𝐍𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘, 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 - kiara carrera²

𝒙𝒍. 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME?"

Three things happened after Renfield made his statement. Three things that made Tatum Quinn give in and go with him.

All three things were arrows.

Arrows that did not hit her.

No, all three hit Kiara. And if Tatum wanted to save Kiara before the last was aimed at her skull, she had to follow Renfield. Now matter how many times her friends pleaded her to stay, Tatum wasn't going to let another blade touch her girl.

So, here she was. Back at the Limbrey mansion. With no meds and absolutely no friends. No one to trust.

Carla laughed lightly, leaning forward on her crutches to inspect the face of her furious daughter. "Isn't it obvious?" she said, her voice as deathly and wheezy as Tatum remembered.

"Why would I ask you if it was obvious?" the girl retorted with a teenager's attitude, arms crossed, feeling the deep loss of her missing gun.

"You're a killer, Tate," Limbrey stated, limping towards her daughter with a grave smile. She lifted one arm in the air and played with the girl's silky hair, causing her to glare even more. "And I've made a lot of enimies."

Tatum raised a brow. It wasn't often she came to an understanding when things weren't said outright, she had never been very good at connecting the dots, but when it came to murder, she was all up on it. "You want me to be an assassin?"

"Exactly."

"Do I get paid?" she asked quickly. Too quickly.

Carla smiled at her eagerness, still playing with the brunette's thin, shiny hair. "Of course."

Arms still crossed, Tatum thought about it for a moment. Yes, her mother was pure evil, but killing people for dough sounded more advertising than she'd like to admit.

But her friends - but her friends were safe and away from it all now. If they were smart, they'd stay away from the gold and everything that was linked to the Royal Merchant.

She craved the kill. She craved the screams. She craved the blood. And she craved the guts.

A killer - that was what she was.

Then, just as quickly as she lost them, Tatum gained back her senses and shot a mean scowl at the woman, grabbing her light wrist with strength, forcing it away from her face.

Tatum stepped closer to the woman she used to call her mother. A devilish grin grew on her face, one that doubled the image of her recently deceased father.

She moved closer and closer until she could taste the mint on Carla's breath. "If I'm killing anyone, it's gonna be you," she spat, voice laced with poison and a threat nobody in the mansion took lightly.

Carla sighed, feeling no fear for this teenage girl. Powerful as she was, Tatum Quinn's stupid strength had nothing on her piles of strategic specie.

Just one click of her fingers and a limp Tatum was being dragged out the room by four guards, a needle hanging out of her neck. Once again, she was trapped in the haunted house.

Pay or no pay, willingness or no willingness, Carla Limbrey would have her teenage assassin, and everyone would quake at her name. Nobody would be able to stop her. She would get the cross. She would be healthy again.

a/n: short chapter but im trying to make up for the lack of updates ive been giving you this week