𝐍𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘, 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 - kiara carrera²

𝒊𝒊. 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALREADY."

Tatum hadn't spoken a single word - hadn't even groaned in pain - since she left the bunker hours ago. Now, she was sitting on a plane, tied to a chair, beside a baby crib . Apparently, after his daughter murdered her husband, the mother of the baby went over to shout and scream at Nathan Quinn. So, typically, he killed her. And now he had a baby son he couldn't be bothered naming.

If Tatum could move right now, she would've reached into the crib to cuddle her brand-new baby brother. He was the cutest thing she had ever seen. His blue eyes were bright, but Tate knew that each year he lived, the colour would slowly drain. His face was thick and chubby, like a squirrel, and wet, hot tears mixed with gewy snot, from when he tried getting his father's attention, drowned it. The rest of him was wrinkly, like a little old person. Tatum almost smiled at the sight. Then, at her dad's glare, she remembered everything that was going on.

The girl wasn't sure where they were going, or for how long, but she'd never been on a plane before, and it was surprisingly more steady than being in a car.

Ward and Rafe Cameron sat near the front, watching some strange TV show Tatum didn't recognise. Growing up, the only things she was allowed to watch were thrillers, horrors and some action movies. And she never got to pick the film - Leroy and Joe constantly battled over the remote, while the twins waited for something to go on the screen. But most of the time they watched movies, they were over at Uncle Luke's house with JJ. Tatum used to think that if any of the pouges were going to save her, it would be JJ. The two had been inseparable since they were little kids, growing up in mirrored versions of the other's household. Everything they did and everywhere they went, they were always together. But even he was disgusted at the things she had done, and Tatum honestly believed she deserved that. She hurt Kiara. She deserved worse than death.

Leroy sat opposite his sister, occasionally looking up at her to see the amazing restraints he installed on the chair, but mainly played on the phone Ward bought him as part of the truce.

Nathan rested along a reclined seat in front of his daughter, watching her intently, prepared to whack her if she went out of line. He found it quite funny, actually, to see her this way. Currently, in Outerbanks, she was more famous than old Leroy, and, even dead, more feared of. But, of course, the spoiled brat didn't want any of that. She wanted to be good, which she was not. She betrayed her family. Her blood. So she needed to learn how to shut that enormous trap of hers. And this was the perfect way.

When Tatum boarded the plane, she thought the workers would've saved her, at least. But they didn't even look at her; they were suddenly blind. Wearing uniforms that promised to save the innocent people of their country, these men ignored her. Maybe it was because she wasn't innocent. Maybe it was because of the power Ward Cameron and Nathan Quinn had on everyone they ever met. Tatum had no idea, but she wanted to kill them all.

"Seatbelts on for landing," a man ordered in an almost robotic voice. Tatum recognised him. When she was leaving the car at the airline, she stared at him, her eyes desperate. And he looked back at her, but he was only looking through her. He could've saved her but he didn't, because he was scared of the men escorting her. Now, that was a pussy.

Tatum didn't know how to prepare for the landing. Considering she was quite literally tied to the chair in the most secure way possible, she assumed she'd be fine, but she had never done this before. It made her a little nervous. Normally, she would've clenched her jaw in this position, but she couldn't feel that bone anymore. If Pope was there, he'd be giving her a book's worth of information about all the ways this could go wrong and they'd die. But he wasn't there, because he didn't want to be there anymore. The pouges were better off without her - she knew that. But it still hurt. Especially when she was in a plane full of the people responsible for the deaths of John B, Sarah and Thomas. She wanted to kill them all. She imagined herself doing it. She nearly caught a smile. But she knew that if the time ever came, she'd always be too weak to go against these men. These sick, twisted men, that lock teenage girls in underground bunkers.

When the plane first begun to go down, Tatum's mouth opened and she choked on the air. Her hearing went blury but enhanced at the same time, like when you go underwater and everything is suddenly louder, but you also can't hear anything at all. Her fragile, bruised fingers slowly twisted themselves around a rope, holding on to it because she was almost certain she was about to die. This was when she actually smiled. She missed the rush, the adrenaline, the thrill, of dying. And then the wheels of the plane hit the ground, and it was all over.

Nathan Quinn laughed out loud at his daughter's reaction, like it was the most priceless thing he had ever watched. He yanked her free from her ropes, and dragged her along the aircraft by her greasy, unwashed hair.

She looked behind her before anything else, checking and making sure her baby brother was okay. He was not okay. Leroy was cradling the thing in his arms, while also swinging a knife in its face.

Tatum tried to speak. She tried to shout. But no words managed to break free out of her mouth.