"Did you need something?" I asked, pulling my earbud out of my ear and looking up at my mother, who was staring at me expectantly.

"Kiara, for the third time, I need you to run down to your grandfather's shop and grab the money we made last weekend at the sale," My mother tapped her bare foot impatiently on the wooden floor of our living room, clearly frustrated with me.

I set my book, The Great Gatspy, down next to me and put my earbuds back in, pushing myself off the couch with a groan.

"Stop complaining," She said, her face erupting into a moodchanging smile, "You're making me feel old. And you could do with a little fresh air," Mother fluffed her hair, setting my book on the coffee table instead of the couch where I set it.

My mother was beautiful, to say the least. My parents were of Indian and Sanskirt descent, and though I disagree, the friends I had before I moved away from them not too long ago insisted I inherited the looks of my mother.

The house was mostly still in boxes, being that this was only our third official night staying in our new home. We used to live with my grandfather, who I was going to see now, but after an argument broke out between my father and him, we were abruptly kicked out. Even though he lived right down the road, it was far enough away that where we were staying now was in a different school district.

I was one child of three, and even though I was the middle child, I was the oldest child in the house since my brother Kavin moved out last summer.

I slid around the stack of boxes blocking my bedroom door, making my way to the closet to pick out the shoes that best matched my outfit. Most of my clothes were either thrifted or once belonged to my mother, but I got brand new shoes from my brother when his girlfriend left him and all her belongings at his house.

I grabbed a pair of white sandals, which matched perfectly with my white jeans and matching white crop top.

I liked to dress in all one color. Today, it was white.

I threw my phone and earbuds down on my bed for when I returned, and waited until I got to the front door to put on my shoes.

"I'll be back in a couple of minutes!" I shouted as I walked out the door.

The walk down to my grandfather's house always calmed me. It was along a backroad in our middle of nowhere house in Kentucky, with trees on both sides for as far as I knew.

My grandfather's house wasn't the biggest, with only four bedrooms and two bathrooms, it was small compared to some of the homes in towns nearby.

A car I didn't recognize was in the driveway, and I didn't know who it could belong to. There's a possibility that it was one of his friends who came to help him put the roof back on the shed, which blew off in a storm over the weekend.

I couldn't hear any construction, however. And the house was deathly quiet when I popped the door open.

In an attempt to keep my grandfather from freaking out, I went on a search to find and inform him I was taking the money box.

I didn't know where he could possibly be, and there was no response when I called out, "Grandpa? You here? Ma' wants the money, I'm just coming to take it,"

I turned the corner into the living room, and before I had time to take in the horrific scene on the floor, a hand covered my mouth and dragged me out of the room.

I tried to scream, but whoever it was knew how to keep my mouth shut so the sounds that came out sounded like grunting.

I couldn't see who was behind me, but there was more than one person there because I could feel two hands over my wrists and one over my mouth.

I managed to get my mouth free, snapping my teeth down on the fingers of the poor soul who was trying to do who knows what.

"Ow, fuck! She bit me!" One of them complained, and I could tell it was a guy due to the deepness of his voice.

"Oh shut the hell up and tie her up. Corey, did you get the key?" A secod voice, much ruder sounding than the other, spoke up.

"Right here," The man, probably Corey, said with triumph as if he was holding something in his hand.

I twisted my head, trying to get a better look at my abducters. I stayed quiet in fear of what they would do to me if I spoke.

I heard the clicking of handcuffs behind me, and I knew that those were now on my wrists so I would not get free. They were not tight, but not loose either. I knew they would leave marks, temporary ones of course.

One of them sat me up, leaning me up against the wall of the kitchen we were in. I looked at them, realizing there were now four of them, who were looking straight at me.

One had dark hair, too dark to be natural. He was holding his finger, so I'm assuming that's the one who I bit. There was one with a man bun, and another with blonde hair. The leader of them all was standing cross-armed off to the side, and I could see the gun sticking out of his pants and the tattoos peeking out from under his shirt. They were all wearing matching black outfits, with jackets even though it was summertime and hot as hell outside.

"What are we going to do with her, Colby? We can't just leave her here, she'll tell someone," The blonde said, looking at the one who was standing further away.

"You think I don't know that, Sam?" Colby stared at me, deep in thought. His eyes were such a blue that looked like they were ice which matched his personality perfectly. Cold.

"I'm not killing her," Corey raised his hands up in front of him.

"You have the best aim," Jake whined before giving his statement thought and shrugging, "but I wouldn't either, even though she bit me like a fucking dog,"

"Keep your hands away from my mouth and you wouldn't have that problem," I snapped before looking at Sam, who seemed to be the smartest out of all of them, "What are you guys, drug dealers? Because I'm pretty sure my grandfather was not a drug dealer,"

At the mention of my grandfather, Colby sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The four of them seemed to share a long, curious look between themselves.

"No. He's not a drug dealer, and neither are we. Well," Corey hinted before shaking his head, "We can't kill you. Our boss would have our heads,"

"Yeah, so that's not happening," Jake shuddered, "But what I wouldn't do for a line right now,"

"Look," Colby said, his voice booming with frustration as he spoke, "You're coming with us,"

"And where to?" I asked.

"Don't say anything unless we tell you to, got it?" All of a sudden, Colby was in my face, his fingers grabbing my mouth to keep me from talking. It wasn't until I nodded that he let go and answered my question with a softer, but not exactly soft, tone. "We're going home,"

"Thank god," Jake mumbled, and somehow he now had a doughnut.

I would recognize those doughnuts anywhere. My grandfather made them. And he couldn't ever again, because he was lifeless and bloody, left to lay on the living room floor.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to shout. I wanted to stab whichever one hurt my grandfather, along with the other three for letting it happen.

I couldn't tell exactly who killed him, they all had equal amounts of blood on their clothing, hands and faces. Lucky fuckers.

I glared at Colby, who had some serious mood swing issues. Just from seeing him for less than five minutes, I could tell that's how he always is. Calm one minute and full of rage the next.

And now I'm going to have to go on a journey with them to get to their home, and a wild goose chase to get back to mine

Lucky me.