Page 1 of Screamer
PROLOGUE
SCREAMER
I found my people that night, along with my purpose.
Eighteen years old…
“Where will you go?”
I stare at the manila envelope in my hand, the lawyer’s question going in one ear and out the other. The last few weeks have been a nightmare that I’d give anything to wake up from, but that’s not an option because I’m wide fucking awake.
“Don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “As far away from here as I can get.”
He nods as if he understands, but he can’t possibly fathom what I’m going through. He sits here in his cushy office, surrounded by pictures of his wife and kids, and content in the knowledge that he has people to go home to. As for me, I’ve got no one. Not anymore. Not after the night my entire life changed.
“Well, when you do settle down somewhere, call with your address so I can get you the rest of the estate.”
“Estate?” I scoff. “My family hardly had enough for rent, let alone anestate.”
“That’s true,” he says. “But Ally had a life insurance policy, as well as her marital home, several cars, and bank acc?—”
“I don’t give a shit about any of that,” I snarl.
“Be that as it may, with the death of Ally and your parents, and the incarceration of Ally’s husband, it all comes to you.”
A vice squeezes my heart, and my eyes burn with tears I refuse to shed. Ally, my big sister, was murdered by her husband, and when he was done with her, he took out our parents, too. The only reason I’m still breathing is because I ran to the store to get condoms for my date the next day.
I’m the only living member of my family because my anger and dick were making decisions for me.
“Fine,” I mutter, rising from the chair. “Are we done here?”
I have to get out of this stuffy office. I need a ride and fresh air before I lose my shit and fall so far down into the void that I can never recover.
“We are. And again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Storming out of the office, I make my way to the ground floor of the building. I take the steps to try and burn off some of this rage, but it doesn’t help. If anything, the second I step outside, all I want to do is lie down and die.
I climb on my Harley and race as fast as I can away from this town, from the pain and memories. I don’t have a destination in mind and figure I’ll know it when I get there.
Two months later, I roll into a little town called Marble Falls in Texas. I’ve been aimlessly traveling the country, using some of the money I got from my sister’s estate, but I’m tired. So. Fucking. Tired.
The first thing I see when I turn onto Main Street is a motorcycle parked in front of a building that has a sign that says, ‘Soulless Ink’. I’ve gotten three tattoos since I left my entire life behind, and maybe this is a sign that I need another.
“Yo, I’ll be right with ya,” a man calls from somewhere in the back when I enter.
“No rush.”
“Take a look at the binders while you wait,” he calls. “Get an idea of what we can do here.”
It’s another forty-five minutes before a woman comes out of what I assume is the artist’s tattooing space, and she’s followed by a large man wearing a leather cut.
“You’re still here,” he says.
“I am.”
“Python, I can’t thank you enough,” the woman gushes as he gets her checked out. “I knew you’d get it right.”
“I’m just glad you trusted me with it,” he tells her.
