Bikes & Blood

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Passersby knocked into Amara's shoulder on their way through the boardwalk. The stars glittering within the sky as the lights of the boardwalk glinted off the sea; the summer breeze brushing against Amara's cheek like that of a mother's caress. Her mind drifting off to the reason she'd spent the past two nights away from the boardwalk, shaken and jumpy after she'd happened upon that fire-riddled car.

Amara watched as people walked by, laughing and smiling as though no one had been murdered in the parking lot of the boardwalk two nights ago. And despite the instincts that screamed at Amara to go home and stay within the safety of her bedroom, Amara continued on her way through the patrons of the boardwalk-aimlessly wandering about the rides and stalls as though she'd never seen them before.

And maybe Amara hadn't.

Something within her gut told Amara that she hadn't seen Santa Carla for what it truly was. Urging her with a sudden franticness that she'd only seen the surface deep mask of Santa Carla, and not the darkest secrets it hid within the shadows of that mask.

Amara huffed out a breath of air, shoving her swirling thoughts to the depth of her mind as she wove through the people of the boardwalk. Her eyes darting from stall to stall, soaking in the clarity and freedom that spread through her chest with every inhale. She paused beside the turning carousel, neon-white lights cascading around her like that of a halo-a halo of light that even the shadows skittered away from.

The haughty and yet joyous music of the ride rang through Amara's ears and across the wooden planks, drifting across the ocean until only the stars could hear its song. Boisterous laughter met Amara's ears and drew her attention away from the ornate ride. Unease filling her gut as the group of Surf Nazi's from two nights ago staggered across the boardwalk. Their slurred and leering conversations flitting past her ears as Amara turned back towards the ride-hoping with everything in her that they wouldn't recognise her.

Amara jumped with fright. A meaty hand coming to rest on the skin of her shoulder as she reluctantly tore her gaze from the carousel and to the leering smile of the dark-haired Surf Nazi. Her stomach churned with unease as the group of five eyed her like a piece of meat, intoxicated stares lingering far too long on the swell of her chest. Amara swallowed nervously, eyeing the group as her father's voice rang within her head.

"Resort to violence last, Mars. If you can, get out of the situation before it can go pear-shaped, but if you can't. Make them regret ever meeting you."

Amara tensed as a man with obscenely dyed hair slung his arm across her shoulders, the dark-haired man's fingertips grazing across the white straps of her halter top as Amara abruptly stepped forward and away from their wandering hands. Her feet carried her away from the men before a calloused hand wrapped around her forearm and pulled Amara back towards the nauseating group of men.

A grimace distorted her face as Amara harshly tugged at her ensnared arm. Fawn-brown eyes darting up to those of an ash-blonde haired man whose lips were upturned into a sickening smirk. She swallowed the brimming fear that crept into her bloodstream, batting the man's wandering hands away from her hips with narrowed eyes-utterly unimpressed by the swaying, alcohol-ridden man before her.

A chuckle of bemusement spilled from the man's lips as he stepped closer, calloused fingers toying with the denim belt loop of Amara's jeans. Footsteps echoed within her ears in sync with the pounding of her heart as Amara shoved the drunken man away from herself. The man's friends let out a series of snickers and jeers as their friend stumbled, elm-brown eyes burning with scorn as he righted himself and strode towards her.

Amara's heart lodged itself in her throat as he gripped her forearms tightly, fingertips digging into the flesh of her arms with a jolting sense of entitlement. "You little-."