Page 1 of Riot

PROLOGUE

RIOT

Agefifteen

I stare down at my father’s lifeless body. Dread floods through me, but not for the dead bastard lying in front of me. For my mom. My sister. I’ve shot a gun plenty of times on the farm, but I’ve never turned the gun on an actual person before.

I thought I’d feel different.

Shaky.

Nervous.

Afraid.

But I didn’t have time for any of those emotions. I acted on instinct. My beautiful, long-suffering mother is dead because of him, and then he turned the gun on my sister, Lace. My mom’s body in her bed, my sister…

“Myles.”

My heart leaps in my chest. “Lace!” I sprint toward the back porch, where my sister was sitting reading before my dad started his shooting spree. I checked her before… My legs can’t carry me fast enough. “Oh my God, Lace!”

I pull her into my arms as I check her vitals. She’s weak, but she’s alive. I lay her back down, the gunshot wound is right above her heart, but clearly it missed. Still, blood pools around her white tank and she’s pale, really freaking pale.

I gently place her back down in the chair and run to the phone. I’m about to call 911 when the front door to our home burst open.

“What the—” Charles Carlton’s voice trails off. “Melissa? Kids? Jesus, fuck!”

“Charles?” I stammer. He’s our neighbor, he must’ve heard the gunshots.

“What the fuck happened?” he barks.

“Dad.” I manage. “He… I got home and he was loading the shotgun, then he went out and… Lace is… she’s still…” I can’t even finish. I heave, unable to take it anymore.

“Call an ambulance, boy.” He stalks off, stepping over my dad’s body to the back porch. I hear him cuss as I dial and do exactly what he says. Now my hands are shaking. My sister is still breathing, and after what that monster did, it’ll be a miracle if she survives this.

“Myles, come out here.” I do as he says. Charles is hovering over my sister's body, pressing a piece of the blanket she was wrapped in on her shoulder. “Hold the pressure there. Your mother?”

I shake my head. He runs a hand over his face.

“I killed him,” I say, like it isn’t obvious. Dad didn’t shoot himself in the head with his own gun. “My dad.”

Charles grunts. “Best place for ’im is six feet under.”

It’s no secret my dad and Charles never got along. In fact, in one of my dad’s drunken rages he accused my mom of having an affair with Charles, which wasn’t true. My mom, for whatever reason, was loyal to my dad. He just didn’t like it that she was pretty and other men took notice.

I swallow hard. “What do we do now?”

His fierce eyes find mine. “You wanna go into the system?”

I frown. “The system?”

“Cops are gonna be here soon, they’re gonna see the carnage. They’re gonna have questions. It’s self-defense, but you’re not an adult yet.”

“I’m sixteen in four weeks.”

He shakes his head. “You go to school?”

I’ve never liked school, but I drag my sorry ass there most days. When my dad needed me, I stayed at home to work on the farm. “Yeah, but I hate it.”

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