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"Moreno deserved everything I did to him and more." I turn to Xave and lift my hand to pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. "So,what? We either have a new player in the city, or someone is coming after me specifically. For some completely unknown reason, might I add. And to top it all off like some fucked up cherry on an ice cream sundae, I'm driving out in just a few hours to see out the next year somewhere I've got no backup and nowhere to go if shit goes down. Fucking hell, Xave, maybe I should forget about that fancy university and just re-enrol in online classes, it was going to be hard to take jobs and sate the madness with the five hour drive anyway."
I have been taking classes online since my life completely changed that night. There was no way I could go back to school in my condition, and online classes have seen me through my last year of secondary school, two years of college and also three years of university. Now at twenty-one, I’m heading out to finish my last year at the most prestigious private university in England.
"No," Xave replies. It’s just one word, but the sound of it coming from him seems to lift a weight off my shoulders. I need this university for my plans and would be totally pissed if whatever tonight was, derailed them. "You will be driving to WinterHill in a few hours. We have worked too hard to get you out of this place and we haven't got enough to go on to say you will be in any more danger by leaving. It could even be safer. We've already sorted the job front, you just won't be doing as many, and as soon as you've checked out the place we'll get you set up with a safe house you can work in. Everything else we can work out as we go."
My smile grows at his last statement, looking forward to a place where I can play when I need to. It’s going to be hard finding an outlet for my insanity as it is, this could make it at least slightly easier.
“Get us out of this place, Xave.Us,” I rub my hands down my face, a feeling of exhaustion sweeping over me. “Okay, so I drive up to WinterHill tomorrow, unpack my gear, check the place out, and find a suitable safe house. All before lectures start on Monday.Yay.” I lift my hand in a sarcastic little fist pump which causes Xavier to chuckle at me once again.
“You just scope out a place and send me the details, I’ll get everything else sorted. I’ll even make sure the place is kitted out with everything you might need, shouldyou ever need to spend time there,” He lifts his phone to check the time. “Now go home and get some sleep, you’ve got a long drive in a few hours. I’ll get everything sorted out here and get to work on finding out what I can.”
I walk over to him and give him a hug.
“Thanks, Xave, for everything. I really don’t know what I would do without you, you know.”
He pulls back and looks down at me with a smirk.
“Oh, I do. With your propensity for murder, you would probably be locked up in some maximum security prison somewhere.”
“Yeah, yeah, very funny Xave.” I grab my bag and phone off the desk and start to walk out the door. “I’ll call you Sunday night with the details you need for the safe house so we can get it sorted out as soon as possible. Oh, and you’ll have to hold off on sending out tonight’s recording. We don’t want whoever sent them to know what’s become of them too soon, they may just put the pieces together if they don’t already know.”
“Sure thing, Kenz. You just worry about keeping your head down and getting through the year. I’ll deal with the rest, the plan still stands.”
I give him one last smile before I turn and walk out, leaving to make my way home and get a few hours’ sleep before everything changes.
Spend the next year being invisible in some stuck-up university whilst trying not to kill anyone,andtrying to figure out who wants to kidnap me. Yeah, what could possibly go wrong?
CHAPTER TWO
KENZI
I'm speeding down the motorway in my matte black Ford Raptor, singing to Raise Hell by Dorothy and drinking the coffee I bought from a petrol station about ten minutes back. All of my possessions are in the back of the truck with my Suzuki GSX-R750, which is also matte black. I've been driving for hours, passing the town of WinterHill half an hour ago, and should be reaching WinterHill University in twenty minutes.
This is the place that is going to open doors and get me out of the city that will drag me to my death if I let it. I spent all of my years in school working towards this one goal, and now there’s just a year left until it becomes a reality. I just have to keep my head down and stay out of trouble, which should be easy. You see, quiet, nerdy Kenzi isn'tjustan image I portray to hide from everyone the things I do during the darkness.
No. The Kenzi I show the world is stillme, but she is the part of me that’s always been practically invisible to everyone around her. She is the part of me from before the night that changed everything. And now I’m driving to the place where I will be living for the next year. Five hours away from the one person who has always had my back, after someone tried to kidnap the innocent version of me.
I can do this, it’s no different from all the other years, and the me from before would be able to do this.This thought is what keeps my foot on the gas pedal instead of turning my truck right the fuck around and heading straight back to London with my tail between my legs. I just hope I’m making the right choice.
I think about that version of me, about how even though my life has been a shitty affair, and my clothes covered a multitude of someone else’s sins, I had always hoped, one day, I could be free of it all. I didn’t have any friends, preferring to stay invisible out of fear that someone would find out what was going on at home and somehow make it worse. But then I found two people I trusted with my truth, and they had always tried to keep me safe as much as they could.
Xavier lived next door for as long as I could remember. I suppose it was inevitable that he would eventually find out what happened inside the walls of my own personal hell. He found me huddled in the bushes at the back of the garden which divided our two properties, battered and sobbing after I had been given a particularly vicious beating from my father. I was ten, he had just turned thirteen. I knew this because his parents had thrown him a birthday party the day before. I had sat up in my dark bedroom watching him and all his friends having so much fun, and I wished so bad that I could have that just once. That I could have friends and be happy, just for a little while.
He looked so sad when he found me, speaking in low tones and trying to calm me in an effort to coax me out of the bushes like I was a wild animal. I don’t remember what he said, or how long he sat trying, but his efforts finally paid off when I slowly started to make my way towards him. As I came out of the bushes and we both stood up, I heard his horrified gasp as he took in my appearance and realised the extent of my bruises. I looked up at him and saw his eyes widen even more at the state of my face.
I went to turn and run, not believing I had been so stupid as to let him see, but before I could get back into the bushes he grabbed me to stop my escape. I literally freaked out at the contact. I scratched and bit any part of him I could get a hold of. But his hold never faltered and his words never became harsh. He continued to speak in the same low tones until I finally gave up with exhaustion. He was so much bigger than me, even all those years ago.
He picked me up, cradled me to his chest and started to carry me towards his house. My eyes went wide and I started struggling again, not wanting anyone else to see me like I was. Not wanting anyone to know. I must have said as much in my panicked state, because the next thing I knew, he had spun around and started walking back to the rear of the garden, moving towards a hole in the fence that separated it from the next house along.
He took me up into a treehouse in the garden and gently set me down on a pile of cushions, then pulled a blanket around my shoulders. I didn’t know who the treehouse belonged to but I was grateful to this boy for bringing me here to hide.
After telling me he would be back, he left the treehouse and I just sat, not knowing what to do. I was so torn, if my father had found me there he would have hurt me again, probably worse. But I had never had anybody be nice to me and I wanted to feel that for just a little while longer. So I stayed, and just like he said he would, he returned with a bag full of first aid supplies and snacks. He helped to clean and bandage my cuts and then handed me a large bag of chocolate with a smile. We sat in silence eating our snacks, Xavier never pushing me to talk, happy to simply sit there with me.
A little while later I heard footsteps outside the treehouse. Xavier must have heard them too because he was immediately up and in front of me, blocking me from the view of whoever was coming up. I heard a boy’s voice from the entrance of the treehouse, he sounded young so I started to relax as I realised it couldn’t be my father.
He came in and sat down next to Xavier and they sat speaking quietly between themselves for a while. When they seemed to be finished with whatever conversation they were having, they turned back around and faced me. The boy told me his name was Clayton Maguire and he was ten years old, like me. He also told me that we were in his treehouse but that I could come up anytime I wanted to, even if he wasn’t home.
We sat in that treehouse for hours, eating the snacks Xavier had brought over and listening to music on his phone. I felt safe with them and that day cemented our friendship for the next five years. Over time, I told them the extent of my father’s evil towards me. The name he called me by and how freely he swung his fists. They were always finding different ways of keeping me out of the house. Away long enough for him to pass out from a cocktail of booze and drugs. I also told them my plans. I was smart enough to get out of this town and away from my father, and we vowed to do it together, no matter what.
