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Summer. When you live near the sea, you can taste the salt in the air, the hot breeze on your skin. For me, that isn't true. I live far away from anything water-related, besides the tank in my back garden and the running taps in our house.

Noah has his window down, his blonde hair sweeping into his eyes. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other constantly brushing his locks away. I lean my head against the window, keeping it shut. I don't need my hair knotted before the day has even begun, unlike my brother.

I'm tired and annoyed. I don't want to do this stupid job. It's barely six in the morning and I don't even know what the hell we are going to do in Wayhill. Except for putting ourselves in danger.

Noah turns the radio down, a sure sign he's about to open his mouth and ruin the perfect silence that surrounds me. I'm not a morning person and I want to sleep.

"So, it's pretty simple, we don't—"

"We've already gone over this," I snap. "I know what we have to do. I stay outside the building, looking out for any Razors, while you do the—whatever the hell you have to do. After that, we get the hell out before someone shoots us."

"Well, yes. But without the shooting."

I whip my head around, glaring at him. "We don't know that for sure."

Noah sighs, raking a hand through his wild hair. It starts to stick up at the end and I fight the urge to find a comb to fix it. It doesn't seem to faze my brother, though.

"Everything is always full of drama with you, El. Don't you realise that this life isn't as bad as you make it seem?"

Noah is so engrossed in The Skulls that he doesn't have time for anything else. He goes to school, plays football and then comes home to work. He's obsessed, always wanting to help them out. He's the first person at their board meetings, and the last to leave.

My heart hurts for him. He doesn't realise how much he's drowning, how much he's been brainwashed by my father and his members. He hasn't lived a proper life since he was eight. Or maybe he never had a normal life.

Maybe from the moment we were both born our lives weren't meant to be normal.

"I don't expect you to get it, Ellie" he sighs. "You've never given it a real chance."

Given it a real chance?

My whole life I've tried to fit in with the people who are meant to be my family. I've given it a better chance than mum ever did and I'm the one still here. Of course, I don't say any of this. It's pointless, really. My brother will always choose The Skulls over anything. Even his own sister.

"Are we almost there, anyway?"

I know that we've passed the sign entering Wayhill, but I still don't know which part of town we are going to.

"Yeah, almost there," Noah's tone has changed. He's in business mode now. He always changes when he's doing anything for The Skulls.

We pull up outside an old building. With its smashed windows and outdated exterior, it looks like it's been abandoned years ago. I look over at him, raising my eyebrow. "You're sure this is it?"

He looks at me and then back at the building. My brother is good at hiding his fear, most of the time. Right now, not so much. He looks back down at the piece of paper in his hands. The address has been written across it quickly, it messy, scribbled loops. My father's unmistakable writing.

"Yep, I'm sure."

He gets out of the car before I can protest. I huff, opening my own door. "Dad clearly cares about his children's lives," I chide.

Noah ignores me, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. His broad shoulders tense under his white shirt and I notice the way he footsteps tremble slightly, like he's thinking the same thing as me.

We need to get the hell out of this place.

The sun has risen to it's highest position in the sky, and I squint to see the building. It looks even scarier up close. The windows aren't just smashed, but they seem to be broken from bullet holes.

"Noah?" I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. I have a very, very bad feeling about this.

"All you have to do is keep watch. Not that hard," he seethes. It's the first time I've seen jealousy written in my brother's expression. It's clear he wants to swap places with me.

"Do you want me to go in for you?"

"No," he snaps, almost immediately. I'm not sure if I've hurt his ego or if he's hiding something else. I can't quite put my finger on it. All I know is that I've never been allowed to know what it is The Skulls actually do. Even if I have guessed, I've always hoped that I'm wrong.

I brush past him, standing by the door. "Hurry up, I don't want to waste my Saturday doing this. I have plans with my friends."

In Noah's hand, I notice something that I hadn't before. Two parcels. I eye them suspiciously, wondering what kind of job this is and why we were doing it illegally, might I add, in Wayhill.

"I won't be long," he says, gulping. I'm not sure if he knows for a fact he'll be quick or he just hopes he will.

I don't look at him as he goes in, I watch the sky instead. The clouds move quickly, shading the sun from my skin. It brings relief I didn't know I'd needed. I hadn't realised how hot I really am, and dehydrated.

Why did I have to stand out the front, anyway? I'd be able to see everything around me from the safety of Noah's car.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, rubbing it on my denim shorts. I grab the hair-tie from my wrist, tying my brown hair into a high pony. My t-shirt sticks to me and I sneer in disgust. Noah better hurry up before I die in front of the splintering sun.

I'm dragging the bottom of my t-shirt against my forehead when I hear something. My whole body tenses when I hear it again. A noise from my right pulling me from my thoughts.

What the hell is that?

I look towards the door, willing Noah to walk out now. He doesn't come, so I make a decision of my own. I'm getting in that car and I'm locking the damn doors. Screw the fact that I'm supposed to be keeping watch from out the front, I really don't care. I'm not going to die for The Skulls. I've never been as loyal as Noah.

I start to walk to the car when I hear it again. Feet on gravel. I run, grabbing the door handle. I yank it, once, twice, nothing. It's locked, and I don't have the damn keys!

Panic sinks in and I do what any scared person would do. I scream.

The blow to the side of my head catches me off guard. I stop screaming for a few seconds, trying to work out what the hell has happened. My vision blurs and I can't stand up, so I crawl. I crawl along the gravel and it hurts, but I don't care. The adrenaline has kicked in.

The second blow knocks me sideways. I should have expected it, but my brain isn't functioning properly. Before I can try and get up or even crawl again, I'm grabbed roughly, slung over a broad shoulder like I weigh nothing.

My eyes flutter open and closed and I try to stay conscious. What had I been hit with? A rock?

My head is facing the person's back. Blood is dripping down my face and onto my hands. A trail of it is left on the gravel, following us to wherever I'm being taken. I punch and kick the man with all my might. My arms fling wildly at his back, hitting him over and over. I knee him in the stomach and he groans, almost doubling over.

"Got a feisty Skull on our hands, ay?"

I don't recognise his voice, but he knows what I am. A Skull.

My blood runs cold. There is only one type of person in this world who would willingly want to kidnap me. A fucking Razor.

"Let.Me.Go!"  I start to scream again. "Noah! Noah!" I shout.

"Shut up, Ellie," the man says to me.

I shouldn't be surprised that this man knows my name. I am Damon Cartwright's daughter, after all.

"Why are you doing this?"

When he doesn't answer, I shout for my brother again. "Noah! Fuck! Where are you?"

I didn't care how desperate I sound, I need to use any hope I have of getting out of this alive.

The man speeds up and I notice how far away we are from the car now. Suddenly the doors of the old building bang on their hinges, bouncing off the wall. My brother runs out, his eyes wide.

"Noah!"

Noah hears me and starts to run, barreling towards us.

"Ellie!" Noah's desperate voice calls out. He's gaining ground, fast.

But before too long, I'm being hauled forward, shoved into a car. The back doors close and I try to tug them open, but they automatically lock. Someone gets in next to me, holding me down. He drags a cloth of my eyes so I can't see. I thrash around, clawing at my own eyes to get the dark cloth off me.

"Noah!" I shout again, muffled.

It's pointless. He can't help me now, the car is already moving. I'm in real shit. Real shit for helping my stupid family.

The Skulls are always too blame. Always.