Fatality (Leaders of Anarchy #1)

PROLOGUE

Youth - Daughter

The sting of the slap blooms across my cheek, the mark probably already spreading into a dull red against my skin.

I don't understand, I only broke a glass, it happens, everyone can break a glass, why slap me for that?

Why?

“You know how much that glass costs?” My father snarls. “Of course not. You don't care because we're the ones paying.”

I blink, tears well up in my eyes, I try not to cry, so I clench my fists until my nails bite into my palms.

I'm trying, but I'm failing.

“Riven...” Kyle's voice is soft, threaded with quiet empathy.

Before the first tear can fall, I whirl around and run, I burst out of the penthouse and throw myself into the building's stairwell, the tears finally spilling down my face.

I just want to get away—far away from this place.

It's not a home, it never was.

The only place I've ever felt safe is with my older brother, Kyle.

He's gentle, always defending me, always giving me the love my parents never did.

And I'm not running away from him.

I'm running away from them.

Footsteps thunder down the stairwell behind me, someone is running after me.

The sound of ragged breathing echoes through the concrete cage.

I rush out of the building.

The cold night air and the rain slams into my face, cooling the sting of the slap.

It does nothing for the ache in my chest.

I keep running without really looking where I'm going, tears blurring my vision, the world dissolves into streaks of light and shadow.

I don't care.

The neon lights smear together as I race past them.

Usually, I'd stop to stare at the strange clothes people wear, laughing with Kyle about how some of them look like walking advertisements.

“Riven please!” Kyle screams. “Stop running!" his footsteps closing the distance between us.

His voice feels distant somehow, like I’m underwater.

I don’t understand what I did for them to hate me that much.

I wipe at my face, but it's pointless. Rain and tears keep replacing each other.

I don't know where I'm going.

Left. Right. Another step.

Then another.

“Riven!”

I blink hard, and the world snaps into focus just enough for me to realize there's asphalt beneath me in every direction.

Headlights bear down on me—fast, far too fast.

My legs refuse to move, as if the asphalt has turned to quicksand, swallowing me inch by inch.

Move, Riven. Move.

The command screams through my head, but my body won't listen.

Move.

I'm going to die.

My heart slams against my ribs so hard it hurts, each frantic beat stealing what little air I have left.

Still, I can't move.

The headlights are almost closing in now, this is it.

I'm going to die because I broke a glass, because my father hates me so much, he slapped me for it.

A bitter laugh catches in my throat.

Maybe it's better this way, maybe this is what everyone wants anyway.

I was never wanted, never loved by them since birth.

Maybe the world would be better if I simply disappeared.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

“No!" The scream rips through the street, raw and shattered.

I feel a violent push but it’s not my body against the car.

Something feels wrong.

This isn't metal, it's warm.

The force of the shove sends me crashing onto the pavement, pain shoots through my side as I hit the ground.

For a second, everything blurs, then I open my eyes and I'm met with the worst possible sight.

Kyle.

Time stops, my heart already aching, breaks completely.

The car hits him, not me.

Him.

His body hit the hood like a rag doll before crashing onto the asphalt. His legs and arms are twisted at impossible angles. Rain drums against him, washing streaks of blood across the pavement.

Brakes screech somewhere nearby, but the sound feels impossibly far away.

People are crowding, murmuring, some are shouting now.

“No... no, no, no, no, NO!” I repeat frantically in shock and disbelief.

I try to stand but collapse back onto my knees. I don't think.

I crawl toward him on all fours, my palms slipping on the rain-slick asphalt while my bare skin tears against the rough pavement.

It doesn't matter—He does.

“Kyle! Kyle! No! Please no!” Finally, I reach him and pull his head onto my thighs.

I can't stop shaking.

“I'm so sorry... Please Kyle... Please don't leave me with them... Please, I love you... Please...” I plea, my voice breaking apart completely.

“Ri..ven..” He forces out “B-Be.. yourself.. O-Okay?” Kyle whispers weakly, his voice fading with every word. “I-I love… you my… little star…”

His eyes slowly and heavily closes.

“No... please... you're going to be okay... please... open your eyes…” I shake him gently before snapping my head up “Someone help! Please! My big brother is hurt! He won’t wake up! Please! Someone help me!” I scream at everyone, at myself.

It’s my fault, he saved my life and now he is dying—because of me.

I pull him closer, wrapping myself around him as blood spreads across my hands and clothes.

Too much blood. Too much.

Then, I feel his body goes completely slack against my body.

“K-Kyle?..” A beat. “Big brother... please wake up... I won't run away ever again, I promise you... please open your eyes... I need you... please... please...”

The words leave my mouth like a prayer, over and over, my breath warm against his cheek slowly turning cold.

The screams of the drones and sirens around us feel distant now, drowned beneath the ringing in my ears.

Sirens paint everything in flashing red and blue while medics talk to me somewhere nearby but I can't hear them properly.

I feel a hand clamping at my shoulder, gentle but firm, pulling me away from Kyle's body.

“You need to let go to let us work, sweetie.”

I can't let go. I won't.

I struggle weakly against the person holding me, trying to wrench my arm free. Whoever grabbed me is trying to help.

I know that but all it feels like I'm abandoning my big brother.

Another pair of hands grabs me and finally manages to haul me farther away.

I stand there shaking, crying and bleeding--Is it my blood or Kyle's?

I don't even know.

Panic tears through me as the medics swarm around my brother, checking his vitals, shouting instructions, their hands moving with frantic precision.

Drones descend carrying equipment, voices overlap all around me.

Maybe they're giving orders, maybe they're yelling at each other, I can't tell anymore.

Just save my brother, that’s all I’m asking.

Please.

He needs to be okay, if not, what am I going to do without him?

They stop moving, they stop their movements.

Why? Is he okay now?

My heart beats so fast now that I think it’s going to jump out of my body.

I take a step forward mechanically, he’s going to be okay.

But when the old woman turns to look at me, I see her eyes and it stops me dead in my tracks.

Are they sad?

Then she does something that causes me to have my knees giving out—a small shake of her head.

What? Why is she—? Is my brother, okay?

I just want to know if he is okay.

The others medics turns their backs on him, grab a sort of long silver cover and pull it onto Kyle, covering his face.

Why are they covering him? He was cold, is it to warm him?

“I’m sorry sweetie,” The woman starts, her voice small “We couldn’t save him.”

The world stops, the tears streaming down my face stop, my heart and breathing stops.

The words don't mean anything anymore, I stop hearing the moment she apologizes.

Slowly, I lower my gaze to my hands.

They're scratched, filthy, soaked by the rain, and shaking so violently I barely recognize them as my own.

There is blood.

His blood is covering me completely.

I gasp awake, sitting up so fast the room spins slightly around me.

Cold sweat beads down my skin as I stare down at my hands.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing.

No blood.

I suck in a sharp breath and look around—I’m in my room, in my bed.

The familiar dark concrete walls lit by the neon glow bleeding through the windows.

I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress and bury my face in my hands before dragging one of them out, still shaking through my long black hair.

“Fuck...”