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PROLOGUE

Ash

You hear stories about people returning from the dead, their lives turning around, happy that they got a second chance on this earth.

This is not one of those stories.

The moment my father shot six bullets into my body, I died.

My blood pooled on the floor, and my body grew cold as my last moments faded from my grasp. I stared up at the ceiling of a rusty old warehouse as darkness crept into the corners of my vision, and I felt relieved. There was no panic nor distress. Not even an ounce of fear. Having lived a cruel, unforgiving life that had cut my ankles at every turn and burned my hands whenever I had wished for something more, death was a blessing. One I welcomed. One that brought me peace in a way life never did.

Darkness consumed me, and my senses failed one by one until not even the distant shouts of people around me filtered into my ears. It was still, and quiet, and weightless. It was a vast void of nothing. Nothing to feel. Nothing to hurt.

Finally, it was over.

I was free.

Unfortunately, I lived.

I had opened my eyes from a coma and been told by doctors, surgeons, and the people who had gathered around me that I was lucky.

I felt everything but.

Surviving being shot six times was nothing but a cruel joke. The gift I had longed for had been snatched from me and, once more, I was thrown back into life with a few more scars than I had left with.

My enemy was still alive. I had put my one friend in jeopardy. And a man I wanted nothing to do with was hot on my tail.

With nothing but a fake name and fake identity, my safety was only a ticking time bomb. Soon, my father would find me again, and all I could do was hope that a seventh bullet would do the trick and pray that my survival had only been beginner’s luck. Because more than anything, I knew that I was not afraid to die.

I was afraid to live.

Chapter One

ASH

Run.

My feet thrashed against the floor, broken glass and sharp stones piercing through the thin soles of my crumbling shoes. Sharp air tore through my throat, my pulse pounding in my ears, and my legs threatened to topple as I forced every muscle, organ, and bone to its limit.

Faster.Faster. Faster!

I was dizzy; my lungs were faltering, my oxygen scarce.

I could not give up.

Beaming crowded stores and bright beckoning streetlights flickered past in a blur of ignored sanctuary. I did not stop.

With shouting voices on my tail, I knew they were not far behind. No shop, nor well-lit street, would protect me. If they wanted me, they would take me regardless of the cameras or witnesses. Hiding was always my only option. But right now, that was not a choice. So, I did the only thing I could.

I ran.

An alleyway loomed on my left, and I took it. My shoes almost snapped at the sharp turn, making me stumble and stagger into the humid, haunting brick hallway. It dodged harshly right, and I bulldozed towards the end, trash andpuddles torn beneath my feet as I surged forwards, hearing their chasing voices bouncing along the alleyway walls.

I turned, about to duck out of their sight as the corner crept up and—

Dread clogged my throat as I stared up at the towering brick wall blocking my exit.

“Shit,” I hissed with a panting breath, dull pain rippling along my scalp as I tugged at my wild hair. It did little to centre the growing panic making my fingers and toes numb as the sound of voices grew ever closer. The alleyway began to sway and lean towards me, the walls crawling closer and closer.

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