𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 { 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 | 𝟏 }

Chapter 3:Ride

I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy

I'm tired of driving 'til I see stars in my eyes

All I've got to keep myself sane, baby

So I just ride, I just ride

-Lana Del Rey (Ride)

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Kora pov

Father would sometimes call me a coward. The first few times he called me that, I didn't understand why. I wasn't running away from something. I wasn't shunning away from any type of danger. But as I grew older, I began to understand why. It was the stupidest reason why he gave me the nickname as well.

It was because I'd storm out of meetings, to avoid my responsibilities.

I guess he thought that running away from responsibilities is the exact same thing as running away from problems. But, then again...I've always found a majority of my responsibilities to be problems in their own way. I guess it's what people call "procrastination". Well, either way, I consider myself to be a professional procrastinator.

Anyway, that's what I was doing right now: running away from my responsibilities.

"Lady Kora, what vehicle would you like to request today?" Napier, our engineer, asked. I gave Napier a smirk, "Have you forgotten?" I asked. Napier smirked, "You've always been a Camaro girl." I smirked, and followed the old man.

The only two people who I really am close with in this prison, is Anahera and Napier. Anahera has pretty much been my Mother all my life. I never considered any of Father's past flings to be my Mother, because they always either: treated me like shit, tried to change me, never talked to me. Besides, I always knew that right after Father married the woman, she'd run away a few months later. Because of that, I've only ever trusted Anahera with my secrets. Besides, she's promised to take me to her home country, New Zealand one day.

Napier, may be an old codger, but boy does he sure know his stuff on cars. I remember him showing me pictures of these old 1920s cars in the Art Deco days, and him telling me how different parts of the cars work. He'd always let me help him with repairing stuff. And he'd cover for me whenever I decide to go on an adventure.

My eyes lit up when I saw the black 1969 Chevrolet Camaro. It was beautiful. I'd marry this car if I could. Napier handed me the keys, "She's all fixed up as well. No more of that breaking down nonsense." I gave him an innocent smile, "You're the best, Napier!" He gave a hearty laugh, "So long as you don't get in trouble! Now off you go!"

I was pretty much in the car within seconds. I jammed the key in the ignition, twisted, and the car roared to life. A smirk was plastered on my lips, as the large garage door creaked open. I slammed my foot on accelerate, and I was out of there before you could blink an eye.

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Thatch pov

In my mind while this whole scenario was going down in front of me, the only thing I thought was:

'Why doesn't Akira just order the guards to stop her? Why doesn't he stop her himself?'

But, because Akira was cussing like a devil with no leash, I didn't say anything. The Old Man still seemed confident, despite that chick straight up yelling and running. Sometimes I'd try and catch his eye, but it seemed like he wasn't paying attention.