𝐍𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘, 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 - kiara carrera²

𝒊𝒗. 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚

"HEY, WHAT THE HECK, MAN?"

For hours, Tatum Quinn slithered through the unknown shadows of Nassau, cradling her freezing brother in her arms until he finally went to sleep. In the end, the girl found herself shivering in nothing but a bra and skimpy shorts, because she had shed all her clothes off to wrap around the baby.

Then she bumped into this rude dickhead and the boy went back to his earaching wailing. Tatum looked up to see the face to the chest she had collided in. It was a girl, only young herself - she couldn't have been more than one or two years older than Tate - and she was rather pretty with her dark skin that glistened under the moonlight, and the jumbo box braids in her hair, paired with the most stunning, golden accessories.

But Tatum didn't care about her looks. She cared about the rude words that came out of the girl's mouth when she was clearly in a rush to protect her baby brother. She cared that she'd been caught. Someone had seen her. All it took was one person's mouth for a whole island to be chasing after her.

Before Tatum had time to raise her knife, the girl standing in front of her took out her own, beating her two it, as she smartly calculated Tate's next move. "Watch it, girlie, I've killed three people with this," she threatened in a light, Nigerian accent.

Tatum then whipped out hers from her bra, which was now dripping with the blood of the guards. "And I've just killed twenty with this," she said fiercely, holding her brother with one hand while she put the blade to the girl's neck. It was the first time she had spoken in what felt like forever, and it hurt her dried up throat. "And I've murdered another seven back home, so please just stay the fuck out of my way, because I will not hesitate to pierce your neck with this."

The girl watched her for a moment, inspected her. Then she laughed. Tatum raised a brow - she thought only she ever did that. "You're the crazy one!" the girl ex claimed, pushing the knife away from her skin. "John B told be about you, except in his story, you were dead."

It took a long minute for Tatum to process what the girl had said. She went through a million emotions in one.

Until she hit anger.

Still securely holding her baby brother in one hand, she thew this girl off a wall, and cornered her with the tip of her blade, pointed at the girl's throat.

However, this girl continued to laugh. "You really do live up to expectations, huh?" she humoured. "John B said you went soft when you loved someone, though - tut, tut - biggest mistake a killer can make is caring. It ruins them."

Tatum clenched her jaw, her older brother's many warnings replaying through her mind. She couldn't think straight at all. Everything she had done this summer was slowly catching up to her. Maybe Leroy and this girl were right, after all. Maybe if she didn't have the pouges holding her back, she'd be truly ruthless. She wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Her mind would be set free.

But who was Tatum Quinn without obsessing over the people she loved?

"What do you know about my friends?" she demanded through gritted teeth.

"I can take you to them, if you want," the girl answered casually, as if the knife to her neck was absolutely nothing at all. She liked Tatum from the moment she heard the stories Sarah and John B had told her earlier. And now she had met the legend herself, she only liked her more. "But first, let's feed chubby cheek's some warm milk, huh?"

Tatum furrowed her brows, looking down at her quiet brother. It made sense. This whole time, was hungry. Why didn't she realise that earlier? She was totally unprepared to have a baby on her hip, but she would do anything to ensure that her brother wasn't raised by the wolves that were the Quinns.

"He's not mine," said Tatum as the girl released herself from the hold she was trapped in. The Quinn was startled for a moment - nobody outside her family had ever been able to outstrength her before, and she didn't like it one bit. "And I'm gay, so don't expect pregnant woman milk to come spilling out of my tits anytime soom."

"There's a shop over here," the girl replied cooly, walking ahead, twisting her knife through her fingers.

Tatum mimicked her, but only slashed her hand open instead, causing her to pout sulkily. "I don't have any money."

"Who said anything about money?"

Tatum grinned, and her whole opinion on this girl changed in an instant.

"I'm Cleo."

"Tate."

"I know."