Contrary to popular belief, there were very few instances in which Damon Felix felt free. When he'd been on the field, nothing but the swift wind with him as he ran to make a goal, he was still trapped by the pressure that was constantly being tied to every game he played. When he was at another mansion rager, downing Moet & Chandon, he was instantly trapped by the glittering sweet taste rushing down his throat that beckoned him recklessly until he woke up in ruins - which only trapped him in all the mistakes made thereafter.

Damon liked to think he was free, he had to be. He was an heir, the best Lacrosse player there ever was, the man! Surely, those things meant something. Surely, those things meant he was a rocket headed for the atmosphere and not a satellite trapped in an endless orbit. If his life wasn't freedom, then nothing was.

Yet, although Damon never liked to admit it, a peasant with a stolen shopping cart was more free than he was because he was and always had been trapped. Trapped in his father's steely, frozen glare, watching the world move around him but too afraid to take one step out of line in front of Matthew Felix. Even his mistakes were careful, only screwing up as much as Matthew could fix.

Cheating on his girlfriend? It was an asshole move but it could be fixed.

Crashing the car? There were plenty of cars.

Going to juvenile hall - and then promptly ditching? Tricky but fixable.

However, now, standing in a phone booth in the smallest of gas stations, phone pressed so harshly to his ear that he could destroy his sense of sound, Damon Felix was sure he had made the most fatal mistake he could ever make. A mistake that went off like that of an earthquake, never ending ripples tormenting him for the rest of his - most likely very short and pointless - life.

He had just talked back to his father in the most confining of times. He had challenged his father, challenged the man whom had made it clear he was the key to the cell Damon had practically been born into.

Damon had always thought the consequence of such a huge mistake was entrapment for as long as he held the Felix name.

He'd never thought the result was actually unlocking his cell and letting him go, that the punishment was to be free and never return.

A knock on the booth startled Damon out of his paralyzing terror, causing him to nearly jump and drop the bulky phone in his hand, letting it clang against the suffocating walls enclosing him.

The knock brought him back to the bigger picture. This was all bigger than being set free by Matthew, his dictating father. Being free meant he was up for grabs to the brutal world outside of the luxurious cell he'd lived in all his life - and currently, two peasants from the dark web were practically clamping brand new chains around his wrist singing 'finders keepers.'

He and his sister, Erika, were in the middle of a kidnap for ransom and his father had just refused to bail them out.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans to hide his quivering, he turned around. Outside the booth, Shane, the mastermind behind the entire spectacle, was knocking with a closed spidery hand, a sinister glint in his grey eyes that was much brighter than the shine of his bald head beneath the glaring lights of the gas station.

He raised a barely visible eyebrow as if to say, 'What's the answer?'

Damon tried not to gulp, forcing his eyes entirely away from the phone still hanging loosely beside him, the dial tone mimicking the racing of his heart. He took the millisecond he had to study the cramped gas station, every corner filled by travelers stopping for a snack spree. He took in the oblivious cashier, the mother and daughter loading up on mini Snickers and Hersheys, the backpackers still arguing over chips at the cash register. He didn't know any of them and only a few days before, he would have thought he were better than them all but now he could only think of how unfair it'd be for them to lose their lives.

The guidelines had been clear; if his dad refused to pay the 40 million dollar ransom by eight p.m. everyone in the gas station would die. Shane had a gun in the very pocket of his leather jacket, just waiting to receive the wrong answer.

And Matthew Felix had clearly and precisely said no, as a punishment for Damon daring to speak to his father as if he were anyone else, and that was the magic word that would certainly get everyone killed.

Damon desperately summoned solutions to mind. However, all he could conjure were plans fit more for a Lacrosse team rather than a kidnapping. For a fraction of a moment, he wished he were as cunning as Erika was - the old Erika, not the broken girl with a broken crown and a bloody palm standing idly beside Shane. The old Erika had been ruthless, evil and wicked but at least she was clever. If Erika weren't so broken down, she'd know what to do. 'But she's always been broken and I need to protect her,' he reminded himself nearly every second he still lived.

Erika had always been broken, even if she had seemed so invincible whilst ruining his life. It was all an act to hide the truth; the Queen was simply a prisoner sharing the same cell and if they were both being kicked out on their pampered asses, Damon needed to protect her. It didn't matter that she'd made his life a living Hell at every turn, she was his sister and she was in danger. And she needed protection from danger.

'But how?'

"Hey, is your friend done yet I need to use the phone?" Stuffing a bag of Doritos into a sturdy blue backpack, one of the backpackers strolled over to the phone booth, his friend trailing silently behind him munching on a more spicier assort of potato chips. He was older than Damon had thought from the bickering over snacks he'd overhead between the two backpackers earlier, with thick glasses shielding lines of age adorning his brown eyes. The boy behind him, however, had to be around Damon's age, sporting a fashionably curly haircut and a cheap black t-shirt that was clearly from Forever 21 with the words, 'Only speak trapanese,' embroidered across in white letters.

Damon tried to will away the image of Shane pulling out his gun and shooting them both - and suddenly, it became clear. The only way he and Erika were getting out of this situation alive was if someone, besides Matthew, knew they had been kidnapped. Someone who could call for help because there was no way he was getting back in that phone booth with Shane around. All he had to do was find a way to alert someone that the bald peasant was amiss and get out of the gas station before anyone could die.

It was a genius plan that only the best Lacrosse captain in California could ever come up with!

Shane regarded the two backpackers with a bright smile that contrasted with his sharp features. Stabbing the pocketknife he was subtly wielding in the cuff of his jacket into Erika's bloody palm, he gave her the cue to smile too. "Sure, knock yourself out, man."

The older backpacker stepped forward absentmindedly as he struggled to zip up the bag on his back, and just as he got a hold on the zipper, Damon shoved into him with every force of Coach Mitchells' merciless training, sending the man falling over and landing clemently on his backpack with a thud that was overpowered by a grunt.

"Aw, fuck, I think I've just contracted arthritis!" He screeched but barely caught the attention of the cramped, bustling gas station, the cashier only tearing her eyes away from her phone for a fraction of a second.

Damon swooped down before his partner could, avoiding the beady eyes of Shane that bore into his back. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention, let me help you up." He said smoothly, offering a hand - and racking his mind for the one detail he'd left out of his genius plan. How the hell was he supposed to get his SOS message across without getting shot for it?

Before he could strategize, the curly-haired backpacker leaped forward - but not before shoving his bag of Hot Cheetos into his own backpack first. "I got it, there's a certain way he has to get up or he'll shit himself." He assured, practically waving away Damon as he began to pull the man up by his waist as if he were gently grabbing a baby from its crib. With a disdainful muttering, the man allowed himself to be effortlessly scooped up and planted back on the balls of his knockoff red Nike Roshe shoes.

Damon hung lamely off to the side. 'Now what?' He only had a few seconds before Shane would catch on to his stalling and realize the answer had been no. Then they'd all be-

"Don't forget your glasses, sir!" Erika suddenly called, rushing over to the end of the chips aisle to grab a pair of clear, thin glasses sprawled on the floor, carefully pinching the temple tips between her fingers. Her voice was slightly hoarse and meek, not like the Erika Damon was use to hearing; sugary sweet when required and pretty with an edge when she was on a power trip.

She gingerly handed the glasses to the older backpacker whose eyes swept over hers as if he were being blessed with the most prettiest frappe Starbucks could make. "Thank you, thank you, I really appreciate the looking out," He said quickly as if he were a TV on forwarding mode, a finger jabbing at the boy next to him. "Hey, I have to ask, are you single? Because my boy, Cade, needs a nice, pretty-looking lady like yourself to-"

"Dude, will you stop? What is this? The Bachelor?" Cade complained, although a slight blush could be seen despite his butterscotch skin.

A smile, a genuine smile, spread over Erika's hollow face as if she wasn't a rich lesbian who'd been kidnapped and held for ransom. She turned entirely towards Cade who took a step back as if he were watching a beautiful ghost come to devour his soul. "Actually, I'd be happy to give Cade a chance. He's pretty cute. How about I give you my number and you give me a call?"

"Get your damn sister." Shane hissed just loud enough to send a shiver down Damon's back.

Hesitantly, he grabbed Erika's arm but she only shrugged it off, sparing him a glance that gave nothing away save for the familiar glint in her hazel eyes. Erika Felix was continuing the mission and he needed to give her time to complete it. Perhaps she wasn't broken but pretending to be and they were finally working on the same team.

Determinedly, Damon turned back to Shane, masking his motivation as best as he could with a frantic expression - which wasn't very hard considering the stakes. "I need to call my Dad again." He lied, the tremble in his voice like nails against a chalkboard.

Shane's thin lips contorted into a frown. "What was his answer?"

"I need to renegotiate the price. I think I could get you more." 'Please take the bait, please take the bait, please take the bait.'

"My number is area code nine-one-one," Erika informed pleasantly as Cade began to type her number down almost giddily in his flimsy Samsung Galaxy.

Only a few feet away, Shane crossed his arms, grey eyes narrowing. "How much did he agree to?"

Damon tried not to look at Erika. If he gave too much attention to the spectacle, Shane would think the encounter wasn't happening by accident. Instead, he focused on keeping his gaze level with his; Shane, blandly regarding him as if he could shoot him and everyone in the gas station simply out of boredom and Damon, trying not to sweat bullets while he spilled bullshit.

"He agreed to the minimum 40 million but he's so devastated he'd probably give more if I asked."

"And if you plan to ask, how are you benefiting from this?" Shane countered, eyes turning into tantalizing slits that Damon could feel penetrating his soul.

Damon used all his power to hold Shane's stare. He held his stare until his eyes danced from grey to icy blue, until his bald head went from glossy clear to dark and clean-cut, until he was no longer Shane but someone else entirely.

"Shouldn't matter to you, as long as you get more money, right? That's all you care about." Damon replied coldly, a bitter taste in his mouth that felt like blood and freshly printed hundred dollar bills and pure metal.

Shane nodded, rubbing his hairless chin as if he truly considered such a thing. "True, indeed, but no. I don't trust that."

At that moment, Damon realized he hated Matthew Felix more than anything or anyone, even more than himself.

"My name is Erika Ayúdanos," Erika practically exclaimed in the perfect Spanish she and Damon were so used to hearing the maid Griselda speak on her breaks. Then, with that, she almost skipped over to her kidnapper, leaving the two backpackers staring off at her with jaws ajar and sheer horror in their eyes.

Shane scowled when she joined them, diverting his attention from Damon. "Don't you dare talk to anyone that speaks to you, got it? We don't have time for stupid nature boys who need a girlfriend." He scolded, voice low and tense as he leveled his steely gaze with Erika's uncharacteristically cheerful smile. However, all that was left of her glee was sucked into Shane's grey eyes of hollowness. Her posture slumped, her head hung low, and suddenly all Damon could see was the broken Queen with the broken crown hiding a bloody palm.

He couldn't take it - but yet he had to.

With a chilling blank stare, Shane gestured for them to start for the bright red Ferrari waiting outside where Shane's second kidnapped rich kid was waiting with his accomplice, Bryke. Erika and Damon weren't the only kids on the line, Cashmere Caldwell, Erika's slightly-off-but-slightly-misunderstood military school roommate had been kidnapped as well. All because she and her uncle had an odd obsession with the Felixs and had planned to kidnap them for their personal gain.

Unfortunately, the entire plan had backfired and now their asses were on the line.

Damon couldn't put it past Shane or Bryke to take the ransom and kill them anyway. Who knows where the men could be taking them to next? A cornfield to line them up and shoot them one by one?

Before Damon could reluctantly and ever so painfully follow Shane out, Erika abruptly grabbed his hand, not fearfully but tightly. "We can't leave." She whispered and Damon followed her quick glance towards the phone booth, heart racing as he saw the two backpackers huddled inside, sneaking hurried glances at them as they talked abashedly into the phone in fluent Spanish.

They were calling for help.

Shane stopped in his tracks then, turning around in the tiny doorway with a blood-curdling glare that made Damon feel like he was burning beneath it. His lips were pulled back, revealing harsh, gritted teeth and his hand snaked its way into the pocket of his leather jacket.

'Fuck, he knows.'

"You rich shits are stupid, aren't you?" He muttered lowly. "Didn't I tell you what would happen if you tried something?"

He took a menacing, slow step towards them and Damon was suddenly back in the foyer of the Felix estate, waiting for the first punch, waiting for the first blow, waiting to taste blood - except this time, Matthew lunged for Erika rather than his beloved son and Damon was left with only one choice because on the night of the auction he had decided he would never consider flight again.

Without a coherent thought, he pushed Erika to the ground, taking on the brunt of Shane's mind blowing punch instead that sent him stumbling on to the floor beside her.

He couldn't focus on what he could taste or what he could hear. He was Alabaster Prep's Lacrosse captain making the goals, running across the field, playing until his lungs pumped out every last bit of energy he could muster. He was the Cocaine tablets rushing through systems to kill and take no prisoners, the Corvette whirring into the street, crashing with an explosion that sent him propelling into fire.

So he forced himself back up, staggering as if he were a boat drifting on the dizzying waves of an ocean, vision unclear save for Shane coming at him again with something shiny that glimmered in the sun peeking through the poor windows of the gas station.

Another force knocked into him, this time stealing his breath, and Damon collapsed again. As he fell, the Rumor Mill came alive, buzzing, thrumming, thriving.

"I'm calling the police!"

"Just leave the boy alone!"

"I think there's a girl in that car!"

"Don't shoot!"

"Damon, Damon, I'm sorry, Damon!"

Damon tried to blink through the blur that overpowered his vision but all he could focus on was colors of green. Green, emerald eyes, green Benjamin Franklins falling from rooftops, green, emerald eyes. Yet he felt with his hands, pushing himself back on to his feet because he had to fight. He had to fight until he showed him he wasn't invincible, until he showed him that despite how powerful he was, despite disowning them both, despite Damon not saying anything at all, Matthew Felix didn't win.

And he needed him to know.

That in letting him go free, he had given Damon what he vowed he'd never get.

Someone had to tell him.

Someone had to show him.

He swung as hard as he could.

And maybe he missed, maybe Matthew had won after all, because instead of connecting with Matthew's jaw, something connected with him. Something hard, something that burned, something that cut through every layer and set a fire in his heart. Something that traveled from his heart to his mind and turned it into flames.

It wasn't until Damon fell to the floor the third time that oddly, his vision cleared and the gas station was visible. It wasn't until he fell that he could see Erika Felix crying over him, blood in her auburn hair and adorning her face. To his surprise, no one was dead. In fact, everyone was still standing in their corners of the rickety stop, clinging to cell phones and other people, gaping at the spectacle in the middle of the candy aisle.

Not even the sound of a Ferrari roaring to life and soaring down the deserted open road tore anyone's eyes away from what laid at hand.

And even in delirious pain, Damon didn't have to ask.

He'd been shot.

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A/N: Here it is! It's weird not starting off with a party or Jac's pov but it feels right so :p

Thank you to everyone who's been supporting this series even with the ups and downs I have while writing it. I thought about leaving it with the writing slump I was having and life outside of Wattpad but thinking about you guys made me realize how much I was going to miss the world and the characters even though I feel like I'm the complete opposite of what the series started off as now (plus, I hate incomplete projects and Lindsey and her wannabes will haunt me for the rest of my life if I don't finish this.) l hope you guys enjoy this book because I really want the series to end on a more honest note that not only reflects the characters but also my own vision as a writer <3