The Tormentors (Prey Series #1)

Chapter 4

Liessa

I excuse myself from Stella, offering a quick smile as I gather my things and head out of the cafeteria. As soon as I step into the hallway, the world feels smaller—quieter. I find myself standing next to a row of lockers, leaning against the cool metal as I pull out my phone, staring at the name glowing on the screen: Aunt Rosa. My hands tremble as I accept the call. We only talk twice a year. It’s our rule—one meant for safety.

“Hello…” My voice comes out softer than I intended, shaky even, as I glance around to make sure no one is listening.

“Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?” Aunt Rosa’s familiar voice is gentle, but there’s a tension beneath her words, something I recognize too well.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of what’s coming. “I’m… I’m okay. How are you? How’s… Sam?” His name is like a punch to my gut. Even after all this time, the guilt gnaws at me. The memory of his face, of everything that happened, sends a shiver down my spine.

Aunt Rosa’s voice wavers slightly, and I know she’s holding back tears. “I’m alright, sweetie. And Sam… well, the doctors are still trying their best, but there hasn’t been much change.”

Three years. It’s been three years since Sam slipped into that coma. Three years of being trapped in that sterile hospital room, all because of me. My heart constricts as the familiar wave of guilt washes over me, pulling me under. I bite my lip, hard, tasting the sharp sting of pain.

“Aunty…” My voice cracks, betraying the storm swirling inside me. “Was it worth it?”

There’s a pause on the other end, a heavy silence that says more than words ever could. “What do you mean, Liessa? What are you asking?”

I let out a shaky breath, the weight of everything pressing down on my chest. “Me. Was I worth it? Sam has been lying in that bed for three years because of me. I’ve been running ever since… hiding. I am feeding off other people’s lives just to survive. First Kai… now Sam. What’s the point? I feel like… like a monster.”

My fingers instinctively drift to my side, tracing the hidden scar beneath my shirt—the delicate ‘𝒦’ tattoo etched into my skin, a constant reminder of the past I can’t escape.

Aunt Rosa is quiet for a long moment, the soft sound of her breathing is the only thing I can hear. When she finally speaks, her voice is firm but laced with emotion. “Listen to me, Liessa. You are not the monster here. You’ve been framed, hunted, and forced into hiding because of their actions—not yours. I don’t blame you, and neither would Sam. He’s fighting—I know he is—and he’ll wake up one day. And when he does, he’d be heartbroken if he knew you were giving up now. You are not the monster, sweetheart. They are. You’ve been fighting this long—don’t let them win by giving up.”

Her words cut through the numbness, but I can’t cry. I want to—I want to let everything out, but the tears won’t come. They haven’t in a long time. It’s as if the weight of everything has hollowed me out, leaving nothing behind but a shell.

“I’m tired…” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I’m tired of running, tired of hiding. I miss you. I miss Sam. I miss Mom and Dad.” The mention of my parents’ names stings, reopening the wounds that never really healed.

“I know, Liessa. We miss you too.” Her voice cracks, and I can tell she’s trying to hold herself together. “But you have to stay strong. For us. For Sam. For your parents. Promise me you’ll stay safe, okay?”

I close my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I promise. I love you, Aunt Rosa.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

The call ends, leaving me standing there in the empty hallway, staring at my phone as the silence settles back in. For a moment, I let myself drift, lost in the sea of memories and guilt that constantly swirl around me. But eventually, I push off the locker and head to my next class, forcing myself to keep moving forward, one step at a time.

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Today’s a day off from school, which means I’m up early for my shift at the café. The routine here is soothing in its own way—familiar, predictable. For a few hours, I can pretend that my life is normal.

“Good morning,” Cherry greets me as I step inside, her cheerful smile a stark contrast to the storm in my head.

“Morning,” I reply, offering her a small smile. “Which table am I starting with today?”

“Table 6,” Luciana, the café owner, answers as she emerges from the kitchen. “And if it’s not too much trouble, could you handle the desk after serving them? Something just came up.”

“Got it.” I nod, tying the apron around my waist and heading over to grab my clipboard.

I don’t look up right away as I approach the table, my eyes scanning the order sheet. “What can I get you—” My voice falters as I glance up, my words catching in my throat.

It’s them.

Brian, Asher, and Tristan.