I took a sip of my not so disgusting coffee. I believed coffee was a kind of delicacy that not every Tom Dick and Harry could make. The café I was at, Thanks A Latte, really did try with their coffee. I gave them points on their chocolate croissants though. Absolute perfection.

I pinched bits and pieces once in a while, cleaning my hands on a napkin as I continued to type on my laptop. There was much to be done. First, making sure Peach McCoy never existed. I was erasing every piece of information on myself from any network I could find. I hadn't made a big impact on the world but big enough to be sitting in this café for the past half hour. I glanced out the window to check on the old deep blue sedan Miss Kay had helped me rent from some small company. More information I had to erase.

I'd been driving for the past few hours and technically, I was having breakfast for lunch. My eyes were lowering every second I stayed awake. I was so tired. Paranoia needed another extra battery if I was being honest. I sighed and sipped on my coffee. It wasn't working. Maybe I needed something stronger. I didn't typically love black coffee but we all went down uncharted paths if we were desperate enough. I made a mental note to ask the waitress for some when she passed by. For now, I decided to check on my tail.

At 9 a.m this morning, I got an alert that Viktor Makarovich was at the subway. He didn't get on any train at first. He lingered at the station for a while, maybe twenty minutes or so and then he got on a train and went in the opposite direction I had. At this time, I was waiting for the sedan to show up which it did ten minutes after. Something was knocking at my skull though. I'd been watching Viktor Makarovich's movements a lot. After the train, he got off at a small town called Blackbridge at the edge of Santa Pores. He proceeded to spend a lot of time at a house on 10th street.

Hours of driving had me stiff, slow and this coffee had started making me jittery but my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me that I'd forgotten something. After spending hours at the house on 10th street, Viktor Makarovich moved on to an elderly home where he was now. Was he even chasing me? Maybe I got something wrong.

Cradling my coffee cup, I sat back in my booth by the window and stared hard at my screen. The red dot was immobile. I hadn't heard from Miss Kay in... I checked the time. 3:41 p.m. Six hours, all of which I'd been driving on the road. Maybe I should call her? No. That would put her in danger.

I sighed. Something was off.

I was missing a key point.

What...

That's when it hit me like a bullet. My heart dropped and my skin went cold but broke out in a feverish sweat. My stomach churned, rose, dropped and did every move possible that made my chocolate croissant want to come back from its trip down my oesophagus. My hands shook and I had to put my cup down. I reached out for my laptop but my vision was swimming. I checked the red dot that I had thought was Viktor Makarovich. It wasn't him. He dropped his phone. I don't know how but he's thrown me off.

I didn't know where he was.

I checked for the windows Viktor could have had to make the change. It was before I could erase the transaction Miss Kay made to rent the sedan. It was ten maybe fifteen minutes but those were enough. I looked out at the vehicle and then at a camera in the parking lot.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit. I jumped out of my seat and shut my laptop. I put it in my backpack and then I hauled ass out of the café, leaving the keys on the table at my booth. I had a head start of about an hour between me and Mr. Mafia. Thirty minutes of which I spent in the café. As I run down the street in an unknown town, tears blurred my vision.

I was terrified.

My lungs had forgotten how to function, I was sweating and seriously regretting having just eaten and drunk so much coffee. I slowed down because I needed to breathe and think. Distance. Distance was my friend. I needed to create it between Viktor Makarovich and I. I couldn't use the sedan anymore. That was suicide so as I walked down the street, my eyes went over every car parked on the side. A terrible idea came to mind. I knew how to steal a car. My brother taught me and my father taught him. I kept my eye out for a car that was older. Newer cars with keyless systems were much harder to get into and I didn't have everything I needed.

I spotted an old Ford truck parked in an alley between what I think was a laundry mat and an office. I made my way to it, hiding in the shade provided by the two buildings. The back of the truck had in wood, rubber and other random supplies. I got in my toes and pushed them around, looking for something to open the window. All I found that was remotely useful was a small iron bar. I placed one end at the window and then pulled my other hand back, hitting the glass causing it to shatter. The sound of the glass landing on the ground seemed loud in my ears but I ignored it, reaching into the car and opening the door.

I jumped in and brushed all the shattered glass off the seats. I heard voices outside the alley and I pressed myself down on the seat, praying they moved on. With my shaking form on the leather seats, I realised this was madness. I almost laughed. Almost. Instead I opened up the car and started it by putting two wires together. At first, the spark had refused to give enough juice. I thought that was it but with a bit more encouragement, the sparks got bigger and the car started. The poor thing sounded like it was on its last leg.

Me too buddy.

That's when I heard the shouts. Looking up, an angry burly man was marching in my direction from across the street. I got working at the manual shifts of the car.

"Hey you Bitch!" the man shouted jogging towards me. "That's my truck!"

I pulled out of the alley, almost knocking into the guy. "I'm sorry!" I shouted as I passed by him.

Looking into the review mirror, I didn't think I'd seen such devastation on someone's face before. I felt bad but this car was going to help me survive. Keeping a hand on the wheel, I slipped my backpack off my back and put in in the seat beside me. I pulled down the zip of my black hoodie and slipped it off as well, leaving me in a light blue tank top. Cold air hit my bronze skin from the open window and I let it help keep me awake as I drove. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone and dialed my brother's number.

If you're listening to this it means I'm too busy or you're too unimportant for me to pick up the phone. Do what you must. I won't promise to listen to your voice mail though.

"Peirce you idiot!" I practically yelled into the phone. "I want to say this was all your fault luckily, you may be the only reason I might live but if I'm being honest with myself and the universe... I'm not so sure I'll survive this. I don't want this to be the last time I can hear your voice. Pick up my calls. Please brother. I need you."

Tears blurred my vision because I was so angry and so scared. "I'm going to die." I laughed. "I'm going to fucking die, oh my God. Peirce why'd you leave. If you pick up I'll forgive you for going. I promise. Just give me a chance. One more chance brother. I promise I won't screw up this time. I won't drive you away. Pick up my calls please."

I pressed end. He might not even listen to his pending voicemails but here I was, pouring my heart out to someone who had given up on me. I hadn't meant to drive him away. I knew I had been difficult when he was around. We fought a lot, all siblings did but sometimes, I went overboard with Peirce.

"You're a useless bastard you know that right?!" I shouted at him. "Even dad knew you wouldn't be able to keep your head straight enough to do something with your life."

"Oh and you think you're gifted just because you can hack a video game?" he spat, glaring at me with his red eyes. He'd been using as usual. "Look around you Peach. Mom's dead, dad isn't any better and you..." he laughed. "I might be getting high on drugs but you're getting high on something else aren't you?"

"Shut up!" I growled.

"Oh no. No no no. You think being an addict is all about drugs?" He laughed again but this time, something had changed. My brother had sunk and I wasn't reaching him today.

"Get up, get clean and find yourself a job Peirce," I told him.

"Why don't you find one huh? Go be a waitress somewhere or better yet, become a stripper. At least then I'll be happy to make an effort to visit you," he smirked.

"You're disgusting," I sneered. "And know this, any little bag of white powder in this house... I'll find it, hide it and force you to get clean if you don't want to do it yourself."

"Oh so you're the little mouse that's been stealing my stuff," he said looking at me with a new light. I'd always loved my brother's eyes. Unlike mine, they were a brown lighter than even his skin. They made him look ethereal but now, they were surrounded by red veins and they were livid, unnaturally so. "Leave my shit alone Peach."

"No," I said shaking my head. I begun to back up then because his features had morphed. My brother was gone for now. Tears blurred in my vision as he got up and stalked toward me. "Peirce stay back. Peirce."

I tried to run but he grabbed me and spun me to face him. His hold on me was tight. "Peirce you idiot! You're hurting me!"

"This isn't hurting baby sister," he chided and grabbed my chin so I was forced to look into his eyes. They were wild, crazed. "Now... I've decided to forgive you this one time. Should my fucking shit go missing one more goddamn time, I'll know its you and I'll come for you, understand? I don't want to so don't force me to hurt you Peach."

"You're a monster," I whispered shaking my head, trying to get out of his grip but he held on. "You're a monster and I don't want to see you in my brother's body. Give me Peirce back. Please."

"This is all you're getting little one," Peirce told me. "If you can't accept me as I am then you better pack up and leave."

"Please Peirce," I begged. "Get clean. Get your head straight. You'll land yourself in trouble one of these days and you cannot leave me too."

We stared each other down.

"I could leave this house tonight," he whispered and I saw tears gather in his eyes. "I could just get up and go but I don't. Isn't that enough?"

It wasn't but one night, he did.

At a time like this, looks into my past weren't what I needed so I focused on the road and only the road. The sun set, the moon rose, stars illuminated the sky and I was still going. I drove myself to exhaustion until the red sign outside a town called Cloudpass. MOTEL. I went into the parking lot and turned off the car. I sat in the dark space for a second, trying to get my bearings. I took a breath, pulled myself together and hoped I'd created the space I needed between me and Viktor Makarovich. I grabbed my stuff and checked in.

My motel room was small. A bed with a duvet that had a red floral pattern that matched the curtains of the window beside me. The walls were green and the place smelt of must. The bed was about four steps from the door and further ahead was the bathroom. There was a coffee table at the end of the bed, a round table and two chairs in the corner plus a small TV fixed on the wall opposite the bed. I dropped my stuff at the door and shut the curtains.

I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the light. The place had ugly light green tiles and the bathtub and toilet were stained brown. I ignored most of that and I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink. My eyes were haunted, surrounded by dark bags. My hair though was in four neat cornrows tied at the base of my neck. Miss Kay had done them herself. Thinking of her made my heart hurt. I wished I was where she was. Safe, protected.... Truth was, I hadn't truly felt safe since my mom died. Her passing was a spark that lit the fire that destroyed my family but for some reason, I was the one left standing away from the flames but that didn't mean I hadn't got burnt.

Shaking my head, I washed my face, hoping it would wash away my misery too. Being on the run wasn't cool. It wasn't about me spectacularly dodging death. I was not having a blast. I wasn't enjoying how resourceful I could be. I was bone tired, scared and paranoid. Every time, I felt like I was being watched. I couldn't be myself. I couldn't breathe. I felt like there was this rope around my neck that was keeping me alert and awake. Every move I made, the rope tightened reminding me not to make a mistake. Every time I found peace, the rope pulled at me once more, knowing joy could blind me.

I hated this. I wish I hadn't opened _m.a.r.k.v.i.k_'s message.

I just lay on top of the bed, looking up at the white ceiling. My legs were crossed at my ankles and my hands were over my stomach. I felt cold in my black sweats and light blue tank but I wasn't going to allow myself any comfort. I had to be ready to bounce in case of anything but for now... I just wanted rest.

My eyes slowly flickered closed. I let them. My body relaxed. I let it. My breathing slowed. I encouraged it. Only for a few minutes, I was going to pretend like I was back at home. Not even my apartment. My house where my dad, mom, Peirce and I used to stay. I was in my bed, Peirce was next door, playing music on his guitar, learning quicker with each lesson mom gave him. My parents low voices sounded from downstairs. I hadn't known then that they were discussing how to tell us about mom's cancer so I pretended not to know now as well.

I was at peace here with the better part of my past.

I slept peacefully.

Until...

There was something cool on my neck that was not the golden locket I wore. There was a weight that pressed me down. There was a smell that surrounded me. It was masculine... it was foreign. My breath hitched, the cool substance pressing at my neck harder. I blinked my eyes open and I met blue ones. There were many kinds of blues but I'd call this shade baby blue because they were so soft and beautiful. For a moment, I thought that this was it. I had died in my dream and my guardian angel had come to take me to my mom but then the sleep faded from my mind.

It took its time, rolling away like a morning fog but everything became clear. There was a knife to my neck and a man on top of me.

"Don't scream," a deep grumbling accented voice said. "You Peach McCoy have not been simple to track down but I loved the chase though... it didn't last long. I assume you know who I am. Why don't we talk?"

Viktor Makarovich had found me.