Prologue

SHAY

"I feel like shit," I groaned, looking up at my older brother, Alister, as he paced back and forth in front of me. We'd been sitting in the mall parking lot for hours, and it was almost ninety degrees out, but I couldn't stop shaking, this icy sensation crawling up my spine.

I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to try and keep the cold from taking over.

Ah, my old-friend withdrawal.

How I haven't missed you.

The chills, the nausea, the anxiety.

"I know, Shay. I don't feel good either," Ali snapped, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands in the air. "But do you want to go home and spend another night lying awake, watching the damn clock tick? I sure as hell don't." My older brother's sharp tone hit me like a punch to the gut, and I quickly pressed my lips together and turned away.

He was right.

We couldn't go home without any money. No money meant no pills. No pills meant no sleep.

And I'd already been awake for almost forty-eight hours. My body needed to rest, but my mind wouldn't let it. Not without a little help. That resulted from years on the run, literally being hunted by a man who most would call a monster.

But who Ali and I, many years ago, called Dad.

I'm not sure what haunted me the most. The sound of him banging on the doors and smashing windows as he stalked us, showing up time and time again, threatening to kill my mom.

Or the night he showed up in absolute silence and finally followed through on the threat.

He butchered her, then ran, leaving Ali and me covered in her blood, fighting to put pressure on the stab wounds that decorated her body.

We were already battling the odds when he lit the fire. He didn't want us to make it out.

Since then, it didn't matter where we slept or which foster home we were shipped off to, I swore I still heard Dad banging on the doors and windows at night and the sounds of my mom screaming as she tried to keep him from breaking them down.

Then there was the silence. I think that was what haunted me the most.

It was relentless.

You think the yelling and screaming are bad, but in the silence and the darkness, you can't hear or see him coming, so you don't know which way to run or where it is safe to hide.

The fear he might one day come back for me had me looking over my shoulder constantly, and at night, it was almost paralyzing. I couldn't even close my eyes, petrified that when I opened them, he'd be there, looming over me.

The only reprieve came from a couple of tiny pills.

Oxycodone.

On the street, they were anywhere from thirty to fifty dollars a pill, and because neither Ali nor I had a job, there was only one way to get the money for them.

Only one way for us to get some kind of peace.

Lie, cheat, or steal.

"This one, she's it," Ali's friend, Jason, announced as he weaved toward us through a handful of parked cars. His blond hair fell into his face as he nodded toward an elderly lady across the lot who'd stopped at the rear of a sparkling blue BMW and popped the trunk. Her dress was conservative, but her shoes were designer, and the rings that decorated her hands were the kind that would be passed down to her grandkids for generations to come. "The plates are from out of state, and there was a Coach luggage bag in the back seat."

Ali slammed his hand against Jason's back and grinned. "Good looking out, man."

Jason had been Ali's best friend since we were dumped in this new town by Child Protective Services over a year ago.

He lived differently than us, his family's home on the right side of the tracks, though you'd never guess given the chaos this kid thrived on.

When things got this bad, he never offered to give us money or help us out. Jason just came along for the thrill of the ride. He was there for the adrenaline rush, and after we were done, he'd go back to his family's estate and get his housekeeper to make him a damn sandwich while Ali and I counted coins.

"You ready, drama queen?" Jason teased, his eyes alight and the smile on his face so wide it seemed almost painful.

This shit gave him life.

Hurting people and ripping them off was like his own personal addiction. While I loathed it with every part of my being, even more so because I knew I was fucking good at it.

"Don't call me that," I spat at him as I crouched down and placed my hands on the rough asphalt parking lot. I swallowed hard and held my breath as I scraped them across the gritty surface, fighting the urge to pull away as the tiny, jagged stones broke through my skin. Usually, I wouldn't put in this much effort, but a little pain now was nothing compared to what I would feel later if we didn't find the money we needed for me to get some sleep.

Jason loudly whistled when I got to my feet, shaking his head. "Don't call you drama queen?" he chuckled. "I don't know many people willing to make themselves bleed just to get a hit."

His eyes drifted to my palms, but I refused to look down at them. I felt the blood pooling at the surface of my torn skin.

"Can we just do this already?" I sneered, turning my attention to Ali, who always refused to step in when Jason and I clashed.

He looked over at the target and nodded. "She's just getting in the car," Ali announced, his brow knotting between his eyes. "You're on."

"And, action, drama queen!" Jason taunted before the boys rushed off, disappearing through the line of cars while I jogged toward the old lady in the BMW. It still looked brand new and well looked after but was old enough that it didn't have a rearview camera, which would work far better in my favor.

My palms were aching, throbbing in time with my heartbeat, though the pain still wasn't quite registering yet, thanks to that amazing thing called adrenaline. I slowed slightly, seeing her reversing lights brighten.

My timing had to be perfect.

So did my acting.

Everything relied on my ability to keep the driver's attention on the back of the car by any means necessary while Ali and Jason snatched whatever they could from inside—handbags, credit cards, cash, cell phones, whatever could be worth a little something.

It was a con we'd been pulling for months.

If everything went well, it would take less than thirty seconds.

Just thirty seconds, that's all I needed. Keep her attention, then when she turned away, run.

I held my breath as the car began to move and curled my hand into a fist before slamming it hard on the trunk and letting out a loud scream. The car jerked to an instant stop, and I dropped to my knees, holding my torn-up hands out in front of me and biting the side of my tongue so tears would spring to my eyes.

"Oh my Lord," a soft voice gasped, and I looked up to see the elderly lady standing at the rear of her car, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!"

I forced out a sob. "It hurts," I cried softly, looking down at my hands.

The damage I'd done wasn't too extensive, but it would sting for days.

She began to turn back toward the car, and my heart leaped into my throat. "I'll call an ambulance."

"No," I cried, halting her in her tracks.

Hold her there.

Just thirty seconds.

Hold her attention.

"You hit me on purpose!" I sobbed, tears streaking down my cheeks. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. Why would you run me over?"

"I didn't… I wasn't…"

"I'm just a kid!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" the woman started, though the words quickly faded away, and the shock in her face contorted more into confusion. "I'm… sor…" she mumbled, taking a step forward, then another. The second was less steady, though, and she stumbled backward into the rear of her car, using it to keep her on her feet.

My tears stopped instantly, my mouth falling open as I slowly got up off the ground.

Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

"Ali," I screamed when the woman pressed her hand to her chest and gripped her shirt. She was struggling to breathe, her chest still rising and falling but too quickly for her to be actually catching a breath. "Ali, I think she's having a heart attack!" My voice shook, and the sick, twisting feeling I'd had in my stomach before we did this had moved to my throat, choking me.

This couldn't be happening. We'd done this plenty of times. Sometimes it went wrong, and we got spotted and had to make a run for it.

But I'd scared this lady so badly, thinking she hit me with her damn car and yelling at her, blaming her for doing it on purpose, that it had sent her heart into cardiac arrest.

"I can't… what's…" the woman mumbled, falling to her knees just as Ali and Jason appeared beside me.

I rushed forward, my hands out, ready to help her, to hold her hand, to comfort her while someone called an ambulance, but Jason grabbed me, his arms wrapping around my waist. "What the hell are you doing?" I objected, kicking my feet and struggling against his hold, but he lifted my five-foot-four body off the ground and kept moving.

"Let's go!" he screamed at my brother, who seemed to be stunned, just staring at the woman on the ground as she fought for her life. "Ali, we need to go!"

"Hey, you kids! What did you do?" A man appeared between the cars, dropping to his haunches beside the woman with a cell phone pressed to his ear. "Yeah, I need an ambulance and the police." He looked up at us when he mentioned the police, and the word was like a hot poker in Ali's ass.

He moved so quickly, sprinting toward us and yanking me out of Jason's arms, almost sending me flying as he pulled me along behind him, his hand gripping my wrist so tightly I knew it would bruise, especially when I dug my heels in and jerked us to a hard stop.

He spun around, his eyes wide. "Shay! We've gotta get out of here!" he urged breathlessly.

"What if we killed her?" I croaked. "What if I killed her?"

"Oh Jesus," Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. "You're on your own with her. I'm getting the fuck out of here before the cops show up."

I huffed out a sharp laugh. "Of course, you don't give a fuck." I stepped toward him, jabbing my finger in his face. "Screw everyone else as long as you get what you want, right, Jason? It's not like you need to fucking be here. Go home to Mommy and Daddy!"

"Shay." Ali scolded, knocking my hand out of the way as he stepped between us. "This is not the fucking time!"

"Yeah, Shay," Jason mocked from behind my brother, his head tilted menacingly. "Now isn't exactly the time to get a fucking conscience. You've been ripping people off since you started obsessing over those tiny little pills. But sure, blame me if it makes you feel better about being a fucking addict."

He might as well have smacked me across the face, the word ‘addict' ringing in my ears.

I wasn't.

Was I?

Before I could comprehend the thoughts racing through my head, a whirl of sirens smothered them, and suddenly, Ali was shoving me, screaming at me to run. So I did.

The sound of the three of us pounding our feet hard against the pavement was the only thing I could hear, everything else fading into the distance. My heart raced, hammering hard, keeping me alive.

The woman lying on the ground behind me was not so lucky.

And I knew one day I would have to pay for that.