After the death of her mother, Rya, a sixteen year old girl, sets out to find her father, who she had not seen in fifteen years due to her mom's paranoia and desire to protect her.
The two finally find each other again. But, danger is always lurkin...
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"YOU TOLD ME YOUWOULDN'T do this!" shouted the person on the other side of the phone, causing Rick alfonso to heave out an exasperated sigh.
He was tired, exhausted even.
The man had been busy the whole day restoring the pieces of his broken gang back together. It had been a successful yet tiring day and the last thing he needed was that certain individual yapping his ear off with things he didn't and couldn't possibly begin to care about.
"Frankly, I do not care what I did or did not tell you. It'll be wise for you to stay in your fucking lane yeah? You're in no position to be raising your voice at me." He sneered as authoritatively as he could.
"And, I'm a criminal for god's sake, did you really think I would play by the rules?" Alfsonso let out a dry chuckle, finding it rather amusing that a person would put even a semblance of trust on his behalf.
Though he seemed to be the only one entertained by that.
"Fuck you" The voice hissed in his ear before cutting the call. Rick rolled his eyes before going back to what he was doing; drugs.
With the help of his credit card, he formulated lines of the white powder before him, arranging them in an orderly fashion, before sniffing two with a rolled up piece of paper.
The sight made the woman sitting next to him salivate, wanting a snif of it too. She greedily took the makeshift straw from his hands before giving him a sultry look, hoping to look somewhat sexy so that he would forgive her for taking without asking.
He shook his head in annoyance at the woman but let her be nonetheless, the drugs in his system relaxed him, made him exhilarated. Not an ounce of care now stood inside his body.
°°°
Rya bad barely slept that night. She was embarrassed to admit that nightmares had plagued her sleep, images of scenes of the past made their way past her defences when she was most vulnerable and could not shake them away.
They had started a while back, though she never seemed to remember what they were about when she woke up. She couldn't for the life of her, conjure up what she had going on inside of her wonderful mind while unconscious, not matter how hard she had tried.
Yet, for some reason, that night, she was able to remember.
She remembered vividly the sight of her 'uncle', lying there, in a pool of his own blood. An image her subconscious had tried to erase from its memory for her own good.
