Chapter 5: Neck Wounds and House Guests

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

Keeley's POV

It has been one hell of a week. It's now Friday, which means one week has passed since I got to Bayside, and three days since Ryder has talked to me.

I mean, I don't get it: we were both rude, we made up, he got mad again, then I cut his neck after he scared me, and now he is completely avoiding me. Don't get me wrong, I'd be pissed too if someone put a knife to my neck and gave me a bloody nose, but with Ryder, it's just different. Yet no matter how aggravated or frustrated I am at him, I can't get those glassy blue eyes out of my head.

"Keeley, are you listening to me?" Aubrey asked while fixing her fire-like hair. I have started giving her rides home after school so she doesn't have to walk or catch a ride with one of the guys.

"Umm, maybe?" I tell her sheepishly while turning onto her street.

She gave me a pointed look while pulling her backpack onto her lap. "I asked if you were going to the football game tonight? Ya know, considering your brothers are kind of like the star players?"

"No, I don't think so," I told her as I pulled up to her bright blue Victorian house.

Her house was...quirky if you will. A large porch wrapped around the front and part of the sides of the house. The trim and doors were all purple, and a small balcony sat above the awning of the two-story house. It is definitely not for everybody, but it somehow fits Aubrey and her family perfectly.

"It's been a long week and I think I'm just going to relax at home tonight."

We said our goodbyes and I made sure she was in her house before I drove off.

***

When I parked at the house, I didn't see any cars in the driveway, which was weird because somebody is usually home.

It was strangely quiet as I entered the house, it almost felt eerie. As I walked into the living room, I saw a bright yellow sticky note on the TV.

Keeley, we won't be home till late and the twins won't be home tonight. 

Love you, Cal.

The house felt strangely cold with no one else in it. Even though the afternoon sun was shining in through the windows onto the warm-colored walls and floors, I felt a chill run up my spine. The tan sofa and fuzzy rug didn't even look warm, but rather just placed here. Not lived in, not loved, just placed.

I walk up the stairs to my room only to be surrounded by the sound of emptiness. I always say how I would just like to be alone, but in times like this, I really wish I wasn't.

The moment I opened my bedroom door, I saw Gus's head pop up from where he was lying on top of my black comforter. He lets out a small bark as his nub-like tail starts to wag back and forth.

"Vas ire foras, Gus?" I cooed to him as I patted his head. A deeper and much louder bark filled the room as I let out a small laugh.
(You want to go outside, Gus?)

I changed into some comfy shorts and one of Callan's t-shirts. I could tell it was one of his favorites solely based on how soft and worn the cotton was. The sleeves reached my elbows and the bottom touched my knees. But I didn't care, it was comfortable and nobody was home anyway.

I grabbed a couple of tennis balls and a few other toys before we headed downstairs and out the door.

As I shut the sliding door to the house, a gush of cool autumn air filled my lungs.

I'll never get over how breathtaking this view is. The skies seemed to always be blue, you know that blue that seems almost too perfect? The green grass stretched on for what seemed like forever till it reached the trees with the red, orange, and yellow leaves. A small stone path off to the left leads to the woods, eventually leading to a small garden and gazebo. This view and the scent of the fresh air, it's one of the few things I live for.

I throw one of Gus's favorite tennis balls as far as I can, and for a big dog, he seems to move with lightning speed. Once he picked it up, his pudgy frame came trotting towards me till he was sitting at my feet, staring up at me with those big, honey-colored eyes.

I remember when I first got back to Mount Reform, right after it all happened. I refused to leave my hospital room for fear that he would come back and I wouldn't be strong enough to live through it again. So they gave me Gus: a dog who was twenty pounds heavier than me that would have been killed within two days because no one wanted him. It feels like yesterday when I looked into those eyes that looked so much like my own, and in them, I found my strength. I could see myself becoming stronger and healthier. I saw someone who wouldn't leave me or betray me. I saw my best boy. I saw Gus.

I wasn't sure how long Gus and I had been playing and running around outside, but by the time we got back into the house, the sun had long since set and only a few hues of pinks and oranges remained.

I filled Gus's bowls up so he could eat and threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave. Three minutes later, the scent of buttery goodness filled the kitchen. I poured the popcorn into a bowl and made my way onto the soft sofa.

I pulled the fuzzy throw blanket off the back of the couch and turned on Say Yes to the Dress.

It was the moment I had just shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth that I saw Gus's head peek over the other side of the couch.

My father has told me multiple times that my best boy isn't allowed on the sofa, but I didn't care. I patted my leg and Gus immediately jumped onto me.

As I watched my favorite show, I couldn't help but wonder what my brothers were doing tonight and if they just happened to miss me as much as I miss them.

***

Nick's POV

I'm so fucking tired. Since 7 this morning, Finn, Callan, and I have been tagging along with my father to various meetings without many breaks. So really I'm tired and hungry. What a great mood to be in.

We all pulled into the driveway and parked in our respective spots. I stepped out and stretched my legs as I looked up to the dark sky that was littered with bright stars. That's one thing I've learned about Keeley: the stars absolutely captivate her. When she looks at them, it's as if her hard exterior melts away, and you can actually see the young girl she is.

All of us followed my father through the front door and to the living room where I could hear the TV. As I looked around, I saw Keeley curled up on the couch with Gus laying across her body. A bowl of popcorn sat half-empty on the floor and some weird bridal show was on the TV.

I watched as my dad slowly walked up to her, trying to shoo Gus off of the couch. A low growl left the giant dog as he got too close to Keeley's sleeping form.

"I told her that damn dog wasn't allowed on the couch," my father grumbled as he straightened out his suit jacket.

"Oh let her be. Barely anybody uses the couch anyway," Finn told him as he picked up the bowl of popcorn. He ignored our father's angry glares as he walked off to the kitchen.

Dad was about to speak, but he was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He grumbled yet again as he answered and left for his office.

"Should we wake her up?" Callan asked while looking at Keeley. I could see the love he had for her in his eyes.

I remember after Dad sent her away, Callan was quieter than he had ever been. He stopped hanging out with us and would barely eat. Their bond was stronger than any of us other siblings had. He would send her messages or a letter every now and then, but he was consumed in grief. He decided that the only way to get over her being away was to cut all communication with her. It was gradual, but eventually, the letters stopped and we knew nothing about what was going on in Keeley's life. I knew he felt guilty for the decisions he had made, but there was no going back now.

"No, it's okay. I'll take her upstairs." He nodded his head before walking away to find Finn. I gently nudged Gus, praying to God that he wouldn't bite my hand off. Thankfully, he got the memo on what I was trying to do and hopped off of the couch. I scooped Munch into my arms and her body snuggled closer to mine.

Gus followed right at my feet as I carried her up the stairs and into her room. I laid her down as gently as I could before tucking her in and kissing her head. Gus had taken his spot on the floor when I was about to walk out, but I stopped when I saw three picture frames on an old trunk against the wall.

I crept over to the photos to see what they were of. The first one was just her. She was in all of her gear and looked extremely strong like no one could ever touch her. Her eyes were radiating with confidence, but her face gave no inclination that that's how she actually felt. I wonder what happened to the girl in the photo. It isn't that she's weak now, but her golden eyes look weary and hurt when she thinks no one is watching. I don't think anybody else notices, but it is all I can see, mostly because I do the same. It breaks me to see how not only am I closed off and always hiding my true feelings, but she is too.

The next photo is of her and whom I now know to be Phillips. His arm is pulling her tight into his side as smiles are spread across both of their faces. From what little knowledge he gave me when I called him, Keeley used to be violent and angry towards everything and everyone, so he showed her how to play the piano and paint. She was apparently skeptical and hated the idea at first, but after a while, it was like she had been doing this her whole life. As to who he is, the Sergeant told me he only knew very little and that Keeley should be the one to tell me, not him. I should just watch for anything weird. Great advice, really.

The last picture had her and four other people in it: two boys and two girls. What struck me most though, was that none of these people, Keeley included, looked like the "troubled" kind. Each of them was laughing and had carefree grins plastered on their face. And Keeley- Keeley looked happier than I had ever seen her. Her smile was radiant against the sun and the blue sky as she held tight to the boy whose back she was on. The dark-haired boy was leaning his head into hers, and you could tell that their relationship was different. It looked as if all their trust was in each other. Who was he? And more importantly, what happened to that Keeley?

"Nick?" Callan's strangely deep and raspy voice spoke, startling me from my thoughts as I almost dropped the frame. I set it back down gently before walking into the hallway and closing Keeley's door tightly.

"What?" I ask in a hushed voice so I don't wake Munch.

"Dad wants us in his office. He isn't happy."

I lead us down the stairs and to his office. I knock three times and enter without getting a response.

When we enter, I can see my father sitting in his high-back leather chair in front of the one bulletproof window. Two small lamps sat on each of the front corners of his dark mahogany desk. Tall bookcases cover the wall to the right as a fireplace sits on the one to the left. I see Finn already sitting in one of the smaller leather chairs in front of the desk, so I take the other one while Callan stands behind us.

"What is it?" I ask in a somewhat aggravated tone. I'm hungry and tired, not a good mix.

"Do not use that tone with me, Nicholas. As the future Capo of this organization, I would expect some respect." His piercing cold eyes stared at me with mild anger before he begins again.

"We have to call off tomorrow's raid. Six of our men came down with the flu, and we don't have time to prep six more." His eyes were wild as his face remained calm.

I let out a frustrated groan as I abruptly stood up out of my chair. I closed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair as I paced back and forth. We had been planning this raid for months. Ceaser Chavez ran a small cartel that had been supplying our shipments of narcotics. Well, that was until we noticed that some of our product had been missing, and it turned out to be Chavez. Tomorrow, we were supposed to raid his main house, kill him and everyone inside, and steal back two shipments of weapons for our ally.

"We can't fucking cancel it! I'll go over there myself and force them to be ready if I have to!" I knew I was shouting because now my father was standing up as well.

He slammed his hands on the table. "We are not carrying on with this, Nicholas! I have already discussed it with the Moretti's, and they agree. When they get here tomorrow, we will decide on what to do." The Moretti's were our Italian allies. My father and the Capo of the Angeli dell'Inferno, Stefano Moretti, have always been close. The weapons we were to retrieve tomorrow were theirs.
(Angels of Hell)

It went quiet and all you could hear was mine and my father's heavy breathing as our eyes screamed at each other. It was silent for a moment before Finn's softer voice spoke up.

"Well, what if Keeley went? She did manage to take down 26 men by herself. Not to mention she did perform various tasks at Mount Reform." Finn's eyes looked optimistic, but that was cut short when Callan's voice boomed throughout the room.

"She is not going! It is not safe, she's not trained enough, and a raid should not be her first task!" Callan was furious. I could see how he was tightening his fists at his sides as his face turned red and the veins in his neck were pulsing.

"She is trained, Callan. It's not a bad idea," I tell him while lowering my voice. His eyes grow crazy as he turns to me.

"She will get killed if she goes in," he continues to yell.

"That is enough, Callan!" my father shouted back. He looked at Callan with his signature death stare. "Tomorrow, you and Nick will escort her to the Chavez residence. Nicholas, you will wake her up tomorrow morning and brief her on her job. Callan, you will go and put up no further argument. Finnegan, you, Samuel, and Donovan will stay here to help me welcome the Moretti's. That is final."

Cal stormed out of the room and I could hear his thick-soled boots go all the way up the stairs and into his bedroom. I gave my father a slight nod before both Finn and I left the room. No words were spoken between us until I had just opened the door to my bedroom.

"Do you think she will really get killed tomorrow?" Finn asks with worry weaved in his voice.

"She'll be just fine. She knows how to handle herself." He gives me a slight nod before closing his door behind him.

I hope I'm right.

***

Keeley's POV

I am pissed.

I'm currently standing in front of my mirror at who knows how early in the morning because Nick woke me up this morning to tell me I was going on a raid. I wasn't mad because of the raid. I actually quite enjoy a good murder in the morning if it's to the right people. But I am pissed because he woke me up by throwing me into an ice bath.

I don't mind water when I am showering, but at any other time, I hate it. I'm terrified of it. So yeah, I'm about ready to beat somebody's ass right now.

I take one last look at myself in the mirror: black cargo pants, black long sleeve shirt, hair slicked back into a low bun, heavy boots, and my machete and gun strapped to my thighs. I let my eyes turn cold and darker than I'd prefer, but it is necessary. My face goes stoic and I allow no emotion to be shown.

I walk downstairs and every move I make is calculated and precise. I'm no longer Keeley, I am Private Keeley Harris, soldier 237449.

***

I was sitting in the back of a heavily armored van with eight other men, just waiting to attack. It's a 45-minute drive to the Chavez estate and the only thing that was going through my mind were the orders Nick had given to me:

"Enter through the front door of the house after the door to the van is open. Head up the stairs and go to the right immediately and go down the hallway. Turn left at the next corridor and enter the double doors at the end of the hall. Inside is Ceaser Chavez. Kill him and anybody who gets in your way. Once Chavez is dead, get out and sit in my car till I get there. Don't let me down, Keeley."

***

"We've arrived. The moment the door opens, exit immediately, and follow the orders you have been given." Nick's voice rang through my earpiece as the back of the van opened.

Go.

I immediately jumped out of the van and sprinted in the front door while unholstering my gun. I shot three people through the head. I could see men scattered throughout the main floor as the scent of lead and blood filled my nose. I could feel my adrenaline pumping.

I sprinted up the stairs to the right and turned towards the right hallway as Nick had instructed. Six men stood shoulder to shoulder with their weapons drawn. But when they saw me, a look of surprise and amusement crossed their faces. Hesitation.

"Gentlemen, I hate to do this, really I do, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you." I let out a small chuckle as my eyes narrowed in on their large frames.

"Oh, sweetie, this isn't a place for little girls. Why don't you go home to Daddy dearest?" All of the men let out a loud laugh as their attention to me wavered. Big mistake.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Six bullets. Six dead. I walk past them and over their now-dead bodies. They underestimated me, and I hate it when people do that. That's what gets you killed.

I continue down the hallway until I get to the next corridor. I put my gun back in its holster and unsheath my machete, deciding to get a bit more...personal.
I still do, however, find it odd that I'm left-handed but prefer my right for knives.

I step around the corner and let the darkness inside of me take over: the part that loves to kill, that thrives at the sight of blood, the part that likes to hurt other people.

I come face to face with twelve men and don't hesitate to charge forward. With one swift motion, I take the first guy's head off with one clean sweep, and it doesn't stop there. As the rest come at me, I make no mistake with slashing and stabbing the others. Every mark, every wound I inflict causes my blood to pump faster and for my movements to become more precise. In a matter of what feels like seconds, all twelve men lay dead at my feet. I wipe the blood that had splattered across my face off with my sleeve. One of them had managed to get a hit directly to my eye, and I could feel my eye starting to swell. I could tell my hair had come undone from

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net