"Chaos is a friend of mine."

~ Bob Dylan

"You know..." Emily said slowly, "It's kind of hard to believe that Tobias managed to get you on a horse after all these years."

"What?" I looked around nervously, ignoring her stare which had caught me off guard.

"Dan and Andy saw you two..." she paused, "...riding together," she finished dramatically.

"So?" I shrugged it off casually, trying not to care.

"Don't give me that. Dan and I have been trying to get you on a horse for ages. How did it even happen?" She raised her eyebrows at me, clearly not falling for my whole couldn't-care-less-attitude.

"It just happened." I sighed. "It's not a big deal."

But it was.

Ever since the day we went to the stables, I just couldn't face him, especially after finding him battered like that in the street yesterday. I hadn't told anyone about it. I didn't know what to say. I was being a coward but it was better than getting caught in a web of unnecessary drama. No matter how hard I tried, I was unable to understand him so I decided to avoid him instead.

The jingling of the entrance bell of the diner made me glance in its direction only to see Tobias walk in, alone. I averted my gaze like my eyes had caught fire.

Breathe.

"He looks worse than after the first fight," Emily whispered, referring to his cuts and bruises.

"Yeah, he does." I gulped, my heart aching.

If only she knew it wasn't a fight that did this to him, it was a gang of violent assholes.

"You won't survive this."

"It's none of your business."

"How about you tell me all about your date now?" I begged Emily, cradling my head between my arms and resting it against the cold table for a few seconds before looking back at her.

"Fine, but only because I'm really excited to talk about it." She chuckled. "He set up the back of his truck with a mattress, fairy lights, and lots of cushions. He got me Chinese from Wok-a-bye."

"He's a keeper." I laughed, chewing on a french fry.

"You don't know the half of it." She stuffed her mouth with a bite of the hotdog, swallowing quickly. "Then, he kissed me," she said shyly.

When she noticed my grimace her eyes lit up mischievously, all traces of her shyness leaving.

"His lips were so soft and his eyes were so dreamy. We kept making out, gentle and sweet..." Suddenly, she slammed both her hands on the table, "...Then he pushed me against the mattress and climbed on top of me—"

I shrieked, waving my hands in the air hysterically, "Ew, ew, ew. Gross. Stop that!" Her giggles engulfed us. "You're evil." I glared at her.

"He gave me this." She pulled out the same necklace we had bought yesterday. "And obviously I cried," she confessed as a matter of factly.

"Awh, it's beautiful, Em," I gushed. "I'm so goddamn happy for you two, you deserve to be this happy."

My eyes wandered over to observe Tobias who was ordering something. He was wearing a dark grey-colored v-neck with a pair of Adidas sweatpants. His hair was ruffled and his bruises had indeed worsened. Most customers were shooting glances at him, judging him for his appearance. He, however, was indifferent towards their hushed whispers, his callous demeanor intimidating those around him.

"You're staring at him again," Emily noted.

"No, I'm not," I retorted defensively. "I was simply looking in that direction and he happened to be there."

"Then why do you have that look on your face?" she asked quizzically.

"What look?" I frowned.

"You look a certain way whenever you see him. Like you're staring at a piece of art or something."

"And?" I asked, not quite understanding her point.

"You love art, Ari."

I was rendered speechless. Her words cut deep. Deep enough to sear my soul.

————

I gently swung back and forth on the rusty metal swing, its creaks getting louder with each push. I felt a sense of relief being alone with my thoughts. I had strolled to an empty park after lunch, in an attempt to rationalize why I felt so drawn to Tobias. Alone, under the evening sky, one would expect to find all the answers. Sadly, it wasn't that easy. My feelings felt like knotted jewelry, the more I pulled them apart, the tighter the knot got. It was frustrating, not knowing your own sentiments.

Suddenly, the swing beside me moved, I immediately looked up. It was a hooded figure. My impulses activated and I became apprehensive, not wanting any trouble. With my foot firmly hitting the ground, the swing screeched to a halt. Both hands gripped the chains as I lifted myself, ready to walk away. Unfortunately, my path was obstructed by a towering figure.

Breathe. Don't panic.

When the stranger dropped their hood, revealing dark eyes outlined with kajal, I instantly connected the dots.

Kiara.

With knitted brows and a baffled expression, I pondered over what she could have wanted from me.

"I know what you saw." She smirked, both her hands on my shoulders as she pushed me back down on the swing.

"What do you mean?" I scowled, not liking how she invaded my personal space. I harshly removed her hands from my body and stood back up.

"Drop the act," she added smugly before tilting her head to light her cigarette. "You were in the alley," she explained after inhaling a short drag.

The alley...?

Did she mean yesterday...

The realization swarmed me like ravenous bees. I knew I had spotted someone vaguely familiar in the alley yesterday.

It had been her. 

"You won't survive this."

She hurt Tobias.

Fuck, she could hurt me.

I shook my head, gulping, "I...don't know what you're...talking about."

Breathe.

"No loose ends," she said wickedly, blowing the smoke towards me.

Come on, breathe. You can do this.

"Is that a threat?" I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest.

"This is gonna hurt and I'm going to enjoy it way more than I'm supposed to." Her voice was laced with menace as she flicked her cigarette to the ground and charged towards me, plunging into my stomach head-on.

Fuck, my ribs.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I felt her knock the air out of my lungs; brutal and hard. Out of breath. Wincing, groaning, wheezing. When I regained my vision, my bloody fingertips greeted me. I could taste the iron in my blood as my tongue slid over the left corner of my mouth.

What the fuck.

Before I could react, the psychotic bitch was straddling me. Knocking punch after punch to the side of my head. Fuck. Think. Do something. I let out a piercing cry, yanking her hair in the process. My nails sinking deep into her scalp in an attempt to free myself.

"You bitch," she shrieked, halting her attack.

Oh, I'll show you what a bitch is.

I managed to catch hold of her neck, choking her with as much force as I could muster; both hands squeezing her windpipe. We struggled on the ground, rolling and grunting like fucking pigs. Somehow, I ended up straddling her this time. I threw a punch but it barely caused any damage to her.

It was pathetic, really. I was pathetic. 

Suddenly, she jerked her hips upwards, causing me to bounce. In one swift motion, she swung her right leg over my head and hit the back of her thigh against my neck with immense force. I tumbled to my left as my throat constricted, wheezing painfully.

Fuck, that hurt.

She used this to her advantage and got to her feet. I widened my eyes with a horrified expression. When she came at me this time, I dug my feet into the ground for support, and before she could collide with my body, I threw myself at her, clawing whatever part of her I could find.

The sound of leaves crunching caught my attention for a split-second and what a costly split-second it was.

Note to self: don't let yourself get distracted when a psychotic bitch is trying to kill you.

A direct consequence of my faulty focus was the burning sensation that lit up my left cheek like a Christmas tree. The crippling power of her slap quite literally fried the wiring inside my brain. Ringing ears, black spots, and a throbbing cheek. I staggered in my step, the whole park circling around me like I was spinning.

Why the fuck are there birds flying around my head?

I was shaking my head in an attempt to regain my composure when an indistinct voice vociferated from behind me, "What in God's name is going on over here?"

My brain was too haywire to comprehend who it was, all I could tell was that it was a man.

"Stay out of this, old man." I heard Kiara growl.

When I squinted to focus on the source of the voice, my hazy gaze landed on a man who looked like he was in his sixties. All of a sudden, a rush of adrenaline surged through my body, giving me the strength to speak.

"She's trying to fucking kill me," I rasped.

Kiara glared daggers at me, ready to lunge forward and tear me to smithereens, but before she could move a muscle, the white-beared man tutted, "Ah, ah, ah." He signaled with his finger for Kiara to back off.

She scoffed at him, not taking his warning seriously. When she began marching towards me again the old man whistled, capturing her attention and making her halt in her tracks, annoyance lacing her features. The man pulled back the front flap of his denim jacket to reveal a pistol. My eyes widened and my throat dried. The gun sat neatly in its holster with the man's hand hovering over it.

"Walk away." His voice was deep and authoritative.

Kiara gritted her teeth, before groaning in defeat. "This isn't over," she seethed before disappearing.

I coughed, wiping my bleeding lip and trying to breathe.

"Here." The old man held out a handkerchief.

"Thank you," I grunted, walking over to a bench.

"You want to tell me what in the world was going on?" He raised a brow, settling next to me.

I dabbed my lip with the handkerchief before replying, "I don't know. She just came at me, saying shit—" He scowled at my choice of words.

I cleared my throat nervously, "—I mean, saying things like, 'I know what you saw' and 'no loose ends'," I explained before slowly asking, "Why do you have a gun?" I immediately stood up, realizing that even though he saved me, he could have been twice as dangerous.

"Ex-military. Major Thomas Brady." He introduced himself, "You can Google it," he added with a chuckle to ease my fear. "Although, you'd find a much handsomer version of me on there."

"Oh. Ariel Parker, sir." I breathed shakily, my head still pounding, "I should get going. Thank you once again."

"You can call me Thomas. It was really no trouble at all, kid. I live down on 5th Street, if you ever need anything you're welcome to swing by." He smiled at me before getting up to leave. "Now, you be careful on your way home."

"I will, Mr. Thomas, I mean, Thomas. Thank you."

Before I could return his now bloody handkerchief, he was gone.

————

Together we can be one in a million. 

Please don't forget to vote, comment, and share if you enjoyed this chapter.

Love, Ari