♕Harley Anderson♕

When I'm alone in the apartment, I decide to try and give writing a go. I haven't being able to write anything really good since... well, everything went to shit. Writing has always been my escape when racing couldn't be but I haven't had either these past few months. And, honestly, it's made everything harder.

It feels like I stare at the blank paper for hours. After I've written a few words, I realise just how horrible it is and rip the page out, letting out a strangled and frustrated cry. I throw the book to the end of the room in frustration before crying softly at being unable to do what I love, unable to move on and my inability to just move on and be happy. 

However, my little breakdown is cut short when I hear shouting and yelling and then gunshots from an apartment somewhere else. It doesn't seem like my floor but I can't stop the fear that consumes me. I immediately reach for my phone but only to press it and see the dead battery icon. Panic sets in as more gunshots are heard and shouting.

The Kings are here. I'm going to die.

My legs carry me to the bedroom and I hastily pull out the bag from underneath the bed, ruffling around for the item and when I feel it, I slip it out. The metal of the pistol is smooth and cold and I check to see if there's any bullets in it which there is. Another gunshot makes me flinch and I'm pushing the bag back under the bed before climbing in the cupboard and shutting it close. 

It's a small fit with all our jackets and my dresses hanging but I make it work. There seems to be more shouting and I whimper, covering my hand with my mouth when I hear my door being kicked open. Silent tears stream down my face and I shrink into the corner, only being able to see out of the thin space between the wall and cupboard.

I hear the voices then- one female and the other male. But they speak in Spanish which means I only pick up on a little. The man says something about the place looking like nobody lives here and the woman saying something about dishes in the sink. Their footsteps seem to get louder and it becomes harder for me to keep my fear and panic under wraps and when I hear their footsteps stop just outside of the room and then enter, I grip the gun tighter.

I don't want to kill anyone again.

But I don't want to die either.

There's two of them- they can easily kill me. But I won't go down without a fight.

The man says something before the woman laughs and says something that makes the man seem to growl. I feel them tugging at the cupboard when the woman says something about the next room and they're leaving but not without knocking something off of the kitchen counter on their way out.

I hold my breath a little longer, waiting to make sure they're really gone before I'm leaving the space on shaky legs and quietly exiting the room. I gaze around to find it empty and walk over to the now shattered mug on the floor before placing the gun on the counter and beginning to pick up the broken pieces, unable to wrap my head around what just happened.

Is this how it's always going to be? Me terrified at every moment? And unable to feel safe and secure in my own apartment?

"Harley." Someone says and I shoot up, grabbing the gun and pointing it at the person in record time before I notice it's Cyrus with his hands held up in surrender.

And he's bleeding.

I drop the gun on the counter and run over to him where he has a gash just under his eyebrow that's oozing blood. A lot of blood. And he's clutching his shoulder that is making his white shirt turn red at an unfathomable rate.

"Do," he swallows hard, wincing "you have a first aid kit?"

I take a step back at stare at him. This is the first time we're talking since I discovered he's part of a gang and Jack's bitch. And I'm torn between helping him before he dies of blood loss or leaving him out here so that he can feel pain. And I would give in to the latter if I didn't already hate myself so much so, instead, I usher him inside and seat him on the couch. I shut the door that's hanging on its hinges now and sprint to the bathroom where I retrieve the kit. I grab a wet towel and a bowl of water before seating myself in front of my brother.

I clean the gash on his face first, wiping off the blood before sterilizing a needle and stitching the wound closed. Cyrus allows me to work in silence although he winces a couple of times. When it comes time to take the bullet out, he peels his shirt off and I cannot remove my eyes from the symbol of the snake with its mouth open that's being inked on his chest, the spot above his heart. My brother has a few other tattoos on his body and I remember the days he was just a boy and had none of that. But he also has a lot of scars, some probably from our father and others from gang violence- I don't know. Although it's the tattoo on his right ribs that catches my attention.

It's a date- my birthday.

"Shit." He curses and I'm snapped back to reality where blood is running down his arm. I dip the tweezers in septic liquid to sterilize it before telling him to hold still. Shoving it in, Cyrus groans before I pull it out and drop it into a jar.

I feel him watching me as I reach for the cloth to wipe away the blood and he has the audacity to muse: "You're sure good at stitching wounds close. You studying to be a doctor?"

"Well when you have an abusive father and a brother and mother who abandons you, you learn to do things normal kids probably wouldn't." Is my sarcastic response.

"Lee, I didn't kn-"

"Don't." I snap, pausing from stitching his wound closed. "I don't want to hear it Cyrus. Just because I'm stitching you closed doesn't mean I want to talk, I'm just helping you like a normal person would- not that you would understand that. And don't call me Lee. You lost that privilege the moment you left and never came back."

He purses his lips and doesn't say anything more. When we were little, it was usually Cyrus who stitched me close after my dad beat me yet sitting here, given the circumstances, I cannot really wrap my head around the way our roles have reversed. After he left, I never thought I'd see him again and yet here he is- shot from gang rivalry, tattooed and ripped and a different man to the one I ever imagined him becoming. I forgave him for leaving me but that was before I knew what he left me for and now I'm not sure he's capable of being forgiven at all.

"There, done." I mutter when I'm finished, my own hands stained red as I gather all the things I've used.

"Thank you." He says softly.

"Yeah, whatever." I mutter before he rests his hand on my shoulder. Shrugging it off, I scowl.

"Don't touch me Cyrus. You're lucky I didn't leave you to bleed to death."

His green eyes don't seem hurt by my account and he sighs, looking down. "I know."

I stand up and take the things to the bathroom before rinsing off my hands. When I return, he's typing something on his phone but puts it away when I enter. I lean against the wall and for just a moment, we only stare at each other. I take the time to observe my brother and I come to the conclusion that he's more handsome than I ever thought he would be.

He's thick arched eyebrows somehow compliment his sharp jaw and his green eyes still hold a gentle touch to them- ironically- while he's finally grown into his nose so that it doesn't look too big for him any longer. There is still a beauty spot above his eyebrow and lip. We don't really look alike but the blonde hair no doubt makes it seem like we do.

"What happened?" I ask as I look away.

"A bunch of Kings members broke in and jumped me. Took all the cash I had and my guns."

I nod in acknowledgement.

"They came in here didn't they?" He asks tersely and I nod before he curses under his breath. "Are you okay?"

A breath of a laugh escapes me, "Don't pretend like you care Cyrus."

His eyebrows draw together. "I'm not. I do care. I'm sorry I left you Harley but I didn't know about Jack blackmailing you to join the gang-"

"Stop!" I hiss through gritted teeth. "Don't you get it Cyrus? It doesn't matter whether you care or not, all you do is hurt me! You seem to think that sorry just fixes everything, well, news flash- it doesn't! I still have every scar on my body and soul from when you left me with that monster who used me as a punching bag! I'm still getting dragged into this gang! So do me a favor and stop fucking apologizing because it doesn't mean shit, okay? Just... just save it. As far as I'm concerned, my brother is still gone."

My breathing is heavy when I finish and- to his credit- my brother seems genuinely hurt and disappointed. So much so that he looks down at his hands and gulp.

I never thought my brother would turn out to be this... this criminal but I bet he also didn't picture me as a murderer so I guess we both turned into different people.

Before I can even register it, Percy is barging into the apartment, eyes wide before she is looking around frantically for my brother.

"Percy," he says as he stands up. She immediately rushes over to him, eyeing his injuries. "Who the fuck was it?"

She sounds mad. Really fucking mad.

Cyrus says a few names and I sigh, walking into the passage and taking a seat on the floor. I see Cyrus cup her cheek and for a second, tears come to my eyes as I see the way he looks at her. The look of love and complete adoration. I wish he looked at me with love like he used to. It might be a different kind of love but if he's capable of feeling that way for Persephone, why can't he feel a brotherly one for me? Is that so much to ask?

He presses a kiss to her forehead and I look away, feeling like I'm intruding on a private moment.

And then Danté and Katalina are running in. The minute Danté sees me, I'm up on my feet and throwing myself at him. He's holding me close and Katalina is looking around.

"Who was it?" She asks Cyrus before they both go into discussion about it. That gives Danté time to drag me to the bathroom and shut the door behind us. The first thing he does is look me over, observing me for any injuries.

"I'm fine. They didn't see me." I reassure him and he runs a hand through his hair in distress.

"I told you to call me if something happened amado."

He sounds a little mad and I sigh.

"My phone was flat. I'm sorry."

Danté shakes his head before he cups my cheek and forces me to look at him.

"Are you okay?"

I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. It opens and closes like I'm a fish out of water before Dante embraces me again.

"I was so scared Danté. They were in the apartment. They were in the bedroom." I mumble into his chest and he squeezes me tighter, stroking my hair. "I was ready to kill them. It shouldn't be like that."

When I pull away from Danté, I can see the worry and anger in his eyes.

"How did you know something happened?" I ask. Danté came running in, it clear he knew something had happened before he even walked into the apartment.

"Katalina got a message from Persephone and I rushed over here." He tells me and I nod. "Come on."

We leave the bathroom then and I walk out to find Lina talking to another man who wasn't here minutes before. However, from one look at him I already know that this is her brother. He has the same black hair as Lina although his is obviously cut short and seems to curl in a cute kind of way. He has a pointy nose and thick, dark eyebrows above hooded hazel eyes. He doesn't smile but there are still indentations of dimples in his cheeks and his Adam apple protrudes quite a lot. All in all, Katalina's brother is handsome, and with his sleeve of tattoos and the ones on his fingers as well his muscular build, he definitely looks like a force to be reckoned with.

They cut their conversation short when we enter and the man I was observing immediately looks at me, eyes scanning me from head to toe before meeting my gaze again. "You must be Harley."

"And you must be Lina's brother..."

"Ramiro." He fills in for me and I nod.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Lina asks me with a frown, stepping forward as if to embrace me before thinking better of it and stepping back. I recite exactly what happened to them and they listen silently and when I finish, Ramiro shakes his head.

"What has the gang done?" He asks Lina and she shrugs.

"I don't know, Ray." She responds and I frown

"What do you mean?"

"The Kings never do something like this for no reason. They have to be provoked." Lina explains and my eyebrows draw together as I look between the siblings.

"Why are you defending them?"

It seems like I've offended Lina as she recoils a step back. I feel Danté grip my arm from behind, squeezing it as if to warn me not to say anything else.

"I'm not defending them Harley. Don't ever accuse me of defending... them." Lina responds with a scowl, spitting the words out like they've left a bitter taste in her mouth. "I'm just stating the facts and the fact is that they don't react unless provoked. Jack just fails to mention that."

Ramiro mutters something to Lina and I purse my lips. Upsetting a gang member- no matter how nice they seem- probably isn't a good idea.

"Why did they come into this apartment?" Danté questions, trying to divert the conversation away from my accusation.

Ramiro shrugs. "They know that a lot of Jack's members or associates live in this building so they probably just ram-sacked as many they could get into. And, chances are, they know that you two are new members. They've got eyes and ears everywhere, even in Jack's territory."

A sharp sigh escapes me as I realize that this is going to be only one of the many times my life is put in danger.

•••
Please drop a vote if you enjoyed the chapter :)
I hope that everyone is doing okay during this time...
What characters are standing out most to you at the moment? I'm curious :p

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