Ashes to Ashes

Chapter two

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Chapter two

"They say bad things happen for a reason"

Error #2: Sometimes a moment can be dangerously long

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THE AIR THAT WHIPPED AROUND MY FACE was cold and harsh as I ran through the lamp lit streets, my dyed, shockingly blue hair flying behind me.

My breath was coming in short gasps, adrenalin pumping through me.

Suddenly the heel of my stiletto caught on the broken pavement, causing me to stumble forward and land heavily on my side. Pain shot through my ankle like fire, and I groaned as I sat up shakily, inspecting my ankle for damage.

It was probably just a sprain. Gingerly I got to my feet again, squinting at the street name on the telegraph pole, but my eyes were too blurry to make out what it said.

Irritated, I brushed the back of my hand furiously across my eyes, trying to get rid of the tears that threatened to trickle down my cheeks.

I could still smell the metallic scent of his blood, it filled the air around me like a sickening perfume, and was spattered on the front of my slightly see-through black lace dress in an almost artistic way.

Woodbridge Lane. Where the hell was that.

If this had been me a few months ago, right now I would have been on the verge of braking down. But I wouldn't let that happen anymore. I wouldn't let people see just how weak I really was.

My shoes hung loosely in my hand as I started walking in the same direction I'd come, something I desperately didn't want to do.

After all this time, you'd think I would be used to it. Well, to a certain extent I was, but even though I know I made it look like I couldn't care less, inside, another little piece of me would brake. Another little strand of my humanity would snap, leaving me more emotionless than before. It's funny, how people can pretty much get used to anything if they did it for long enough.

I liked it better this way, though. If I didn't care, I wouldn't feel.

At first I pretended I was imagining him. I didn't even know who it was. Only that it was going to turn out badly for me, not them.

His shadow flitted in an out of my vision line behind my back. I was waiting for just the right moment to turn on him. He just got there first.

His hand slapped around my mouth, and brought me crashing backwards into his chest. I let out a high pitched terrified scream, only it was muffled by his hand so it sounded like a mouse being trodden on.

"Hello, Cola."

His voice was gravelly, like he hadn't used it in a while. Also think with an accent I couldn't place.

"How do you know my name?" Was what I wanted to say. Or "Who the fûck are you?"

And I would've done, too because he moved his hand away from my mouth and I turned around to tell him to stay the fûck away from me but he was gone.

At first I just stood there like, where the hell did he go? But then I saw him. Tarring down the street. He wasn't the only one, either. It took me a moment, before I registered the gunshots. My heart beating wildly, I squinted down the dimly lit street, trying to make out the man chasing him, gun out, firing at his retreating back.

It took me another moment to realise that it didn't matter who they were, I just had to get the hell out of here.

And I did. Running so fast I could barely see where I was going.

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I woke, twisted in the plain bed sheets, panting as though I had been screaming my lungs out.

Only a dream. Get over it.

The door opened, casting a small glow into the dark room from the light in the corridor outside.

"I heard you yelling."

I swiveled my head on the pillow to see who had walked in. He couldn't be that much older than me. Maybe nineteen. Dark brown eyes, brown hair pushed out of his face. I could see the start of a tattoo at the base of his neck, disappearing under his shirt.

"Oh, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes sarcastically. "I was having sex in my dream, see." Sweet smile.

He raised his eyebrows. Pathetic.

"Get up."

His voice wasn't harsh, but it wasn't exactly kind either. Kind of like, do what I say and nothing happens, don't, and you'll be sorry.

"Why?" I didn't care if I'd be sorry.

"Ash wants to see you. My name is Jax," he added.

I starred at him for a second then sat up, swinging my long pale legs over the side of the bed and standing up, slightly shakily.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, which throbbed dully.

Did they have me on drugs?

"Come on." Jax turned and walked out of the room, me following.

The ceiling in the hallway had patterns on it.

In contrast to the places I usually stayed at, this house or whatever it was, was the exact opposite. Everything was as bare as it was expensive.

He knocked on the door before opening it.

Ash was lounging in a chair behind a desk that was almost entirely covered in papers, laughing at something the guy leaning against the wall by the door had just said. He would have looked young, with his blond hair and grey eyes, but the tattoos that littered his muscular arms ruined the affect.

Jax's double was lying on a black couch against the opposite wall. Twins, I guessed.

They all turned to look at me and I scowled.

Jax gently pushed me to a chair in front of the desk before going over to the couch and hitting his twin's legs to make him move.

"This is Conner." Ash said, nodding to the blond guy, who scowled back at me.

"And that's Jax's twin, Jay"

Jay punched his brother in the shoulder, massaging his legs.

I bit back a smile, remembering how Caitlyn and me used to be exactly the same.

"As I explained yesterday, " Ash continued, "We want you to work for us, but only if you're good enough. I think you are familiar with what we want you to do."

"Which is?" I glared at him, which he seemed to find amusing.

"Baiting."

Ah, crap.

I nodded. He was right; I was used to doing this. It was one of the only things I was good at; letting men take advantage of me, leading them out of sight, then killing them unceremoniously.

Not that they didn't deserve it, though.

But just because I was good at it didn't mean I wanted to do it. I just did because I had to.

"Good. Then we start tonight. Be ready by seven."

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