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Chased

Chapter 2

Ruby's POV

I still couldn't shake off yesterday's events. "What kind of one-night stand was that?" I wondered, frustration etched on my face. "I didn't even notice anything was wrong until I got home. I don't even know what he looked like." I scowled, tugging at my thick red curls.

“Ruby!" My younger sister's voice pierced the air, jolting me out.

"Life just isn't fair to me…" A tear escaped, and I hastily wiped it away.

"What took you forever to get here?" I flinched at her high-pitched tone.

"You're not one to ask," I retorted, crossing my arms. "I had to make tea for Mom. What do you want?"

"Clean this mess up! I'm going to bed." She commanded before turning her back to me.

I rolled my eyes, tempted to throw something at her. Instead, I began cleaning, eager for some rest before work.

Just five minutes passed before Mom's voice shattered the silence.

“Ruby! Get down here at once!"

"Great," I muttered, trudging downstairs.

"David called," Mom said, her eyes narrowing. "He said you've refused to talk to him?"

"I don't want to talk to him," I repeated.

Mom stood up, her expression stern.

"You'd better reconsider. I don't have extra cash to feed you. You're good for nothing, just like your father."

Tying her hair in a bun, she climbed the stairs.

"Think a rich guy like David would want a pig like you? You'd better suck up to him." Her voice faded.

I slumped back into the couch, feeling the familiar sting of Mom's words. "A pig like you." It hurt, but I was used to it. I'd learned to numb myself. But today, it felt like salt in an open wound.

I let my eyes drift shut, letting the tears fall. I'd cried so much, but the pain never seemed to fade.

"Dad," I whispered, his name aching in my heart. He'd left without a goodbye, without a care. I was just a child, abandoned.

My thoughts shifted to the loan sharks, Just a few days ago, they'd cornered me on the street, demanding payment.

I opened my eyes, gazing blankly at the wall. The weight of my debt, the weight of my mom's expectations, crushed me.

"What's the point?" I wondered, feeling hopeless.

But I knew I had to keep going. For myself, for my own survival.

I exhaled heavily, releasing the weight of my worries. "Worrying about this wouldn't solve anything." The night air beckoned, and I stepped out into its chill, seeking solace.

The thought of Mama Coco's warm house and the heavenly aroma of freshly baked bread made my stomach growl with anticipation. Her place was my sanctuary, where I found comfort and acceptance.

Mama Coco, with her kind eyes and gentle touch, was the only one who truly understood me. She'd taken me under her wing, treating me like the daughter she never had.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice the figure hurtling toward me.

Suddenly, a collision knocked the wind out of me. A stranger's body slammed into mine, sending me stumbling backward.

"What the...?" I crashed to the ground, the stranger's weight crushing me. A sharp object grazed my lower belly, sending a searing pain through me.

"Sorry..." the stranger muttered, before scrambling to her feet and sprinting away.

I lay there, dazed and rubbing my sore belly. "Why does everyone seem to be in such a rush? There's nothing exciting happening in this world, anyway." I was frustrated.

As night deepened, I took the shortcut, The darkness seemed to swallow me whole.

Suddenly, hushed voices and scuffling footsteps caught my attention. Curiosity piqued, I ducked behind a large trash can, peeking around its edge.

They didn't notice me, oblivious to my presence. The trash can was the perfect hiding spot sitting right at the alley's bend.

"Antonio, I would like to know what you found interesting in my city." A man's cold, calculated voice echoed off the alley walls, sending shivers down my spine.

"Mr. Ice, what wonderful hospitality you show... greeting a lowly lackey in person." Antonio's voice dripped with sarcasm, his eyes locked on the imposing figure.

Mr. Ice's gaze narrowed, his chiseled features illuminated by the flickering dim streetlight. "You've put it nicely," he said, his tone laced with venom.

He sauntered closer, his black suit blending with the shadows. A cigarette appeared in his hand, and he lit it with deliberate slowness.

"I have reasons to believe you're behind the disappearance of my men and the girls," Mr. Ice stated, exhaling smoke.

Antonio chuckled, pushing himself to his feet. "You have nothing on me." His smile was careless, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.

"I'm afraid you'll be staying in City B a bit longer," Mr. Ice drawled, his voice dripping with menace.

The men in black surrounding Antonio moved in, their faces expressionless.

"You may think you're tough," Antonio warned, "but trust me, you don't want to cross my master."

"I'd love an explanation from him. Tag him down," Mr. Ice ordered, his voice cold.

"Things are about to get heated, I should get going," I murmured, slowly backing away from the alley.

But fate had other plans.

My legs, weakened from squatting for so long, betrayed me. I lost balance and tumbled out into the open, alerting them of my presence.

I noticed Mr. Ice's expression turned glacial.

"Shit!" I cursed, scrambling to my feet as reality hit. I was caught.

Fear clawed at my chest as bullets whizzed past, their deafening cracks sending shivers down my spine. One searing pain ripped through my right arm, and I stumbled.

Panic set in, fueling my desperate sprint. My heart thundered, threatening to burst from my chest. Every pounding step felt like an eternity.

"No, no, no," I whispered, my breath catching in ragged gasps. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

Mr. Ice's command echoed through the alleys: "Find her!"

Terror propelled me forward. I wasn't ready to die.

Footsteps pounded behind me, growing louder. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, propelling me faster.

My arm throbbed, warm blood trickling down my sleeve. I dared not look back, fearing what I'd see.

Finally, my house came into view ahead. Fumbling for the lock, my shaking hands struggled to find the keyhole.

With a surge of relief, I slipped inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

I tiptoed to my room, desperate not to wake Mom or Sis. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of clothing, felt like a deafening alarm.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, a relentless drumbeat. I cringed at the sound.

Once inside, I dove under the covers, motionless, listening. But all I could hear was silence.

The darkness seemed to press in around me, making my skin prickle. I lay there, eyes wide open, until daybreak.

A sharp pain stabbed through my upper arm, drawing my attention to the bullet wound and i winced.

"Thank heavens it's just a flesh wound," I breathed, relief washing over me.

Cautiously, I rose to peer out the window. The world outside seemed tranquil, oblivious to last night's chaos.

Those men must have given up the search. I sighed, releasing pent-up tension.

With renewed calm, I began getting ready for work, my movements mechanical.

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