"Bye, Paul! Bye, Ellie!" I call as I leave the café at the end of my double shift. I haven't heard anymore from Owen so I assume no one caught him sneaking back into school. It was a lucky escape, if you ask me. Last time he got caught Stella and George were called in and he got grounded for a month â he hadn't been happy.
The evening sky is slowly darkening, not quite dusk but not quite daylight as I make my way home. A car drives past, not bothering to stop at the zebra crossing as I reach it. I roll my eyes, unsurprised, and wait for the car to clear before stepping out and crossing the whiteâstriped road.
Idiot drivers, thinking they own the place.
Yes, I am aware that I'm only bitter because I, as of yet, don't own a car. I haven't even taken my first driving lesson. It's just too expensive, especially whilst I'm trying to save all I can for going off to university. Living expenses aren't cheap and I know Stella and George won't be able to help me out, it wouldn't be fair to ask. They have their own expenses to cover.
For the unforeseeable future, I'm going to be stuck on foot.
Up ahead I see a group of three guys, not exactly skulking outside the chippy on the corner but not looking like your ordinary reputable citizens either. I don't recognise them, one short, one tall and one a little on the tubby side. As I get a little closer I see that one of them, the short one, bears a snake tattoo â it slithers up his neck, curling around the left side of his face before ending just above his eyebrow.
If that doesn't scream avoid-me-at-all-costs, I don't know what does. I doubt even Neil Gareth would fuck with these people.
I cross to the other side of the road, trying to pray myself into an invisible existence so that I can walk past unnoticed. There's no one else around on this road and that fact alone makes me nervous.
"Hey," one of the guys' calls out, a clear indication that my invisibility power is severely lacking. I pretend I don't hear him and continue to put one foot in front of the other, hoping they'll just leave me alone.
No such luck.
"Hey, I'm talking to you," snake-tat says, stepping into my path and forcing me to stop. He's soon followed by his friends. The smile he gives me is far from comforting, his eyes holding a shine of craziness that has me taking an involuntary step backwards. It's strange how someone so small â because he is, in fact, tiny â can seem so dangerous. He just has a vibe about him, one I know all too well having grown up in a town like Greencliff.
I remain silent, not trusting my voice. If you can't sound strong then it's better to not sound anything.
"You're the Coleman's new bitch, right?" snake-tat continues, taking a step forward. He tilts his head, still studying me with that psychotic smile of his.
I'm sorry. I'm the who what now?
"Yeah, this is definitely the Coleman's bitch," the taller of the trio speaks up, his arms folded as he stares down at me through narrowed eyes.
Again, I say nothing.
"You a deaf bitch, too?" snake-tat asks, starting to look a little irritated. "We're talking to you."
"I don't want any trouble," I say, finally finding my voice again. I ball my hands into fists so they don't see them shaking. I don't bother explaining that I have nothing to do with the Coleman's, they don't really come across as the type who'll listen.
"Yeah?" he asks. "Neither did we. I'm just trying to finish what your dear friends started." He grits his teeth, flashing me a glimpse of his crooked yellow chompers. "So I'm gonna need you to pass on a little message for me."
I hear a click, see a flash of the blade, and my mind snaps into survival mode. I spin on my heel and bolt back the way I came, heart hammering in my chest as I hear their angry shouts behind me. I hear their footsteps too, thundering after me like an elephant on speed. Three against one and they have a knife â at least one. If they catch me I have no chance of fighting them.
I reach for my phone, wanting to call Dylan, Stella, Ellie, someone for help. My phone screen doesn't light up and I cry out in horror as I remember that the battery was only on twelve percent earlier. It must've drained down completely throughout the day. I try the power button in a desperate attempt for a miracle but the screen remains dark â dead.
Shit!
I twist and turn down different roads, completely losing track of which direction I'm going in as I just focus on getting away, cutting down a few alleyways in an attempt to shake them. It doesn't work, they seem to know this area much better than I do and, when I eventually come to a dead end at the bottom of a small housing estate, I feel more than hear them coming up behind me.
Fuck.
My heart sinks as I spin around to face them.
"Where you gonna go now, bitch?" snake-tat asks, a victorious glimmer to his eyes as they walk towards me. He's breathing heavily now, wheezing in a way that informs me of his smoking habit, but he doesn't stop to catch his breath. He spins the knife in his hands, the point of the blade pressing into the tip of his index finger ever so slightly.
Fuck you. I know better than to say it out loud.
"Looks like it's our lucky day, boys," he then laughs, glancing back at his minions before returning his eyes to me, letting them trail down the entire length of my body like he has all the time in the world. An icy cold feeling of dread fills me and I swallow back the urge to vomit.
This isn't happening.
Oh, but it is. I glance around to see if someone â anyone â is peeking through their living room curtains. Nope, not a single goddamn person has stirred at the commotion. Maybe they didn't hear these guys yelling after me but it's more likely that they just don't care. This town really sucks.
Looks like it's down to me then.
Snake-tat reaches out to grab me and my fist flies towards his face with the force of a thousand MMA fighters. Okay, so maybe not quite that hard, but it still seems to do some serious damage as it connects with his nose.
Maybe it's not the smartest move, considering he has a knife, but right now the only thing I really have going for me is the element of surprise.
I wait for the pain to reach my hand but it doesn't come â adrenaline, it has to be â but snake-tat doesn't seem so lucky. He lets out a cry of pain, reaching for his face as blood trickles from his nose, knife clattering to the floor.
Whilst they're all distracted I make my escape, pushing through them in an attempt to run back the other way. Snake-tat falls on his ass and I let out a hysterical laugh, finding it funny but also finding it extremely not.
"Get back here, bitch!"
I make it a total of three steps before a hand snakes around my ankle and pulls me off balance. I crash to the ground, head connecting with the pavement before my hands have a chance to catch up.
Now, that, I do feel.
I don't have time to dwell on the tsunami crashing over my skull, however. I try to scramble away, kicking back at the hand still clutching at my foot. My foot connects with something extremely highly valued to its owner, the tall guy crumpling in on himself as he holds a hand over his crown jewels. I can only hope I kicked hard enough to stop the fucker from ever being able to procreate.
Another hand reaches out to grab my shirt and I hear the tear of fabric, feel the nails digging into my skin as I break free. My own nails are bent back a little as I scratch them against the pavement, pushing myself to my feet and taking off again.
Never have I been so grateful for deciding to take up running. My stamina would not hold out for this, otherwise.
I take off, racing back out of the estate and trying a different route. I can hear them after me again, further back this time and I'm pretty sure they're at least one man down.
Sorry, not sorry, assholes.
I cut down an alleyway, clambering over a metal fence that makes far more noise than I'd like. I race out the other end, crashing straight into a solid wall of body as I appear back out onto a road, this time a few streets over.
"Sorry!" I gasp out, continuing on past the stranger without so much as a glance in their direction. A hand reaches out to grasp my wrist and I spin around in horror.
There's no way snake-tat and his fucked up posse can be this fast. It's not fair!
"Jade?"
I stare into the eyes of Lucas Coleman.
"Oh, thank God!" I reply, a reaction I don't think either of us would ever have expected. Right this second, I really don't care about this guy's reputation. He might make me uncomfortable but he's never tried to knife me on a housing estate, putting him a little higher on my list than Mr Snake-tat twat-face.
The concern apparent in his face concretes that listing order.
I must really look like shit if even he looks worried.
I sniffle, only just recognising the dampness on my cheeks. I don't know when the tears happened â maybe when I hit my head? â but once again I don't care, instead putting all my focus into an explanation. I speak between heaved breaths, the oxygen ripping through my lungs painfully.
"I was â there were â and they were â knife."
Okay, so it really isn't that great of an explanation.
Lucas doesn't seem to be listening to my hysterical rambles all that much, though. Instead he studies my appearance, clocking my no doubt bruised-as-a-peach forehead where it got smashed into the ground. I reach a hand up to my forehead and wince in pain.
Awesome, I have a planet growing out of my face.
"Ow," I mutter.
His eyes focus on something else and I glance down to see what he's looking at. My shirt is ripped, the gaping hole in the material showing off my tummy in all its scarred non-glory. I quickly cover the gnarled patch of skin with my hand, already aware that it's too late.
Lucas saw.
He saw it.
My adrenaline rush pops like a balloon and, suddenly, I want to cry for an entirely different reason.
I barely let anyone see it, not even myself. In fact, in all my life, Dylan is the only one I've ever allowed to see my scar.
But Lucas saw it.
My eyes snap up to meet his and, for the first time, I wish I knew what he was thinking.
Please don't ask.
He doesn't. He wants to, though. I can tell. At least, I think I can tell.
"Snake tattoo," I blurt out, forcing the tears away along with the memory. I motion to my neck with a shaky hand. "Said he knew you guys?"
In less than a second his eyes change from concerned to furious and, although I'm ninety nine point nine percent sure the rage isn't aimed at me, I take a step back. The motion doesn't sit too well with my head, it having grown accustomed to the peace of finally standing still. I feel myself sway a little and instantly his hand reaches for my shoulder, steadying me.
The door to the cramped council flat next to us opens, Finn appearing in the doorway as he closes it shut behind himself and steps into the street.
"Okay, okay, so you were right-" Finn cuts off when he sees me, shoving a wad of money into the pocket of his hoodie. His eyes widen when he gets a good look at my face. "What the hell happened?"
"Salazar happened," Lucas mutters, not even looking at his brother as he watches me, making sure I'm steady enough on my feet before letting go of my shoulder.
"Bastard," Finn hisses venomously.
"Three of them," I explain, finally wiping at my cheeks.
"Bastards," Finn corrects, shaking his head.
"Where?" Lucas demands. I shrug and wave in the general direction I think I came from. Honestly, I hadn't been paying much attention. He nods and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, lobbing Finn a set of keys. "Take her back to the house and get her an icepack. I'll meet you there."
He doesn't wait for a reply, just starts walking.
"Where are you going?" Finn calls after him.
"It's a nice night for a stroll," Lucas calls back, waving off his brother's worry with a stiff flick of the wrist. "I won't be long."
It doesn't take a genius to know he's going to find Salazar.
"Is he crazy?" I mutter as we watch him go.
"A little," Finn shrugs. He tries to sound nonchalant about the whole thing but I can tell he's worried about his brother, torn between helping me and having his back. "Come on," he eventually says, "I'm sure he'll be fine. You don't look so fine right now, though. You gonna pass out on me?"
I start to shake my head, instantly regret the decision, and verbally answer with a "no."
"Okay then, let's go. The car's not far."
I keep my hand safely over my tummy as we start walking.
*********