Who She Is

Epilogue

*Violence warning

Final chapter!

Alyx's POV

I slowly pull into the long driveway, parking when I make it up to the house. A really nice black car is out front. I gulp. Is that his? I'm sure it is. There's no signs of Amaya's. I wonder if anyone has even gotten it out of the impound, yet.

I grab the car door handle and feel my heart rate increase. Just take deep breaths. This is for Amaya. I steady my breathing before climbing out. I stick my hand in my hoodie pocket, grasping the gun in my hand. I step up to the door. I lift my fist and bang on the door, louder than I usually would.

I wait for someone to shout like last time, but the door is jerked open. I'm met with a pair of piercing green eyes. I scan over him to see if he matches any of the features Ryland described. Brown hair? Check. Facial hair? Check. Tall? Eh, not really too tall. He does look pretty average, though. Kind of overweight. His clothes are kind of shabby, too. His shirt has multiple different stains and a hole ripped in it. He's wearing some gray sweatpants that don't look to be in better shape. What about his voice?

"Who the fuck are you?" Okay, not very deep. More like his words just naturally come out slurred. He sounds like the guy that yelled last time.

"Is Amaya's father here?" I ask, keeping my voice stern.

He furrows his brows at me. "Who's fucking asking?"

"I am."

He lets a scoff out. "This kid," he mumbles. "If you don't get your ass of my porch right now, I'll-"

"Let him in," a voice behind him cuts him off. Okay, that was deeper and with a hint of an accent. That's probably her dad, and this is her uncle. He steps aside, holding the door open. I brace myself and step into the house I thought I'd never be in. It's just as messy inside as it is outside. Trash is littered around on the floor, a few holes are scattered along the walls, and there's a spot in the corner with what looks to be dried blood. My fists clench. I swear if that's hers...

I lift my eyes to meet his. He's sitting in a recliner with his ankle propped up on his knee. Both his arms rest along the arms of the chair. Well, he checkmarks most the boxes: brown hair, slight stubble, accent. He's dressed in a black suit. The jacket is thrown over the back of the chair, though, and his white button up shirt is rolled up to his elbows. His blueish gray eyes stare at me, and he lifts his jaw up. It's like his eyes are trying to read me or something. The threatening aura he gives off is unreal. Don't let him intimidate you, Alyx.

"Are you Amaya's father?" I ask without wavering my voice.

The corner of his lip lifts up before he slowly stands. He's tall, too. Maybe just a few more centimeters than me. "I am. My name's Grayson. You can call me Gray." He reaches his hand out, making me quickly glance down to it. I don't want to shake his fucking hand. I can see his red knuckles, and something on his arm catches my attention. Four fresh scratches run down his forearm, dried blood lingering around them. Amaya said she scratched him. This is definitely him.

I tighten my grip on the gun. I can't do anything. I don't know if I'll be able to take both of them out before they get me. I relax my hand and pull it out of my hoodie pocket. I came here to talk first. I put my hand in his, shaking it. The same hand that's hurt Amaya. The same one that injected drugs into her yesterday. I tighten my grip on his hand before jerking it away.

"You must be Alyx. Are you the same one that showed up here asking for her last time?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. So you're the 'loser she has a class with'? That's what she called you anyway." I try not to let it bother me. I know she was just lying to him.