First Son, Cursed Son

Outlaw Justice

She wakes up to an empty bed and her first emotion is disappointment. She doesn't know what she had expected- Abel to wake her up with gentle kisses and proclamations of love? She stays curled where she is for a long moment, cataloging her feelings.

Relief. The men are dead. They will never hurt her or anyone else again. Guilt. She had killed them. She had sent them to their death. Guilt that she feels so little guilt. And above all, a certain sense of fortitude. She made it through. Today, she will be strong. Today will be ok. She pushes herself up and changes into running clothes, smiling slightly as she ties her shoes.

"Where you going?" Piper asks, as she scrolls through her music, looking for a good playlist, one earbud in and the other dangling.

"For a run." She says, without looking up. "I have way too much caged energy and now that I can finally go somewhere without a babysitter, I wanna go." She informs him.

"Maybe you should still have someone." Piper says worriedly and she looks up, exasperated.

"Pipes, in case you forgot, we murdered the men responsible for this lockdown last night. Now I'm going to run, otherwise I might scream and rip my hair out." She warns and he opens the door for her. She takes a couple steps then relents. "Here's my route." She says, scribbling it down. "I'll be back in like 45 minutes. Do not panic. Do not send a search party." She orders.

"What are you going to do, outrun us?" He calls and she flips him off as she heads down the sidewalk. Running is her drug. The repetitive slaps of her feet as she propels herself forward gives her comfort. She's still moving. She's still going forward. She's still here. So she keeps running.

She jogs home, covered in sweat, cursing the fact that she was born and raised in California. The heat is already suffocating. She winces as she pauses in the front yard, stretching out her sore muscles that are protesting her return to running. Plucking her earbuds out, she walks into the house.

"Oh my god, are you trying to kill yourself?" Ken asks her and she sticks her tongue out. "It's like 98 degrees already."

"This coming from the kid in jeans, long sleeve, and a kutte." She scoffs, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "Besides, this is going to be the hottest day this week. When else was I going to sweat?"

"Every damn day." He complains. "California is too damn hot."

"Well, blame the mother that raised us here." She says, flicking water at him. "I'm gonna shower."

"Wills." He says and she glances over her shoulder. "The club is meeting today. They want to talk to you." Her grip tightens slightly on the water bottle.

"About what?" She asks, her voice calm. He gives her the 'don't play stupid' look and she bows her head. He nods, getting up and walking out. She gets in the shower, taking her time to enjoy the cold water.

When she gets out and goes to pick an outfit, she hesitates, her hands hovering over the plain tee shirt and athletic shorts. With a deep breath, she grabs a black, lacy bra and a sheer grey shirt. She shimmies jean shorts on, grunting with effort. She walks over to her desk and rests her hands on top of it.

She yanks open the top drawer, making the stuff within rattle. She reaches inside without really having to look. She already knows what she'll pull up. A necklace with a tiny silver W on it, one she'd had since she was a baby and keeps extending the chain on. Tiny diamond studs, given to her by her grandfather Piney when she had her ears pierced as an infant. A ring that sits on her thumb, a plain band of silver with a crow engraved on the inside. One of her father's less important rings suddenly treasured after his death. And a set of silver bracelets, all engraved with different symbols.