty stupid to think it had nothing to do with drugs. My breathing sped up. Could Ken be a drug dealer? He was definitely a lot of things that weren’t good, but a dealer? I wasn’t sure I could fit the image of him in that category, but what did I know of those underworld kind of things?

It just seemed too obvious to be anything else. I shook my head as I crossed the street and started down the next block. I wasn’t sure how I felt about my stepfather being a supposed drug dealer. I guessed no different to how it felt with him being a wife beater. He was a douche either way. God I hated him.

Looking at my phone, I turned down the next street, grumbling even more when I had to start navigating decaying piles of rubbish and what looked like dried up puddles of vomit. If he was thinking I’d ever do this for him again, he could forget it.

The image of my mom lying crumpled on her bedroom floor flashed at me like a neon sign, and my heart instantly sank. Realization came to me quickly. Ken knew my Achilles heel. Of course I’d do it again. He knew I had no other option.

Stupid, stinking, disgusting man!

I kicked a rock that was lying on the footpath, watching it sail through the air before it smacked into a metal rubbish bin with a loud clang. I looked around, hoping I hadn’t drawn too much attention to myself and, spotting a large
1425
stuck to the front of a house, found I was a lot closer to the house number than I realized.

I looked down at the piece of paper in my hand, checking for the number. It read
1431
. My anger quickly drained away, replaced by a fear I couldn’t control. My heart pounded, blood pumping in my ears as I stopped out the front of the house I assumed was the one I was looking for. There was no number, but seeing as it was wedged between 1429 and 1433, I had no doubt it was the right one.

It looked just like any other house in the street, but somehow I knew something was terribly wrong inside of it.

Noah

 

My blood pulsed in time with the thumping music playing through the stereo in the lounge room. I leaned back on the lounge and sucked in a hard drag of a joint, hoping it would help repress the urge to shove off the girl who’d climbed onto my lap. She took my non refusal as acceptance and straddled me, slowly rocking her hips, rubbing her crotch against my jeans clad one. If she hadn’t slept with every other guy in TJ’s gang, I might actually have found it a turn on.

I took another long draw on the joint and watched her with amusement. Her hands slipped under my shirt, gliding over my stomach and chest as she continued to squirm on my lap. When her fingers started manipulating the button on my fly, I snatched up her wrist with my hand, holding it away from the zipper with a firm grip.

She froze, her eyes snapping up to mine, fear and confusion flashing brilliantly in their depths. “Don’t,” I said darkly.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the music suddenly disappeared and the room fell quiet.

“Alright, party’s over. You girls need to get out. Now.” TJ’s death glare worked every time.

The girls quickly collected their discarded clothing off the floor, dressing as they left. I sat forward on the couch, squashing out the remains of the smoke in the ash tray and looked up at TJ. He met my gaze just as the door closed behind the girls. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Do we have any
E’s
bagged?”

Mac stood up, zipping up his fly as he went. “Two,” he said, heading for the kitchen to check.

TJ nodded then checked his watch. The dark glint in his eye told me he was majorly pissed. “Tom was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. That’s strike two.”

My eyebrow went up. “Again?” He’d only collected yesterday. It was unusual for him to come more than once or twice a week.

TJ glanced at me again. There was definitely concern on his face. “Just…be weary,” he said. We all knew what that meant: Be ready to fight.

I watched Vinnie give an uneasy look to TJ before disappearing into the kitchen with Mac.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock sounded on the front door. No one used the front door. Ever. We all looked at each other in alarm before pushing to our feet and checking our guns.

Kaeli

 

My mouth suddenly felt like a desert, and my palms grew sweaty. Shaking, I stepped up to the door and knocked. A long minute later the door peeled open and I was faced with what could only be described as my worst nightmare. It left no doubt in my mind that there were drugs involved.

“What the fuck do you want?!”

I stared, wondering if it was actually possible to die of fright. The man who stood glaring at me had shoulder length hair that looked like it had never been washed, with small, beady eyes and horribly discolored teeth. He looked to be around his mid-twenties, and his face was covered in acne scars. He wore no shirt – only faded blue jeans that hung low on his hips, and although he was obviously very fit, it wasn’t an attractive sight. Every inch of his torso was inked with vivid and vulgar tattoos.

I tried to remember what Ken had told me to say. “Um…Ken sent me?” I said, my voice high and squeaky. “He said to tell you Tom-”

Before I could finish what I’d been instructed to say, I was grabbed violently and yanked inside the house. The acne man slammed the door behind me then dragged me towards the back of the house. I tried to scream, but he somehow managed to slap his hand over my mouth before any sound came out. I instantly went into a state of panic. I didn’t think my heart had ever beat so fast in all my life.

With acne man’s hand clenched painfully around my upper arm, he yanked me down the hall and into another room, shoving me to a stop just inside the door, and pushing me against the wall. I was sure I was about to go into full hyperventilation I was breathing so quick, but then I suddenly found myself surrounded by five more terrifying figures - one who was aiming a very scary looking gun right at my head, and my breath stopped altogether.

The gun man looked a little older than acne man - maybe late twenties, and didn’t have anywhere near as many tattoos, but the thin jagged scar that ran across one cheek, from his temple to his chin, coupled with his number one shaved head, was enough to scare the crap out of me.

The look he gave me was enough to make me want to vomit. “Who the fuck are you?!” he growled.

I was so worried I was going to be sick, I didn’t realize tears had started escaping. I honestly thought I was going to pee myself. “Ken sent me,” I said in a weak voice. “He said to tell you that Tom OD’d, and that I was his replacement.”

His jaw clenched as he glared at me. He nodded to acne man. “Search her.”

Acne man instantly grabbed Ken’s bag, tossing it to one of the other guys, then pushed me harder against the wall, his hands groping over every inch of my clothing, pulling out my phone and purse and tossing them as well. Then he continued his search under my clothes, his hands roaming over my skin, and under my bra, making me want to scream. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not whimper too loudly.

His hands disappeared, and I heard his voice beside my ear. “She’s clean.
Very
clean. I would very much like to make her a little dirty.”

I shuddered with repulsion, trying hard not to look back at his vulgar grin. Instead, I placed the bravest expression I could conjure on my face, and stared at the gun man.

Without taking his eyes, or his gun, off me, he called to one of the other men. “Mitch. What are we looking at?”

The guy who’d caught the bag – Mitch – looked up at me before he answered. He had a shaved head just like the gun man, and eyes that were a strange yellowy, brown color. Even though he wore a shirt, it looked like he was inked almost as much as acne man. The swirling patterns ran the entire length of both his arms, and I could see one that snaked down the side of his neck, disappearing under the collar of his shirt. He also had a piercing in his eyebrow – a silver bar that moved every time he frowned, which seemed to be a lot as he gazed at me.

“It’s definitely Ken’s bag,” he said. “Looks as though he wants more than the usual five bags today though.”

Gun man glowered at me for a few more minutes, then lowered his gun. “Either Ken doesn’t give a shit about you, or you’re really fucking stupid,” he mumbled before turning to a short, stocky guy with dirty blonde hair. “Davo, I want you to go and
explain
to Ken how much I fucking hate surprises.”

With wide eyes, I watched as Davo took a gun out from under his shirt, checked the cartridge then tucked it back securely in his pants, before striding out the door.

Acne man still had me virtually pinned against the wall. I could feel his repulsive breath on my cheek as his hand brushed against my boob. “TJ’s gonna be a while, so I think you and I should go and have some fun while we wait…”

His hand reached towards my face, and I went to jerk away from him, but an arm reached between us, shoving against acne man’s chest. He stumbled away from me, his head snapping up in fury.

The guy with the shaved head – Mitch, stood glaring at him. “It’s my turn Pock,” he said in a low, menacing voice.

Acne man – Pock, puffed his chest out, rising up to his full height, which was still a couple inches short of Mitch’s. “Get fucked it is! You’re never interested in the fresh meat! You can’t just start now because some hot piece of ass comes along!”

Mitch wedged himself between me and Pock, pushing me back in the process. “I can, and I am,” he said dangerously. “It’s my turn, and you know it.”

They glared at each other in silence. The tension coming off them was colossal. Although I couldn’t see Mitch’s face, I could tell by the look on
the gun man’s - TJ’s - face, that he must’ve looked frightening. He was obviously not someone to be messed with. It was as though he was holding his breath to see who was going to come off best.

Eventually, Pock sneered, mumbling some obscenities under his breath as he stormed out of the room.

TJ laughed loudly, making me jump. “Well, that was interesting! Have fun man,” he said, slapping Mitch playfully on his back.

Mitch turned to me, his face still molded into a scowl. “Come on,” he grumbled, grabbing hold of my upper arm and pulling me towards a set of stairs.

I instantly freaked, pulling away from him. “No!”

He pulled harder, his jaw clenching angrily, and I started to thrash wildly, trying in vain to get free of his grasp. Then the floor vanished from beneath my feet, and I was hoisted over his shoulder as he began stomping up the stairs. I kicked and screamed, tears of fear falling down my face.

I heard TJ laugh again from somewhere downstairs, before I found myself standing again, and turned to see Mitch shutting a door and locking it behind him.

 

 

Available May 28th!

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