Riley sat in the dimly lit room, her wrists raw from the metal cuffs that bit into her skin every time she moved. The musty smell of the old house clung to her, a reminder of her brothers' suffocating hold. She didn't know how long she'd been there—time blurred into a long stretch of hours marked only by the occasional echo of their voices through the thin walls.

Mike and Kyle had both changed so much over the years. They weren't the brothers she used to know, the ones who had watched out for her, protected her. Now, they wanted something from her—something she wasn't willing to give. They wanted her to turn, to work with them in whatever mess they'd gotten themselves into. But she couldn't do it. Not now, not ever. Not after everything.

She leaned her head back against the wall, the memories tugging her under, pulling her away from the cold reality of her captivity.

Riley sat at the worn-down kitchen table, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at Kyle and Mike across from her. The house was quieter than usual, her father out on one of his drinking binges, but the tension between her and her brothers was thick enough to suffocate. She had planned this conversation for weeks, going over how she would tell them—how they would react—but nothing could prepare her for the reality of it.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the crumpled letter from her bag and placed it on the table in front of them. The official seal of the police academy was stamped at the top.

"I got accepted," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "To the police academy. I... I saved enough from the grocery store job to get my own apartment, too. I'm leaving next week."

The silence that followed was deafening. Both Kyle and Mike stared at her like she had just confessed to a crime. Mike's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he took in the information. Kyle blinked, his mouth slightly open as if he didn't know what to say.

"You're what?" Mike was the first to speak, his voice low and sharp, like a knife slicing through the quiet.

Riley shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I'm going to the academy. It's the only way out, Mike. If I don't do this, I'll get dragged into—into everything. I don't want to wind up like Josh."

Mike's eyes darkened at the mention of their little brother. Josh's death still hung over all of them like a storm cloud, a constant reminder of what their lives had become.

"You think this is your way out?" Mike's voice rose, and he pushed the letter back toward her, his hand trembling. "You think you're better than us now? Better than me and Kyle, huh?"

Riley flinched, the accusation hitting her harder than she expected. "No, Mike, that's not what I'm saying. I just... I want something different. I want to do some good. Help people, keep other kids from—"

"From what?" Mike interrupted, his face twisted in anger. "From turning out like us? From ending up in a house like this, with a dad who beats the shit out of you if you say the wrong thing? We did what we had to do, Riley. And now you're just gonna walk out of here and become one of them?" He spat the last word like it was poison.

Kyle hadn't said anything yet, but Riley could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he looked down at the table like he couldn't bear to meet her gaze.

"It's not about that," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "I'm not trying to be ungrateful. I know what you both did for me, for Josh. But I can't stay here. I can't end up like..." Her voice trailed off. She didn't want to say it, didn't want to finish that sentence.

"Like us?" Kyle finally spoke, his voice quieter than Mike's, but filled with just as much hurt. He glanced at Mike, then back at Riley. "You think if you leave, that'll make everything better?"

"It's the only thing I can do," Riley said, her eyes stinging with tears she refused to let fall. "I'm not strong like you two. I can't keep doing this. If I stay, I'll end up in the same mess, and I don't want that. I want to make something of myself. And maybe... maybe I can make things better, for people like us."

For a moment, there was only the sound of the old clock ticking on the wall, the three of them locked in their own silent thoughts. Riley's heart pounded in her chest as she waited for one of them to say something, to understand.

But Mike just shook his head, his face twisted in anger and betrayal. "You're unbelievable, you know that?" he muttered, standing up abruptly. "All these years, we've been busting our asses, keeping this family together, and now you're just gonna walk out on us? You think you're some kind of savior now?" His words stung, but she could see the pain behind them, the way his fists clenched at his sides.

"Mike, wait—" Riley started, but he was already walking toward the door.

"You're on your own," he said harshly, though she could hear the hurt in his voice. "Good luck playing hero, Riley. Don't come crawling back when you realize you're just as screwed as the rest of us."

The door slammed behind him, and Riley flinched at the sound. She wanted to run after him, to explain that it wasn't about leaving them behind, but staying had never felt like an option for her.

Kyle remained at the table, his gaze still downcast. He didn't say anything at first, and that silence tore at Riley's heart more than Mike's harsh words.

"Kyle," she whispered. "Please, you have to understand. I need this."

He finally looked up at her, his expression a mix of sadness and disappointment. "You're leaving us," he said quietly. "After everything. You're just... leaving."

Riley's throat tightened. "I'm not leaving you. I'll still be around. I'm just trying to make things better. For all of us."

Kyle stood up slowly, his movements heavy, like the weight of everything they had been through was pressing down on him all at once. He didn't say anything else, didn't yell like Mike. But his silence spoke volumes as he turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Riley alone.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Riley sank into her chair, the weight of the moment crashing down on her. She had dreamed of this, of getting out, of starting fresh. But the reality was far more painful than she had imagined.

The sound of muffled voices yanked her out of the memory, bringing her crashing back to the present. Her brothers were in the kitchen, arguing. She couldn't make out the words, but she knew their tones—Mike, angry and defiant, Kyle, quieter but firm. They'd been like this for days, fighting over what to do with her, how far to push her.

Riley shifted, feeling the cuffs bite into her wrist again, the pain grounding her in the moment. She had to stay strong. No matter what they said, no matter how they tried to manipulate her, she couldn't break. Not for them, not for anyone.

As she sat there, doing her best to remain invisible, a new voice cut through the air. A man she didn't recognize stepped into the room, tall, greasy, with a slick grin that made her stomach churn. He gave her a once-over, and she immediately stiffened.

"Who's this?" the man asked, his eyes lingering too long on Riley.

"None of your concern, Carl," Mike snapped, stepping in front of her.

Carl's grin didn't fade. "Didn't know you had a little sister, boys. A little cop sister, no less."

Mike's face paled before he regained his composure. He gestured to the cuff that chained Riley to the radiator. "We have it under control."

Carl raised his hands in mock surrender, but his eyes flicked to Riley again before he turned back to Mike and Kyle. "Fine, fine. Just here for business. For now."

Riley shrunk into herself, listening closely as Carl started talking with her brothers. Most of it was in code, vague enough that she couldn't pick up much, but then she caught a name. Sinclair.

Her blood ran cold. She'd heard that name before—Sinclair was a major player in the drug trade, someone even the force was having trouble pinning down.

"We got the shipment coming in a couple days," Carl said, lighting a cigarette. "Sinclair wants everything smooth, no mistakes. You boys up for that?"

"Don't worry about us," Mike grunted. "We know what we're doing."

Riley's heart raced. Shipment? Sinclair? If she could just get a message out, if she could warn someone... But how? They had her trapped, and they were watching her every move.

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Author Note:

Hi! sorry it's been a while since the last update. I've got a triple update for you guys to make up for it! 

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