Zoey’s POV

  Hunter never talked about disappearing lightly. He'd bring it up during stress, but when he did, he meant it. For a man like him, his words always came out like a final decision, a door slamming shut. No turning back.

  I always thought it was just a lame joke, a threat maybe, but never believed he'd actually do it.

  Five years ago, I was curled up on Benjamin’s desk chair in his office beneath the soft, yellow lights of the casino. Benjamin himself was slouching on a couch, a glass of whiskey in hand, eyes closed as he leaned back to the cushions. He looked like he was dissociating. Bryan was on another couch next to him, and behind Bryan stood Bulldog, a tower of a man, as big and menacing as his name suggests.

  Bryan has a knack for nicknames. He'd call his men anything but what they're actually called. Like those two creeps with the wolf and bull bronze masks. I never knew their real identities, and honestly I’m not interested to know.

  "What we gonna do, boss?" Bryan leaned forward, hostility burning behind his eyes. "How are we gonna strike back?"

  Hunter's voice was as chill as ever. "We are not striking back."

  Bryan's voice, usually calm, rose a little, veins popping on his forehead. "What do you mean? Those motherfuckers disrespected you. Not doing anything means you're weak, they'll think they can kick your ass whenever they want."

  Hunter raised a finger, a silent command to shut up. "Those guys are more powerful than us. They are led by that lawyer. He'll fuck us up on the streets and in court if we're not careful."

  "Your men got shot," Bryan's voice rose a bit more, "Your territory got stepped on. And you're doing nothing?"

  "It's just another power struggle." Hunter took a slow sip of his whiskey. "We will talk it over with them."

  "And what if they raid us? Take our territory, piece by piece? Once they catch us, we'll be dead. Or worse, we'll live as slaves for the rest of our lives." Bryan's last line sounded more like a jab than a warning. "You know the drill, boss."

  The way boss landed made shivers run down my spine. The word had an echo that resonated inside my chest. Benjamin never seemed like a boss in my eyes. He was charismatic, wise, sometimes an asshole, but not what everyone thought. No one else could see him like I did. To them, he was a man with no emotions, a killing machine that brought them money and status. To me, he was family.

  Hunter sighed, sinking deeper into the couch. "I wish I could disappear. No responsibility, no one chasing me. Just silence."

  My heart squeezed. That line, even back then, always scared me. Bryan shook his head, slumping low. Bulldog shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his huge hands clasped over his protruding belly.

  I couldn’t beg Benjamin not to disappear; I only figured that he wanted some company, so I crawled onto the couch and drifted closer to him. He wrapped his arm around me. I doubt he noticed me; he always did that unconsciously. I hugged him tight until the smell of alcohol on his black shirt clung to me like a cologne.

  I used to hate Bryan for making Hunter upset. But the man always spoiled me: He snuck me little bribes Hunter would never allow—chips, chocolate, candy, all pulled from his pocket and tossed my way whenever Hunter wasn’t looking. And because of that, I could never really hate him. He’s a part of my family after all. Yet, if he's involved in Hunter's disappearance, I wouldn’t forgive him.

  After a painful silence, Bryan noticed I was there, so he smiled. "Look who's here! You've grown up a lot since the last time I saw you."

  My lips stretched into a grin on their own.

  I could hear Benjamin chuckling when he rubbed my back gently. "I don't think so."

  Bryan's voice went back to that loud and annoying tone I'm used to. "Come on, look at her. She looks a bit different. Like a young lady."

  I looked up so Hunter can inspect my face with a tiny smile. "I don't think she looks any different."

  "Sir!" Bulldog’s voice was so loud and sudden that it made my heart jump out of my chest. "My knees are bad. Can I sit for a minute?"

  "Do I look like I'm holding a gun to your head? Sit down," Hunter said.

  The big man grunted and eased himself onto the couch opposite Bryan.

  Bryan leaned in close to us. "He's a good buddy, but his legs don't support all that weight."

  Hunter muttered, "I see…. And a diet won't do anything for him."

  "He gets tired a bit too often," Bryan added, "But I love him. He's my left-hand man."

  The big man’s head sank down to his third chin. In a moment, he was already snoring.

  Just then, the door burst open and Matilda stepped in, her hood up, a black mask covering her face. Our medic is also our spy, the kind who blends in with everyone to hear rumors—the fuel for all civil wars. She pulled off her hood and mask, panting.

  "Rumors are spreading like fire," she said, "Shit's about to go down."

  Bryan snapped back to being sharp. "Come on, boss. Give us the word."

  His voice shook the sleeping Bulldog awake, who sat up straight, his gaze fixed on Hunter. Matilda stepped closer.

  Hunter took his arm off me, and I sat up, too, waiting for his order. He took a deep breath, eyeing Bryan.

  "Send men to protect our territory. Don't let them attack until I tell you." He then looked at Matilda. "Let everyone know we don't want to be enemies, we want peace. Let them know we're laying low."

  They both nodded and left, with Bryan signaling for Bulldog to follow. When the door closed, Hunter poured more whiskey, filling the glass to the brim, and gulped it all down. I wanted to try some, but I knew he’d say no, and he looked too worn out for a lecture about the downside of drinking alcohol. He was staring off into space, lost in his own thoughts. I watched the side of his face, observing how troubled he looked even without seeing his full expression.

  "Benji, what will you do next?" My question snapped him out of it.

  He looked at me, surprised I was still there. He sighed and poured himself another drink. "What will I do next? I'll go somewhere far away and no one will ever fucking find me. Fuck this."

  Was he joking? Or maybe it was the whiskey talking? Those words still made my chest tighten. I knew it wasn't my fault, but the idea of him leaving hurt all the same.

  "You'll go away?" I whispered.

  He nodded, his voice low. "Yeah, and I’ll never fucking come back. I'll leave everyone behind." He downed the drink in one gulp.

  I could imagine life without him; how miserable Matilda and I would be. My heart twisted. "You'll leave me?"

  He turned to me, and for a moment, I saw the calm, kind face I thought I might never see again. Tears stung my eyes.

  His voice rose, suddenly angry. "I'm not going anywhere. If I stepped outside this city, I'd get shot in the head. Don't you know that?"

  I don't know if that was supposed to make me feel better or worse. All I knew was that my vision was blurring.

  He clicked his tongue. "I was kidding."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  What kind of lame joke was that? I was eleven, of course I didn't find it funny. I wiped off the few tears that fell from my eyes.

  He sighed and pulled me into a loose hug. "Matilda was right. I shouldn't raise kids."

  Even when he was joking, the idea of him not being around always crushed me. It was the one thing I never wanted to happen. And now, it did. I’m trying to convince myself that he is just on a solo vacation. But he would never go on a trip without us.

  A fire burns at the back of my throat. The image of us on a vacation... The beach, the sea, the shade of an umbrella. Us, being happy, playing in the sun.

  I shake my head, snapping out of the memory. No. Now is not the time for crying. This English class is so boring, I can’t help but space out.

  The old teacher has his nose buried in his book, as if he’s reading for himself. He’s not even looking up at any of us. The ticking clock over the board doesn’t seem to move. Others seem bored out of their minds as well. I wish that stupid nun didn’t catch us in the cafeteria and force us back to class. I can tolerate Annie’s drama, Laura's bitchiness and the boys’ weird humor way more than this.

  Which reminds me of the stupid game tonight. I still haven't written a word on that paper. I can't write anything about the second letter or the nun the blond idiot met, they’d know I was stalking him. My stomach twists; I'm sure he told them I was following him, he might have called me his fangirl or something. How stupid was I to get stuck in a bush and ask him for help. Who even gets stuck in a bush? I'm cringing. I really don’t want any of them to think that I like him, because I don’t!

  Someone pats my shoulder. I look back, and the girl behind me points to the one next to her: a girl with sleek hair cut just below her ears, a choker snug around her neck, and a septum ring glinting under her nose. Aren’t those banned here? She’s chewing bubblegum, dark lipstick stretches into an eager grin. She gives me a tiny wave. I don’t know her. I glance at the teacher. He looks up, considers the situation for half a second, then goes back to his book. I wave back.

  She holds up her notebook, flashing me a message. "The wee new lass?"

  What?

  She corrects her message. "You're the new girl?"

  I nod.

  She scribbles again. "I’m Kate. You?" she flashes another message.

  The teacher's voice rises. "Miss Murphy, bubblegum is not allowed in class, and makeup isn’t either. Please follow the rules and pay attention in class."

  "Aye." She replies to him, then goes back to writing again on her notebook. "You're in a club?"

  What was that stupid club called again?

  I write back to her, "I'm Zoey. I'm in that farming club, I’m not sure what it's called." I shrug.

  She rolls her eyes and writes, "Pretty naff."

  I nod. I can't agree more, whatever that means.

  "Join me for lunch?" Her smile looks hopeful.

  If I didn't have that stupid game to play later, or a mission to do inside this shithole, I'd have said yes. I need a break from those assholes, but I can’t let them out of my sight.

  "Maybe later," I write.

  She pouts. "Why?"

  I'm not sure what to write back. "How about tomorrow?"

  She pauses, then nods, mouthing "okay" with a thumbs-up. I really want to join her. Sadly, my head is still stuck in other places.

  The bell rings. Finally, the boring class is over. I grab my stuff and hurry to the door. I don’t want to miss anything in the idiots' conversations during lunch. Maybe I can find something to write for the game.

  "Zoey, wait."

  I turn to Kate, who's slowly making her way through the desks. She stops in front of me, still grinning, still chewing aggressively on the poor bubblegum. She spills a blur of words, something incomprehensible to my ears, perhaps a foreign language.

  "Huh?"

  She pauses, then speaks slowly and audibly, "I was saying, I looked over your shoulder the other day and saw that notebook you were reading. Must say, absolutely braw!"

  She doesn't give me a chance to breathe and goes on, "I love biology, especially the wee lads we see with a microscope! You should let me read your notebook."

  A guy pops his head between us as he passes by. "The wee lesbian is hooking up with the new girl."

  Being hooked by a lesbian was not on my wishlist for today.

  "Eat shite, John." Kate spits and the guy can't help but laugh at her accent as he walks away, his head is still in our direction. In fact, his ears aren't the only ones enjoying it.

  I gaze at her moving closer and holding my hands. Her face is serious. "I may be all for the girls, but I'm not pulling you. I'm mad about biology. That's all."

  The gibberish, the attitude, her looks—oh my god! I hold her hands back. "Are you Scottish? I love your accent!"

  She laughs, "All the girls do."

  "Can I take your number?" I pull out my phone and shove it in her hands. "I'm definitely joining you for lunch tomorrow. Not just lunch. Breakfast and dinner as well."

  I clasp my fingers together, fidgeting in place as she types her number while uttering something I don't understand. She's so iconic, I love it.

  "Here you go." She hands me back my phone. "See ye after."

  I wave her goodbye and walk down the corridor, then I hurry back to her, catching her still at the door. "Can you tell me something in Scottish?"

  She thinks for a second. "Cheerio." She grins.

  "Cheerio." I repeat, giving her a tiny wave, then stride away.

  Annie smiles brightly at the lunch table, brighter than usual. She looks different, although nothing about her has changed. Something is off about her but I can’t put a finger on it. She turns to her sister, nodding at every word and giggling at every joke. She's absorbed in the conversation about how Laura couldn't hit a high note in music club and ended up moaning in front of her crush. Hilarious. Annie calls Laura goofy when she likes someone. On the other hand, Jaiden is trying to be supportive, telling us all about the girls he liked before and how he couldn’t act cool.

  Only one person at the table is bitter—Armani. He's not showing any facial expressions. His eyes move from his tray to Annie. He’s not paying attention to anyone else. The coldness in his eyes is scary. I swear this guy hates seeing Annie happy.

  He waits until the conversation dies down and we all turn to our meals before putting his spoon down. "Annie, where have you been?"

  Annie stops chewing. She looks up slowly from her plate.

  "We had math and history and you didn't go to any." His tone sounds like an interrogation.

  "You skipped math—"

  Armani elbows Jaiden hard. "Shut up."

  Annie swallows the food in her mouth, forcing a smile. "I had something to do for the club."

  Armani sits back, tapping the lower part of his spoon on the table. "This early? Don’t clubs meet after lunch?"

  "Maybe there was something they had to do, you know," Jaiden says, glancing at him.

  "Everyone’s supposed to be in class before lunch, except the literary club, and she doesn't read." His eyes lock onto the uneasy girl. "Where have you been?"

  Was that what he went to ask about after breakfast? Most importantly, why am I holding my breath?

  Annie blinks a couple of times. "I... I couldn't go to class."

  Armani hums. His voice softens, eyebrows raised. "You look tired."

  Annie nods, her face flushed, even though she doesn't look tired at all.

  "You must have been resting in your dorm." He slaps his spoon on the table, laying it down with a thud.

  Annie nods harder. "Yeah, I was resting."

  "With the uniform?"

  She pauses. "What?"

  "You were resting in your dorm for three hours or so with your uniform?" He crosses his arms over his chest. "Ain't this weird, Annie?"

  Everyone seems to forget how languages work, not just Annie. Whatever reason Annie had for missing class didn’t matter anymore. The table has gone too quiet to feel normal.

  Jaiden interferes, "She could have napped with her clothes on. I do that all the time—"

  "Can you shut the fuck up for a moment?" Armani snaps. He can no longer hide his emotions.

  Laura's voice is thin. "What's going on here?"

  Annie gulps. She's eying all of us, then the table, then back at us. "I didn't have time to change my clothes." Her voice comes back more of a whisper.

  "Oh, really?" Armani’s voice comes out slightly louder.

  I join the conversation. "She might have got her period and had to go back to her room. Stop being an asshole."

  "She got hers two weeks ago. She can't get her period twice a month." He counters.

  Tracking her cycle is creepy, but I can no longer stick my nose in this.

  Laura shrugs. "It happens, and nothing is wrong with it."

  Jaiden turns to him again. "Yeah, it's normal."

  "How the fuck do you know it's normal? Shut the fuck up." He snaps again at Jaiden.

  No one moves, no one speaks. All eyes are on Annie, whose gaze is glued to the table, her hand tightening around the spoon. She takes a deep breath. "I didn’t feel good today and wanted a break." She looks up slowly across the table at her boyfriend.

  Armani taps his spoon again for a second before speaking gently. "I was just worried about you."

  Worried, my ass.

  "Good to see you joining us for lunch." His lips ease into a tiny smile.

  Annie nods, returning the smile. "I was just tired. I’m good now."

  "Your new friends seem to wear you out. I hope that doesn’t happen again while we’re here. You know, I miss you when you ghost us and think no one knows where you go." His gaze on her lingers for a couple of seconds before turning back to his plate.

  Annie’s smile fades. She nods again and keeps her eyes on the table.