Their Weakness( Somerville Book #2)

Chapter Three

Lavender's Pov- Presesent
Lavender is 22

I inhaled the smoke as I puffed on the joint outside of Darlins' Stripper Bar. Just got clocked off of my shift, the crisp February air harsh against my leather jacket and denim jean shorts. My fishnet tights the only protection against the cold breeze.

That last converstaion Giltter and me had, spoke to the darkness that was always lurking around begging for me to let her out, but I always held restraint, the probability that if I wasn't good I would somehow disappoint the person I would never name.

I kept myself tamed, unsatisfied, and longing because dispite him killing our parents I didn't want him upset with me. But since Glitter told me to buck up and take what I deserved I knew I couldn't deny my longing appetite of freedom.

Maybe I didn't go all out. I still bartended at Darlins' every night besides Sundays, learned how to shoot a gun, and got a drastic wordrobe change. Dated some, but couldn't really see myself with them long term.

Sure I experienced sexual things hand stuff, blow jobs. Still didn't get the whole fasination of why Giltter liked them. The guys were rough, and their come always tasted like bleach and salt. But hey at least I could say I gave it a good ole' college try.

Even though my virginity was still in tact, no one would ever know I was once the good girl. Or that I was a virgin. Anyways who cared, virginity was only the patriarchy's way of making young girls subservient to them. It's a controlled marketing scheme. It isn't real.

Flicking the roach in the alley way I pulled my bag closer to my body as I tracked along the sidewalk. My car was in the shop, and all the girls left awhile ago. But I liked the walk to get a chance to clear my head. My apartment was only two blocks away. And I had my SIG tucked softly against my hand as I walked with my hand inside my bag. The cool metal a safety measure and my steal protector.

After my parents died I got bounced all over foster homes, never really staying put. A few times I ran to Maria's house but they always came and took me back.

She tried to get custody, but her Visa was strictly for work so she wasn't entirely a full USA citizen. So she couldn't get me, but that didn't stop me from running to her any chance I got, and she always let me stay before they came dragging me back kicking, and screaming to group homes.

By the time I was of age to collect anything my parents would have left. It wasn't much. Turns out Mark wasn't as rich as I previously thought as a little girl. He was laundering money and all of it got confiscated by the IRS.

So I had no choice, but to find a job and take up Residency in Somerville, North Carolina.

It had its ups and downs, but living on the other side of town gave me insight of the people I was always taught were criminals. Sure they are, and if walking home alone at 2:30 in the morning doesn't put a bullseye on your back for a predator to attack I don't know what would. But that could happen to anyone, and anywhere. Just because we live in the ghetto doesn't mean we are all criminals waiting to kill the fragile good hearted citizens of Agusto.

As I came towards my building on the outskirts of the gate of Agusto. It was an okay building it had a room and a place to lay my head so I couldn't really put up much of a fuss.

The moment I took out my keys that's when I felt it. The prickling sensation on the back of my neck. A shiver that ran ferociously up my spine. I could feel myself being watched. My keys jingling as I tried to hurriedly find my key for the front building.

My breathing, irratic as I palmed my gun. The moment I felt a hand place itself onto my shoulder. I twisted around aiming my gun towards the person in front of me. My keys clanking down against the cool concrete. Forgotten.