𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 ║𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧-𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐬

[Summary] Three months have passed, and your family is missing you. The boys are already celebrating their victory over your submission, but your Mother's presence in Santa Carla throws a monkey wrench in their plans. And David is willing to do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn't interfere further.

━━━━━━━━━▼▼━━━━━━━━━

Brrring. Brrring. Tia Young sighed as she tapped her pen against the stack of Post-it notes at her desk. Her eyes glanced over at the clock to her right. The time read 1:45 PM, which meant it was roughly about 10:45 AM in California.

"Pick up..." She murmured as she absentmindedly continued tapping, her eyes rolling into the back of her head in frustration.

Brrring. She huffed, angrily tapping her thumb over the touchscreen of her iPhone to end the call. She's been contacting Detective Ross in Santa Carla for weeks because she's desperately been trying to find you.

You've been missing for three months, with the last time she talked to you in length was Christmas. You called in tears, weeping about how you had just gotten into a nasty fight with your four boyfriends-David, Dwayne, Paul, and Marko.

Mrs. Young remembered when you first called her with your head in the clouds and your nose open, talking about how you had just gone on the best date of your life. You didn't give her the gory details, but you gushed about how you felt like a Queen. How these four handsome young men swept you off your feet, wined, and dined you.

Mrs. Young was instantly weary. She knew you were a free spirit, but she thought dating four men at once while still in therapy was too intense for you. But you wouldn't hear of it. In the months after, you swore you were the happiest you'd ever been in the last two years, and that was enough for her.

Until you went missing.

After New Year's, you wouldn't answer her calls or texts. She even called your job, but your boss, Maria, said you had quit.

No one had seen or heard from you. Not even your friend, Cat, who eventually confessed that you were planning to come home after breaking up with the boys. But you never made it-disappearing off the face of the earth.

Brrring. Brrring. Ms. Young needed answers, and she refused to stop until she got them. Even if that meant she had to search the streets of Santa Carla for you herself. So many young black girls went missing in America, with the police doing little to locate them. She refused to allow you to become a statistic. Brrring. She tapped her thumb over the touchscreen again. Slamming the iPhone down, only to see a sickening crack form across the screen.

"FUCK," she cursed as she watched the jagged rivulet spread like a virus until it bled to a stop.

She stared at the crack. The nasty blemish marring the once pristine surface.

That's how her heart felt. Cracked. Broken.

You were her only child. Her baby. The only piece of your father she had left. Even though Curtis swore you looked like her, you looked so much like him. Especially when you smiled. Your dimples were his.

Losing Curtis was so hard for her and you. Losing a parent and losing a lover within years of each other due to gun violence was devastating. Mrs. Young understood why you went down the dark path of drugs and alcohol to cope. She was about to follow right behind you. Being widowed was painful enough. But now she had lost her daughter. Drowning herself in libations looked better and better every day.

"Any luck, T?" Gil Young, her older brother, asked as he peeked into your office.

"None..." She whispered.