We've been driving for what seems like days, me, sprawled in the passenger seat with Luka driving, and Roman snoring softly behind us. 

The car is silent, save for the sound of breathing and the occasional stomach growling. 

I turn to Luka, his gaze sharply focused on the road in front of him, his jaw tight with anxiety. 

I reach over, placing a hand on his arm, and he flinches, but doesn't look away from the pavement. 

"You've been driving for a long time, let me drive." I whisper, my voice croaking from lack of use. 

He just shakes his head. 

"It lets me focus on something other than..." He trails off, and his jaw tightens even more than before. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Somewhere, I hope." It's a whisper, I barely even catch the words. 

I sit back, beginning to twiddle my thumbs. Everything feels cramped, stiff, as if my bones have turned to wooden boards. 

The car was silent again, that is, until my stomach began to grumble like beast emerging from an abyss. 

"Damn, Kat." Roman yawns from the back seat, stretching his arms out so far that they touch either side of the car. "Hungry much?" 

I blush a deep shade of red and clasp my hand to my stomach, as if that will calm the monster for now. 

"No, I'm fine." I lie.

I'm freaking starving. 

"There's a diner at the next exit." He says, stretching his hand out to point to a rusted street sign. 

"Roman, do you really think we have time to-" I begin to ask, before Luka is jerking the wheel to the right, sending us swirling down the exit. 

"Luka, we need to keep-"

"I can't focus on driving with your stomach screaming at me." He says gruffly, and I see hints of humor crinkling the edges of his eyes. 

I open my mouth to retaliate, but I relent, slumping back into the plush material of the seat, crossing my arms over my stomach. My body might be hungry, but my mind is only focused on getting as far away as possible from my father, from Iago, from myself. 

The seedy diner comes into view, neon lights flickering on and off, motels all around it like guardians, watching over unsuspecting customers. 

Several motorcycles sit outside, their glossy paint reflecting each flash of the half broken "open" sign above them, the red colors blinking like a stop light. 

Luka curves the car to a stop, roughly slamming the parking break up. 

He switches off the car, sitting for a moment, staring down at nothing. 

Silence fills the car. 

I can hear my heart in my ear. 

"Come on." Roman whispers, and I jump out of the car, opening the back door to help Roman down into his wheelchair that I grabbed from the trunk. 

Luka is still in the front seat, not moving. He looks like a corpse, bags hanging loosely from under his eyes, coloring his fine skin with purple clouds of sleepless nights. 

I look to Roman, who shakes his head at me, wheeling himself towards the diner. 

I'm stuck at a crossroads, wondering if I should just go in, leave Luka here. Or to go to him, talk to him. 

My stomach decides for me with another rumble. 

"Jesus Christ, shut up." I hiss down at my stomach, blushing slightly at how foolish I must look. 

I shuffle towards the diner, shoving my hands into my pockets, my hood over my head. He could just come around the corner, and all this would be for nothing. 

The door jingles pathetically as I enter the restaurant, and my senses are bombarded with the smell of stale cigarettes and cheap beer. I see Roman sitting at a metal table, a menu and a glass of golden drink sitting in front of him. 

I join him, the chair screeching as I pull it away from the table. 

"What's wrong with-"

Roman places his beer back on the table with a clatter, looking at me with squinted eyes. 

"He's going to move when he wants. I know you feel...something for him, but he's...Luka's got some..." He's stuttering searching for words to explain that might not even exist. 

I turn my head away, staring at a juke box across the room, lights blaring but no music coming out from it. 

"What can I get you?" I jump slightly at the waitress's voice, and I stare up at her, my mouth gogging like a fish out of water. 

"Um, um." I realize I have suddenly become mute. 

"She'll have a burger and fries, and another pint please." Roman orders for me, and the waitress nods, giving me a strange side look before she replaces her notepad back into her apron and snatching the menus from our table.

"I can't drink." I whisper. 

"I can." 

Roman's face looks so old under the yellow lights above us, dips and juts poking out from his sharp jaw and cheeks. He looks almost deadly. 

His eyes are hazy with drunken confusion, and it's an all to familiar look, as West's slurring lips worm their way into my mind. 

My heart rate picks up, and I suddenly feel as if the diner is far too small, to congested. 

"I'll be right back." I choke out, standing up so quickly that the chair nearly falls behind me, as I move quickly towards the chipped bathroom door. 

Stabbing my hand forwards, the door swings out in front of me, banging against the egg white wall of the bathroom. 

I brace my hands against the dirty sink, my hair suddenly sweating at the roots and my breath labored. 

The smell of stale ale on his breath, pushing itself into my senses like an animal entering the home of its prey. 

Bile rose in my throat quickly, and I forced it down, clogging my own throat with my tongue. My gaze shifts up to the rusted mirror, and I almost sob at my own appearance. 

The woman in the mirror is tired. Drained. Purple bags hang under her eyes like luggage. 

I don't recognize her. 

I sink down to my knees, cradling myself on the disgusting floor of the diner's bathroom. 

My life has been moving too fast, too loud, too fucking insane. 

I had been the normal girl. The one who people could ignore. The one bundled into herself, hiding herself. 

Then Luka showed up. West showed up. And my mother was gone. 

And my normal life disappeared. 

I have barely had a second to even breath. 

"Kat?" My neck almost cracks from the speed at which it turns towards the voice, the squeaking and winding of the wheel chair's tires echoing the empty bathroom. 

I wipe sweat and salted tears from my face quickly with my sleeve. 

"I'm fine." I bite out, lifting myself to my feet. I don't look at Roman in the eyes. 

"I'm sorry." He whispers. 

"For what?" I choke out, laughing without a hint of humor. 

"For everything. If it weren't for us, you wouldn't be in this shitstorm." 

I stare at him, cocking my head to the side. He was saying exactly what I had just been sobbing over, but the words coming from him sounded strange. Not so much a lie, but a misunderstanding. 

"My life has never been truly normal. I know that now." I rub my upper arm with my hand, trying to sooth myself. "All I want is my mother." 

The last part is the only true thing I know for sure. 

Roman opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off. 

"I don't know how the hell my life became this, but I know that the fault is with one person, and one person only. The fault is with the bastard who has my mother. And I swear to god, I am going to find her. I don't care if I die, I'm going to find her, and we are going to move so far from here that no one, not even the fucking gangs can find us." 

My breath is quick as I exhale after my speech. Roman stares at me, his eyes still slightly hinting at inebriation. He sniffs, and nods. 

"I know." 

I lean back against the side of one of the stalls, pushing my chin up. 

"I am sick and tired of being scared, of being chased. I am not running away anymore. If I'm going to run, I'm going to run to something." 

I step away from the stall, brushing past Roman as I stomp out of the bathroom, the weight of my steps letting out slight thumps as I walk. 

And those thumps stop as I stare at the scene in front of me. 

The diner is empty, silent. 

No people, food still scattered on plates at the tables, half drunken beer glasses still dripping on the sides. 

"Roman..." I call hesitantly. 

He's behind me, his brow furrowed, sobriety suddenly returning to his face. 

"Let's get the hell out of here." 

~~~~~

"What the hell happened?" I demand as soon as the car begins moving again, Luka suddenly returning to the driver's seat with his jaw taut. 

"I was outside the diner." He began to speak, his voice odd. "I was barely fifteen feet from the diner when I started to hear people yelling - no not yelling, more like panicked. They started to come out, clinging to each other, as if there was a dead body inside." 

"Why didn't you investigate?" I ask. 

Luka turns to me, his face incredulous. 

"Investigate? I'm not a fucking detective. I went around the perimeter, looking around, trying to see if they had found us." 

"And..?" I ask, my patience wearing thin. 

"No one was there, from what I could see. By the time I got to the front, everyone was already gone. Well, except for you and Roman." 

I sat back in my seat, my head a blur. 

"I don't get it." I mutter, wringing my hands. 

"Why would they all just leave?" I ask to no one. Maybe it was just a coincidence. 

But deep down, I know, that nothing in my life is ever a coincidence. 

~~~~~~~~~

"We're here." 

The sound of Luka's voice wakes me up. I hadn't even realized that I had fallen asleep. I look outside the window, my face falling. 

I'm staring at a seedy motel, paint uneven on the outside walls, rusted stairs leading to a second floor of red doors. It looks like the motel in every documentary about Ted freaking Bundy. 

"Seriously?" I ask, turning my gaze to Luka, who's already out of the car. 

I pull myself out of the car, slamming the door behind me.

"They won't think to find us here." He mutters, closing the trunk after retrieving our bags. 

"And why's that?" 

Luka chuckles. "My father thinks he knows me much more than he actually does. He wouldn't believe that I would stoop down to the level that this place is at." 

I help Roman out of the car and into his chair, pushing him towards Luka's direction. 

The lobby of the motel smells like stale cigarettes and mold, and I avoid crunching my nose at the scent. A large, greasy man sits behind the glass window of the reception, not even looking up as we walk in. 

"Roy." Luka's voice breaks the silence, and the man's thick neck squishes upwards to meet his gaze, his eyes wide with recognition. 

"Vincenzo." He babbles, drool hanging from the corner of his mouth, mixing with the white powder that I pray is from a donut. 

"Give me the key." Luka holds out his hand. Immediately, Roy drops a silver room key into Luka's hand, his fat paw shaking. 

Luka doesn't give Roy another look as he turns back to me, and without a word, heads down a small hallway, stopping at the last room, 120. 

"Luka." I try to get his attention as he unlocks the door, but he doesn't respond as he steps in. 

The motel room is what you would expect. Two crusted beds with two pillows each, a ratty futon, an a box tv with a slight crack in the top corner. 

"Cozy." I mumble, pushing Roman over to the couch. 

Luka turns towards what I assume is the bathroom, and locks the door behind him. The faint sound of a shower turning on is heard, and I slump down onto the edge of one of the beds. 

"What's up with him?" I ask Roman quietly. 

He looks at me with a knowing look that I can't place. 

"He's worried. Scared." He says, with a strange emotion in his voice. He wheels himself over to a mini bar, aggressively grabbing a small bottle of cheap whiskey from it, and taking a swig. 

"Since when are you a drunk?" I snort, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"I'm not, I just need to stop thinking." He mumbles. 

"Don't we all." 

Ten minutes later, Luka exits the shower, his dark hair hanging over his eyes, heavy with water as drops slowly drip onto a grey shirt. 

"You can shower now." He mutters, trying to walk past me. I grab his arm, stopping him. He refuses to look at me. 

"You need to stop ignoring me." I try to pull him towards me but he won't budge. He won't even meet my eyes. 

"Luka-" 

"Stop." He snaps, shocking me and Roman, who looks up from his drink momentarily. 

"I am trying to help you," He bites out. He finally turns to face me, and his eyes are bloodshot with exhaust. "This shit isn't just affecting you. I have to deal with this too." 

"I never asked you to." I snap back, ripping my arm away from him and squaring my hips to face him. "I never asked for any of this!" My tone is rising slowly but I don't care. 

"Is your mother trapped? Is your life slowly but surely tearing apart at the seams?" I throw my hands up, my eyes wide. 

He just stares back at me. 

"Didn't think so!" I growl, turning on my heels and entering the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. My breathing is heavy, and I lean my head back against the door. I shouldn't have yelled. He shouldn't have ignored me. 

I step into the shower, the cold water splashing over my face. I don't care. I slowly rinse the sweat and grime from my body, praying that it will somehow wipe away my troubles. Please. 

"Katya." I hear a dim voice from the other side of the bathroom door, making me jump, the soap slipping from my hands. 

"Go away." 

I don't hear his voice again, and I can't tell if I'm relieved or disappointed. 

I switch off the water, grabbing a white towel from the rusted rack, wrapping it around myself. I wipe fog away from the mirror, and immediately turn away, staring back at the doorknob. 

I reach for it, my hand freezing. 

Maybe if I stay in here, I can just whither away. Maybe. 

But I open the door, letting the harsh cool air of the room reach me. 

"Tomorrow morning, we're finding my mother." I snap, and both Luka and Roman jump at my voice. 

I stand there in only my towel, but I don't feel naked. 

"I don't care who tries to stop us." 

Hey guys! Jeez it's been a while. 

I am so so sorry for late (basically no) updates, but my life is insane. 

I'm in college now! (Mama I made it)

For the past year, my life has been nonstop and I honestly didn't think I would have time to write again. Or inspiration. But when I started writing this new chapter, I honestly couldn't stop. It felt so amazing to write again, and I'm going to try my best to find the time in my schedule to update. 

I miss you all so much, and if you're reading this, or any of my other stories, Thank you so much for sticking with me. I really don't know what I did to deserve all of my amazing readers and followers and supporters. 

Please let me know what you think of this chapter, and please make sure to check out my other books, which I will be updating soon!

Love,

Noe