Prologue
Nothing had gone right that night. That was the first thing that popped into Ashtyn's mind as she tried to fight off the arm that grew increasingly tighter around her neck. Clawing at the forearm she tried to pull it down, angling her neck down to try and bite him. He pushed the gun harder into her side and she hurt the soft 'click' of the safety going off. She stilled as she watched the other side of the room. Her father stood in the small crowd, no more then ten people in the room. Guns drawn and pointed at the man who held her.
They were in a stand off. Her life in the balance of it all. He could easily shoot her, and if any of them tried to shoot him they could hit her in the process. A casualty. The faces of her sisters flashed in front of her as fear hit in her chest. A lone tear streaked down her cheek from her eyes as they flashed wildly around. Waiting for someone to do something.
He dragged her back, closer to the back door. Her dad watching, whispering to the others. She didn't know what he had planned, he barely let her in on the ideas. She was supposed to take over for him and he barely let her in the meetings, on runs, to be known as his daughter. Her half brother Chris stood on the left side of their father. He was only 3 months younger then her. A result of her father and mothers break up before her mother found herself pregnant with his child and they got back together.
If Ashtyn died - Chris would be the next in line.
The thought made her stomach turn and snapped her out of her thoughts. He backed up a few more feet before the gun on her side eased a bit. His arm loosened on her neck an inch. He was going to run once he got to the door.
In one motion she pushed his right hand to the side and pulled his arm down from her neck. Leaning forward for momentum, she slammed the back of her head into the side of his face before she took off running forward. She ran zigzag and towards the side to give her father and people a chance to shoot.
Shots fired from both sides of the warehouse. She covered her ears and took cover behind a few crates, waiting for it to be over.
A minute later it seized and she waited.
"Ashtyn?" A voice called out, her father. His voice rough and gravely from the years of tobacco smoke and whiskey. Ashtyn stood, her legs wobbly after the events. She tried to walk straight but her legs shook, her back began to throb in pain and she let out a hiss and she touched her lower back. When she pulled her hand back, it came back with blood.
Her face paled as she looked at the dark crimson staining her skin. "I'm over here," She called out weakly and took a few more steps.
Darrin, once of her fathers friends, was the first to find her. Lowering his gun as he took in her position. Hand covered in blood, panting and sweat dripping from her head.
"She's over here," He called out to the others. Holstering his gun, he came closer and took her by the arm gently. Her father was the next.
"I think I was shot," Ashtyn said plainly, showing her red hand. Her father's relieved expression wiped from his face as he took her in his arm bridal style. Calling out orders for the others.
The ride home was chaos - she was laid on her stomach in the van. People fussing over her and placing pressure on the wound. She hissed whenever the van went over a bump which got the driver a few threats from her father.
She laid there, focusing on breathing, on staying awake. On not dying so her half brother couldn't ever touch the empire she was supposed to get. Her father might not have liked having a daughter for a first born but he was a man of honor and tradition. And he married her mother and she only gave him daughters. He trained Ashtyn like a son. he didn't give her days off, he pushed her to her limit and even then pushed well past it.
They reached back to their fortress, which was another rundown warehouse. At least on the outside. The inside was better, not by much. They had dim electricity and rugs covering the cement flooring. Not many people stayed in the warehouse. They had families to go back to at night.
They brought her in and set her on a table, calling for the house doctor to come and see her. She wasn't sure how they had gotten a doctor involved with what they did, but she knew they paid him well. And money could solve most issues.
She heard the screams of her mother and sister when they found out what happened. The screams echoing through the facility. Her heart beat flooded her ears, peoples voices drained out. She couldn't hear anything and her legs were starting to tingle.
A tiny prick on her arm drew her attention and the doctor placed an IV in. A few minutes later she passed out.
"She could have died, Damien." Ashtyn's mother, Iris, voiced angrily. "Do you not care that she could have died?"
"Of course I do," He replied, his voice low. They stood in his office, the dimmed lights hiding his shelfs of books and documents. His desk scattered with papers. The Vault sat at the far end, extending into it's own room. The mob didn't use banks for their money. So they had to build something for themselves.
"The Doctor is working on her now, we won't hear anything for a few hours. Do you want a drink?" He offered her while pouring one himself. She nodded and he poured her a drink.
"Thank you," She whispered as she took the drink, plopping down in a seat across from him. They were both 37, though only Iris looked like it. The years with the Mafia had drained Damien, he looked more like he was in his mid-fifties. His short beard littered with grey hairs and his hairline receding rapidly.
They sat like that for a half an hour, gently sipping on their whiskey, refilling once it was empty.
"Honestly, I just don't know what you were thinking? Putting her in that position?" Iris slurred a bit, not drunk enough to say anything she couldn't take back.
"She wanted to go. This is the risk with the job. If she is going to be taking over for me then she needs to go." his voice was loud and harsh. Iris flinched slightly, "She's seventeen, she won't be taking over for you until you die. Which won't be for years." She shot him a dark glare. "She's a child and doesn't need to be going on these little 'missions' you have."
"We don't know when I will go, it's better she learns now and knows then someone kills me tomorrow and she has no fucking clue what she is doing," His voice was cold but honest and he looked at her. Her hair was a long dark brown, her eyes seemed void of emotions and dark circles lingered under her eyes.
He remembered seeing her for the first time. It was the night he had snuck out of his house to see a party. He spent the entire night with her, slipping out of the party and going around town talking. Her eyes had been so full of light, of ideas and plans.
He shuttered slightly, remembering the beating he took once he got back home.
"She'll be fine. The doctor said the bullet missed her spine. She shouldn't have any long term effects from this." He muttered the last part into his glass as he took another long sip, ignoring her scoff.
"She was shot, surely there is going to be some traumatic effect from this." Iris crossed her arms and sunk lower into her seat.
They sat like that for another hour - waiting to hear any news. But everyone remained tight lipped.
"I'm going to check on Avery," Iris said suddenly. She stood up and brushed invisible dust off of her pants. Avery was their second child, a more tamed version of Ashtyn. She had gotten into athletics at a young age. She had no desire to be apart of the family she was born into but yet here she was. Waiting for some sort of escape. Now she spent her night in her bed, waiting for any news of her older sister.
Avery was only a year and a half younger at fifteen, a product of her father wanting a son. Though they stopped after the youngest sister Lizzy was born. Iris was tired of raising infants and pregnancy was horrible on her body and mind.
Avery sat in the middle of her bed when she heard the a knock at the door. She glanced slightly, drawing in a breath as she called out for them to come in.
"Hey darling," Her mothers voice slipped into the room as she opened the door, shutting it quietly behind her. "How are you holding up?"
Iris moved swiftly across the dim room, a desk sat in the corner of the room, cluttered with papers. Trophies sat upon the top of her dresser, Medals hung on the walls along with famous athlete posters. Clothes were flung across the room and on the floor. A pair of bats sat in another empty corner, with a few other pieces of equipment.
"I'm fine," Avery muttered as she picked at a loose string on her blanket.
Iris studied her daughters somber face.
"Ashtyn is going to be just fine," She reassured, placing a hand on Avery's shoulder.
"It's just, I didn't expect that she would actually get shot. She was excited Dad was letting her go in the first place," Avery remembered when Ashtyn had burst into her room only a few hours earlier bragging that their father had finally agreed to take her with him on a run. She had a wild expression on her face, a smile that was ear to ear. Avery smiled at the memory.
"What happens if she doesn't make it?" Avery's voice cracked on the last few words, a tear leaking from her eye, her lower lip trembling. Iris sighed, hating seeing her daughter this distressed.
"She won't. Ashtyn's just about as stubborn as your father. It's not her time to die yet," She brushed Avery's hair out of her face and wiped the tear strolling down her cheek. Avery's lips twitched up slightly.
"I think she's more stubborn then both of you," Avery replied lightly, Iris laughed.
"You might be right about that,"
"Does Lizzy know?" Avery asked, thinking about their twelve year old sister. Iris shook her head, "No reason to include her unless something bad happens. You know how she is,"
Avery nodded, their younger sister struggled with anxiety terribly. Often checking in on their family, worried about their safety. Panic attacks when something bad had happened.
"Remember when your Uncle Jim was shot?" Iris reminded, the memory bloomed into Avery's mind. Uncle Jim was one of their father's friends. He had been shot last May and almost died. Lizzy had just about lost her mind, a ball of sobs on the floor. Iris had tried to help her but nothing seemed to work. Her sobs could be heard through the entire building.
They tried to get her on medication but she refused. She wanted to deal with it herself, but it seemed she was losing her battle with it. The daily needs of reassurance and constant questions on if she was doing right by her family. They all tried their best to help her, but it only seemed to be getting worse.
Iris sighed, looking at the state of her daughters. A fate that she herself had tried to escape. But she had fallen in love with the wrong man and as much as she wanted too, she knew she couldn't leave with all three of her children. Not without him hunting them down.
So she decided to start making a plan.
A/N
I'm back. Sorry I've been gone for so long. Life got busy, I'm in my early twenties and trying to get my shit together. I forget how much writing eases my mind. Hopefully y'all like this start to the edits. I'm trying to do more on here. Also this one will be a bit more graphic, so be aware.
Thanks!
A. Moon.
