Lost in Life

Chapter 7

The boss is gone. Again.

Over the past few years, Owen has disappeared at random intervals for weeks at a time, leaving me to deal with the ceremonious bullshit. It’s become my ritual to take a job immediately after welcoming the new recruits, the frustration reaching a boiling point and needing an outlet.

Tavish doesn’t even wait for my text anymore, sending a link as I begin my intimidation “speech”.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I suppress the sigh of relief that the message brings. I’ll be able to release the beast clawing inside soon.

The now all too familiar rage simmers within me, echoed out loud by the buzzing of my tattoo gun.

“You know, I expected it to hurt more.” I try to tune out the kid’s voice as he brags to his buddy. “Guess I’m not as much of a pussy as you.” He snickers.

Breathing through my nose, I focus on the needle as it repeatedly pierces the kid’s flesh. The sound of bickering filters through my mind, making my attempts futile.

I press down harder on the next pass, a satisfying gasp sounding as the boy tries to hide the fact that it hurt.

“Ha!” His friend laughs, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face. “That totally did hurt, you lying sack of shit.”

“Did not.” The kid in my chair grumbles.

I glance up, a smirk ticking up the corner of my lips as I notice his paled face. My mirth bleeds out as his eyes meet mine, a familiar shade of icy blue reflecting back at me.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I push away from the chair with a shake of my head. “We’re done here.” I mutter, busying myself with cleaning up to avoid acting on the desires creeping up at the sight.

It’s not him. Just because he has the same shade of eyes doesn’t mean…

My thoughts are cut off by a whiny voice. “What the fuck do you mean we’re done?” The kid gripes. I can feel his heated gaze on me as he climbs to his feet. Shoving his arm in my face, he snaps, “This shit isn’t finished, asshole. I’m not leaving until-” His words cut off as I shove to my feet.

I beat back the screaming need for retribution as I meet his glare with my own. “I said we’re done, so we’re done. Now get the fuck out.” My chest heaves at the force it takes to hold back the beast within trying to claw its way out.

Shrinking back at whatever he sees in my expression, the boy stumbles backward toward the door. “Fuck this.” He grumbles, followed by something about a bad review or some bullshit I couldn’t care less about.

I watch as the two exit my shop, releasing a slow breath to try to calm my thundering heart.

I’ve always had an angry streak, my temper getting the best of me at the worst of times. But ever since…

I shake my head again, trying to clear the memories as I return to cleaning up my station. Each day that passes without retribution turns me more and more into something I don’t recognize.

Something that thirsts for revenge above all else. Something that doesn’t care who or what gets in my way.

Stopping in front of a kneeling recruit, I wait for him to look up at me. A pair of blue eyes meet mine and I nearly choke on my next breath.

It can’t be.

The bastard smirks, an evil energy exuding from him as he holds my gaze. My heartbeat quickens and my hands grow clammy even as I begin to shake with rage.

A moment of clarity hits as I feel the familiar creep of haziness threatening to overtake me.

I can’t blackout again, not here.

Spinning on my heels, I rush from the room, ignoring the curious looks as I brush past the seasoned members in attendance.

Showing weakness is a great way to get yourself killed in our world, but I’d much rather take on any one of these idiots than deal with Owen hunting me down for losing control.

Get it together.

“Zayn.”

I clutch my head, sprinting out of the building.

“He did this to me, Zayn. You did this to me.”

Kate’s voice fills my head as my vision fades in and out, flashes of her mangled body replacing the world around me just as quickly as it disappears.

As I dive into the safety of my car, locking the doors and hiding behind the blacked out windows, I wonder if I really am in hell.

The ghost of my past haunts me while the demon who brought upon her demise saunters back into my life.

“Zayn, he needs to die.”

He will.

That much I can promise.

Carver found me, and I can only assume it wasn’t by accident. But little does he know that I’m not the same kid I was twenty years ago.

An eerie calm washes over me as I’m reminded of just who I am now.

Blowing out a breath, I feel the corner of my lips lift up. I pull my phone out of my pocket and pull up the text conversation. Ignoring the link, I quickly type out my own message. The response is immediate, my grin widening. Dropping the phone into my cup holder, I throw the car in reverse and speed out of the parking area.

Me

Change of plans. I need all the info you can

find on Carver Hayes. Deep dive.

T

Got it. But you owe me. Give me thirty.

Right on schedule, my phone lights up half an hour later. Clicking on the secure link, I scan through the multitude of documents, everything that makes up Carver and his miserable little life.

Welcome to hell, Carver. Too bad you’ve pissed off the devil himself.