seven ◌ coming home

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Trying to fall asleep after being smacked in the face with a shit ton of new information proved to be difficult. I tossed around in the bed, my brain killing itself with these revelations about my attackers. It felt like I was in a constant state of panic just thinking about Kat and all the possible torture techniques these rogue group of intelligence could be implementing on her. Despite my father's attempts to train me to be strong, it was times like these that really tested me, and I was on the edge of diving headfirst.

When my mind finally found peace, and my body was beginning to relax, my phone started to violently vibrate on the table next to me. I grabbed the device, glaring at the bright screen and taking note of the time: 6 A.M., exactly eight hours since my initial conversation with ANTI. The blocked number that flashed on my screen, caused me to hastily slide my finger across the surface. I didn't want to take any chances of missing a call from the people who held Kat captive.

"Hello?" I kept my voice down, keeping considerate of the sleeping people in the rooms next to mine.

"Tasha," the voice spoke. It was the same one from last night; the same eerie tone that made my spine tingle.

"I've made my decision," I cut straight to the chase. There was no time to play games, not when my sister's life was on the line.

"I'm going to assume that you're going to agree to this plea deal and save your sister," he predicted.

"Yea, I am. I will do anything to get her and our mother's body back. You don't scare me," I lied— I was terrified of what could happen. I could get arrested in the process, or I could die, but I had to do everything in my power to save my family.

The voice let out a laugh, "prove it."

"Don't worry, I will. When I steal back my sister and my mother, you will know the kind of courage I have," I seethed. "Then, I will find the person you're working for, and when I do, I will hold a loaded gun in between their damn eyes."

A response didn't come immediately after. I didn't even hear anything on the other end of the phone, not even a single breath. For a moment I thought the phone disconnected, but when the voice spoke again, I knew he was just contemplating a response.

"Someone will contact you in a few hours with your first task," he informed. "And Tasha."

"Yes."

"Your bravery will already be rewarded. Your prize? My name. So the next time I call, it'll be like a friend reaching out."

This dude was seriously deranged.

"What's your name?" My heart leapt from my chest cavity. If I knew this monster's name, then maybe I could find out more about ANTI, and possibly put a stop to this shady business.

"Zayn," he spoke lowly. "My name is Zayn."

The conversation was over, and the phone call disconnected. I sat alone in the early morning hours of the day, pondering my next move. What was my next move? I had a few hours before receiving my first task, and to be frank, I was frightened, nervous, and anxious all at the same time. In nerve racking moments like these, I'd go for a run. A few miles around L.A., climbing walls, jumping off balconies, and doing backflips off of benches, all used to calm my nerves. But currently, my body was broken, so doing a little parkour wasn't the greatest idea.

I did however, have an alternative.

The gravitational pull that drew me towards my home was incredible. I didn't even know that's where I wanted to be, till my Uber dropped me off in front of the sky rise at around 6:30 in the morning. The sunrise kissed the side of the building, and all was tranquil in the vicinity around me. Unlike he previous night, the elevators were working in perfect condition and the door that lead to my home seemed unharmed.

"Here goes nothing," I breathed, sticking the silver key into the doorknob. The gears inside clicked, I turned the knob, and pushed open the door. It creaked open slowly, revealing an empty home before me.

Step after step, I walked into the penthouse. It was warm and smelled like citrus. While I expected to discover my home to be turned upside down, to be the center of a tornado, oddly it was not. Everything was in its place, not a single frame broken or throw pillow on the floor. But what I found to be very unsettling, was the window in the living room. The glass that shattered before my mother tumbled from it, was still perfectly intact.

"They covered their tracks," I touched the warm glass with wonder, examining the window like a rare painting.

They did this— ANTI. They cleaned the apartment, replaced the broken window, and even spritzed air freshener. Anyone could walk into this home and have no idea about the horrifying event that took place the previous night. Someone could stroll through the front door, take a seat on the couch, and have no inkling that it was the location of something gruesome. ANTI swept in like a cyclone, did some damage, and cleaned up after themselves.

Damn.

I only grabbed the important things. Several articles of clothing, another pair of shoes, a family photograph, cash, and a stack of postcards from my father were thrown into a large duffle bag. I opened the middle drawer of my desk and rummaged through the random things inside of it. In the midst of extra pens, a Nintendo DS, and a box of tampons, was an old cellphone. The outdated piece of tech, was not a smartphone, and instead a simple cellular device made just for making calls and texting. Throwing the phone into my bag, it felt like I was a fugitive on the run; a criminal attempting to lay low. It was all so jolting to me— one minute I was just a high school kid, and now there's a high chance I might not make it out alive to be at graduation.

I headed towards the front door, ready to leave the home I once knew, and venture into a world so ugly. But in the hallway, the corner of my eye caught something shining on the hard wood floor. It was a rainbow, reflecting from the lavish sconce bolted in the wall of my mother's room. At just the right angle of the sun, its rays would hit the crystals of the wall ornament, and cast a sweet rainbow on the floor.

"Mom," I walked into her room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

I ran my fingers across the bedside table, playing with the jewelry that was sprinkled on top. It reminded me of the gold ring looped through a dainty chain, pressing against my skin as a constant reminder. It was overwhelming to say the least, but what shattered my heart the most, was the scent emitting from the bedsheets. I took one of the pillows and hugged it tightly. The fluffy material ballooned out from beneath my arms, and my mother's warm smell danced into my nostrils.

"I miss you, mom. Miss na miss kita," I bawled. I hadn't cried yet, and now it felt like the tears wouldn't stop. "Don't worry, mommy. I'm going to save Kat. Pangako."

(translation: I miss you a lot; promise)

The pain cut through me, like a scorching hot knife slicing against my soul, and it fucking hurt. All kids lose their parents someday, but when they're old and have lived a life so full. It felt like my mom was just getting started with her dreams. Mostly however, I knew I couldn't chase mine without my mom; she was my muse. This pain influenced all the little things my body intuitively did, like breathe. Every rise and fall of my chest was agonizing, physically debilitating, and for lack of a better word, it sucked.

I continued to sit on my mother's bed, immersing myself in the room she called hers. As I did, my ears picked up on a sound that did not belong. My senses harnessed its ability, while I set the pillow aside. Quietly, I reached behind the headboard, feeling for a heavy piece of metal that my mom had attached to the material with velcro.

"Gotcha," I whispered to myself, my hand grazing the weapon. The hidden gun was my dad's idea, which I always disagreed with. But at that moment, I couldn't have been more thankful for the pistol.

I pulled out the gun, cocked it and held it in front of me with both arms brandished forward. With muted, careful steps, I began to walk out of my mom's room and into the hallway. Foreign footsteps rang in my ears as I inched closer out of the corridor and into the main room. I heard three different voices, which should've scared me because it'd be three versus one, but at that point, I was ready to take on anything.

"Take another step and I fucking swear," I materialized from behind the hallway wall with the gun pointed outwards.

"Fucking shit, Tasha!"

"Niall?"

I gawked with confusion dribbling from my facial expression. Standing before me was Niall, Liam, and Harry. Niall had both his hands up in surrender, while Liam and Harry stood on either side of him with guns pointed in my direction.

"Told you we'd find her here," Niall stated. He brought his arms down, and I noticed the bandages wrapped around one of them.

"You snuck out of Dela Cruz's house. What the hell were you thinking?" Liam questioned, irritation oozing from his tone. He placed his gun back into its holster.

"Wait, that was Professor Dela Cruz's home?" I raised a brow. The luxurious home seemed to be out of the price range for a high school chemistry teacher.

"Will you fucking put your gun down," Harry sputtered angrily.

I gawked at him, took a step forward, and kept my own weapon flashed, "I'll put mine down, when you put yours down."

Harry and I glared at one another with narrowed brows, and disgust painted across our faces. After a few moments, the two of us slowly lowered our pistols, and the room became slightly lighter. My eyes darted from Harry, to Niall, to Liam, and I noticed how disheveled they looked.  The trio sported messy hair, there was a bruise on Liam's cheek, and the sleeve on Harry's shirt was roughly sliced.

"Did something happen? You all look like a shit," I pointed out, head nodding at their tousled appearance.

Harry scoffed, head nodding in my direction, "you look like a bag of dicks yourself, sweetheart."

I shot Harry the middle finger, and in response he dramatically threw a hand to his chest.

"Tasha," Niall's voice brought be back down to topic. I looked over at him and he continued, "ANTI infiltrated Dela Cruz's home... they kidnapped him."

"What?" I breathed. "Wh-why? What did he do? He's just a chemistry teacher."

"He's your dad's right hand man," Liam told me.

"Professor Dela Cruz works in the furniture business?" I stared at him in puzzlement. Liam raised a brow, shooting me an expression mixed with curiosity and something unreadable.

"Why did you come here?" Niall asked. 

"I just wanted to grab a few things," I told him honestly. "I'm going to steal my sister back."

"So you're striking a deal with the devil, then?" Liam was currently observing the framed photographs sitting on the shelf next to the television.

"Why did you come looking for me? I'm pretty sure Harry told you about the phone call. Tell anyone and my sister dies. Just let me be," I advised.

"She dies if anyone you tell gets in the way," Liam clarified. "We're not getting in the way, because we're going to help you."

"No!" I shook my head. "No freaking way. That's a terrible idea. I don't even know why you'd be crazy enough to help me. This is going to be dangerous."

"Tasha, you already know that we're crazy enough to help you," Niall gazed down at his bandaged arm. I shot him a guilty look.

"I get you, and kind of Liam," I switched my attention to the green eyed boy whose arms were crossed above his chest. "But Harry, I'm not so sure about. Who actually are you?"

"I was hired by Professor Dela Cruz to protect you and Kat. So that's exactly what I will continue to do," Harry spoke so stoically. It was like he showed no emotion but anger, annoyance, and disgust.

"Well you've done a shit job so far," I spat, rolling my eyes.

"My post wasn't your house. It was at Kennedy Prep," Harry took a stride forward. "As much as I hoped you would fall into a fucking bush every time you climbed balconies or scale a wall, I made sure nothing happened to you."

"We were all hired by Dela Cruz to protect you," Niall gestured for all three of them. "We've all been placed into your life as marks to be your eyes and ears. Or in my case, give you blood if things like this happens."

I mulled over Niall's justification, still highly confused. It made sense yet it didn't, and comprehension wasn't occurring in my mind. For the first time, it felt like the relationships and friendships I made was a complete lie. Harry was supposed to watch me at school, and Niall outside of it? Did he ask me to prom because my dad wanted me to go with a date, or because I needed a bodyguard?

"I don't understand. It's not like I'm the Queen of England, or Beyoncé. Why am I so important that I needed a specialized detail planted in my life?" I questioned. The boys looked at one another— they were doing that weird telepathic thing again.

"Look, just be grateful that you do," Liam uttered. He was keeping something from me. "So let's move on from this. Grab whatever you need Tasha, because we need to leave now."

"Hold on, one more question," I started. "Where's Hex?"

The entire room tensed up. It felt so intense at that moment, I almost regretted asking. But I was glad I did, because I would've hated to find out the truth from someone else. Niall stepped forward with his head hung low and dropped the bomb.

"Hex sacrificed himself for us. Used his body to buffer a grenade. He's gone."

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» author's note «

Hex :(

This chapter's purpose is to depict the type of insane power ANTI holds. Replacing the glass window, cleaning up the apartment, and making it seem like nothing happened, is just one way ANTI keeps their organization a hidden mystery.

Please don't be a silent reader and do vote for this chapter. Leave me some comments too, if you want to share your opinions, theories, feedback, etc.

I can't wait till you all read what I have planned for this story. I already have up to chapter 19 written so far, because I'm just too inspired to stop! :)

Thank you for the constant support!