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Almost sick with worry, I just close my eyes and jump over the hood like I’m a fucking action movie star. A horn deafens me as I feel my leg brush against the headlights of a car.
"Kiara!" I shout.
But she doesn't turn around.
She's still running.
I don't know if I’m going to be able to catch up to her.
But I'm going to try.
My legs burn as I push, arms pumping at my sides, everything passing me in a flash.
In the distance, I see her figure turn a corner. How the fuck is she running so fast?
"Kiara!" I shout again loudly, frustrated by the effort of projecting her name as far as I can.
I round the corner, never slowing down, but she's gone.
The search for her continues down alleyways and across main roads until I'm miles from where we started.
Eventually, I have to give up. She's gone. And I lost her.
eleven
Kylian
London - Five Years Ago
The whiskey burns as it slides down my throat.
"What the fuck are you drinking?" Damien asks, picking up the bottle that’s slid out of my hand and is spilling on the floor. He screws his nose up at the label. "Did you pick that out of a hobo's pocket? You do know that about three feet from where you're sitting is a drink cart with about fifty thousand dollars worth of top shelf cognac and whiskey on it, right?"
"I don't want to drink any of that. I don't deserve it," I splutter as I snatch the bottle out of his hand and tip it into my mouth.
"Ahh, I recognize this. This is because of a girl."
I growl, and try to train my eyes on him. Well, one of him, since there are two Damiens standing in front of me right now
"You're such a know it all, which is interesting considering you're the dumbest out of all of us." I know I'm going to regret goading my older brother like that, but I'd happily take a punch in the head to distract the thoughts running through my mind.
"I'm smart enough to not be drinking myself into a stupor with cheap liquor over a woman," he says, not raising to the bait.
"We're not counting Mom, right? Because I remember dishing you out of a dumpster only a month ago after she called wanting you to send her some more money."
This time, there's no way he's going to ignore me.
I feel my body being pulled to my feet and then rammed against the wall.
"Sober up, you fucking twit. Before you say something this fucking stupid to someone who isn't going to be so nice to you." There's a dangerous tone underlying his voice that cuts through the dense fog around my brain.
He lets go of my shirt and I fall to the ground in a slump.
"I fucked up, Damien," I slur after I pull myself into a sitting position, leaning my back against the couch.
"We’ve all fucked up. You wouldn't be a Baxter if you didn't. And if I think about it, this probably is your first time. So, what did you do?"
I shake my head and pretend I can't hear a sloshing in my brain. "It's a girl. A woman."
