"𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦... 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯."
Novalie Bishop has mastered survival, forever escaping from a violent past that haunts her. With no other choice, she accept...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶
It was disgusting, being a sappy hopeless romantic.
Still... give me a cheesy romance novel and I'll devour it.
I've always been a practical person, hardened from the realities of life and its unbiased treatment towards everyone. Yet inside, resting in deep slumber, was a fleeting light of thoughts manifested into feelings no organ could ever handle. Not even my own heart. I'd like to think about that specific part as a person's soul, unseen and hiding away until it finds another to latch onto.
Again, Iwas thinking silly thoughts.
Brown eyes widened as a large pickup truck abruptly cut off my motorcycle—honed reflexes barely saving me. I grimaced, knowing that the erratic pull reopened messy stitches from earlier.
A wavering exhale escaped. "You gotta' be shitting me."
The highway was ripped apart by a screaming engine, howling in distress as it flew on mere drops of gasoline. An even louder noise came from inside the rider's helmet, a muffled cry that begged for an end.
It was tempting, going splat on the side of a nearby building.
I abruptly steered left and into the main city, maneuvering through scattered traffic without caution. High-rise buildings loomed over in shiny blurs, neon lights reflecting and bouncing off my visor. It was all ignored as more blood oozed from my side. Teeth clenched as I gripped the handlebars tighter, unable to shake the sick feeling of dread.
Like no matter how far I run, those bastards would always catch up.
This morning's disaster haunted me, with regulars asking for unreasonable amounts of money and the orphanage finding new ways to ruin an already stressed schedule. But the normalcy was broken once I overheard illegal matters involving my rights as a person, not at all meant for eavesdropping ears. I would have been sedated and bound inside the back of a trunk by now, and that fact alone made my body shake uncontrollably.
Feeling rough hands grabbing hard enough to bruise, the glint of a knife and men pushing me towards an unknown car...
Someone honked as my bike made its way off the main road; any usual sass was absent, too weak to even give him the bird. The engine was kicked off as I parked at a nearby gas station, removing my helmet and scuffing up dark hair. Beaten up boots scraped across concrete as I dragged myself to a pump and filled the near empty tank.
I frowned at the sparse amount of cash in my pocket, forever dwindling from the short amount of income I managed to make.
