CHAPTER TWO:
High School.
Overrated on so many levels.
So, me? I don't go. You'd think a mother would care. Nope, she's gone.
Now, it's me and Matthew. He's such an amazing teenager, but, God love him, he's an idiot. Cool as hell, Matthew is, but a fucking moron. The kid has talent and built like a brick house. Decent shooter too.
So, you're probably wondering who I am and what the hell is going on. Well, first let me explain something.
I am KyaMariana Tatiana Von Ivashkov.
But call me Kya.
Long name for a simple normal girl, right?
WRONG.
I am neither simple nor am I, even though I wish I was, normal.
I am the Russian drug lord's daughter, whose father banished his family from Russia when I was only 11 years old. Soon after my sixteenth birthday, mom disappeared and we've been alone ever since.
Our mother taught us everything we know (fighting wise) since we moved here. She taught us exactly what we needed to know about the "family business" because my dearest darling Mommy was the Italian mafia boss's daughter. Shunned for loving a Russian. Especially THAT Russian.
But, Mom was young, dumb, and stupid and married the guy. Mom swore he was different. Mom promised he loved her and us.
Mom was wrong.
So, where am I now? At Brandyn Trevor Mitchell's funeral. Standing against my dark charcoal colored sport motorcycle, watching his family lay his dark brown wooden coffin six feet under. I'd be closer but no one wanted me here. I didn't even want to be here. I shouldn't have to be here. And neither should Brandyn.
I took a deep breath, took a quick last drag of my cig and mounted the bike. I wrapped my hair in a big bundle on top of my head and shoved on my helmet. Its power rumbled beneath me as I sped off for my house.
I pulled up into the driveway and a silver mustang was parked next to my brother's new jeep I bought him for his birthday. We may have no parents, but that doesn't mean we don't have money. We had more than we could spend to be honest.
I ran inside, worried as hell, and didn't even think about taking off my helmet. I opened the door with a huge bang and ran into the living room where I heard voices.
"What the hell is going on here?" Matthew asked me confused why I was running in like a crazy person. I ripped off my helmet and looked at him in shock.
"Are you fucking serious?" I yelled at him. I looked around and realized, we had company. Three teenage boys were lounging all around my living room that I'd never seen before. And to say the very least, I was not fucking happy.
My long black wavy hair was flowing around past my shoulders and I cocked and eyebrow at my brother. He smiled his very genuine smile at me and got off the couch.
He put his arm around me and looked at the guys looking at me in awe and slight interest. I mentally gagged myself.
"Guys, this is my badass sister, KyaMari-" I gave him a death glare as he was about to say my real first name. He stopped and smiled.
"I'm Kya. Nothing more, nothing les. You touch me, I will kill you. Now, get out." I pointed to the still open door and waited for the boys to move. Not a budge. Scared stiff, I suppose.
Matthew pulled me away from the boys and into the kitchen. "Ky, relax. These are just the guys from the football team. You know...from...uh...school?" He whispered to me so they wouldn't be able to hear.
"YOU ENROLLED YOURSELF IN SCHOOL?! WHEN?!" I exclaimed in what I tried to make hushed tones. I was engulfed in anger.
"Sis, chill the fuck out. I've been enrolled since September when Mom signed us up before she...well, yeah. And I've been going on and off. I need help to get over Mom."
"WHAT AM I HERE FOR THEN?!" He could talk to me! Now, all of a sudden, I'm not good enough?!"
"KYA! Listen. You know, I love football. And I'm really good. You know it gets rid of the anger. And you know I could stand to learn some things. Just because your Superwoman doesn't mean I'm Superman."
The last sentence hit hard. Harder than a high kick to the side of my face. It hit my heart. And nothing's done that in a very very long time.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. His dark blue eyes that were just like mine were filled with wishful thinking. I saw how badly he needed this. These boys, people to talk to, that school, that sport.
"Okay," I whispered. It was barely audible, but he was trained to hear things like that.
"Yeah?" He replied hopefully
"Yeah," I finally agreed. "But, don't you dare make me regret it or I'll kick your ass."
Matthew let a grin spread across his face then he kissed my forehead. He stood a half a foot taller than me which made him just about six foot. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and we walked back into the living room.
"Ahem," I coughed to draw their attention away from the football game on the big screen. I looked at my brother, he wanted me to apologize. "Uh...yeah, sorry for scaring the shit out of you guys." That was the best I could do for now.
"Its no problem. I'm Adam," First to address me was a blond haired, blue eyed, all American idiot who called form the love seat.
Next.
"I'm Collin." Then was a brown haired, brown eyed, built like Matt, dumb ass who called from the couch. He'd been eyeing me since I walked in the house. Perv.
Next.
"And I'm Viktor. Vick for short. But honestly I couldn't give a damn what you call me." Viktor was stretched out on the lazy boy, but was not reaching out his hand. I took it with my leather gloved hand and shook it. I hadn't realized I still had my riding gear on. I slipped off the gloves and threw them on the coffee table.
I looked back up at Viktor and he looked vaguely familiar. I eyed him up and down and tried focusing on his lips.
That crooked smile...where have I seen that? Where have I seen that before? I racked my brain. Trying to focus. I came up blank.
"What's you last name, kid?" I asked hoping that my jog my memory.
"Petrov. Viktor Petrov." He smiled another smile and that's when it hit me.
"Any relation to Feliks Petrov?" Say yes and you're dead.
"Nope," Viktor replied. "Never heard that name in my life."
Smart boy. Bad liar.
"Huh? Never heard of him? He's pretty famous around here. You look a hell of a lot alike. Hm, no matter. I'm seeing him tonight anyway." I winked at Viktor who's face hardened than he looked away.
With that, I turned on my heel and walked out of the house. I mounted my bike. I slipped on my helmet and I was ready to go after Feliks. It's been two years since I've seen him. I wonder if he's still trying to kill me. For Viktor's sake, I hope not. Because if he touches my brother.
Blood will shed. And it won't be mine.
