TWISTED BLOODLINES

CHAPTER ONE

Abby sat anxiously in her seat on the plane, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. Fingers trembling, she hastily typed out a resignation message to her father.

"Dad, I'm sorry I ran away. I've made up my mind-I'm done working for you. Just found out I got accepted for the second semester. All I want is to experience a normal life, surrounded by kids my age."

Her fingers trembled as she tried to send the message, Abby began to think of multiple reasons not to send the message, she didn't know why but her fingers were shaking uncontrollably. "Could it be fear?" She thought.

"I can't continue to take part in killing people anymore. I just want to attend college and pursue my dream career "

Abby paused, afraid to type any further. Should she summon the courage to send this message? But before she could make a choice, her trembling finger mistakenly clicked on the send button.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing loudly through the cabin, waking the guy seated across from her from his sleep.

"Keep it down, okay?" he said rudely, his face forming a frown as he covered his eyes with an eye mask. Abby rolled her eyes in annoyance but decided not to speak further. "Asshole," she said, her voice almost loud. her words subsided into the cool atmosphere as the rude guy resumed his slumber, without giving her anger a second thought.

Abby Maddox, commonly known as Serial 15, on the brink of turning 18 in the coming month, had reached her breaking point. She was exhausted from being her father's accomplice, a cold-blooded serial killer. Her father, Mick Maddox, was well known to be one of the most feared and notorious Men on the planet.

Raised single-handedly by Mick after her mother escaped from a life of domestic violence, Abby had endured a childhood marked by privacy and darkness. She had enjoyed it but seeing that her younger sister, Mitchell might embrace that life as well, she decided that any change would start from her.

In addition to that, the love of art and the beauty of nature had slowly pulled Abby away from the dark world of killing. The more she immersed herself in the creative realms, the stronger her desire grew to leave behind the life she had known.

Abby's heart raced with uncertainty as she thought of how her father would react to the message she had sent. Breaking the SIM card used to send the message to her father was a symbolic act, breaking the ties that bound her to the dark past she wished to escape. She left the other SIM card, so she could be connected to her eight-year-old sister Mitchell. She was ready to embrace and embark on a new life in the vibrant city of Las Vegas.

With her sights set on a fresh start, Abby had applied to study Literature and Art at the University of Nevada The thought of getting deeper into the world of creativity, surrounded by reasonable and Normal people, filled her with both excitement and nervous anticipation.

Just as Abby was lost in her thoughts, her phone beeped loudly, startling the guy she had mistakenly woken up earlier. He grumbled with frustration, his annoyance grew as it was evident in his voice. "Keep the fuck down, young lady," he snapped. Shocked by his rude response, Abby merely hissed in response, refusing to give him any form of apology.

Curiosity took the better of Abby, as she reached for her phone to check the message. A smile formed on her lips as she read the name of the sender-Amara, her best friend and former partner in crime. Amara, who had managed to escape with Mick's money, had been on the run ever since, well aware that if she were caught, she would be killed immediately, and her head would be presented to Mick on a silver plate.

The mere thought of such a tragic consequence sent shivers down Abby's spine because she had stolen her father's money as well. The risks they had taken were huge, and the hunger to be free from the clutches of her father was quite the risk or so she thought. At least Amara was still out there, surviving against all odds, maybe she would.

The message from Amara filled Abby's heart with a mix of excitement and nervousness. It revealed that Travis, Amara's boyfriend, was waiting for Abby at the Las Vegas airport. Travis, whom Abby had only glimpsed during secretive video calls to ensure Mick wouldn't catch her, had always anticipated seeing him. The prospect of finally meeting him face-to-face made her very excited.

"Las Vegas, here I come," Abby said loudly, her voice piercing the silence of the cabin and awakening the dozing guy beside her from his sleep again. Irritated by her constant disturbance, he removed his eye mask and stared at Abby, his gaze filled with annoyance.

"Can't you sleep or something? Are you a witch?" he retorted, his voice covered with a hint of irritation. Used to his rudeness already, Abby let out a chuckle and it seemed to make him angry

Due to the anticipation coursing through her veins, Abby didn't allow herself a single blink throughout the entire flight, consumed by the excitement of beginning her new life.

As the plane touched down, Abby eagerly descended from the plane, stepping onto the solid ground of Las Vegas. She took a deep breath, tasting the warm breeze that brushed against her skin, carrying with it a sense of freedom.

Her eyes searched the busy airport for Amara and Travis. The thought of reuniting with Amara and the prospect of finally meeting Travis made her heart race with anticipation. She couldn't help but smile, her excitement shining brightly in her eyes.

And then, suddenly, there she was. Amara appeared out of the crowd, her voice filled with excitement and warmth. "Boom!!" she yelled, her voice echoing in Abby's ear, startling her.

"Amara, you startled me," Abby chuckled, playfully shrugging her shoulders in mock annoyance. The sight of her Amara made her heart fill with genuine happiness and peace, which she had not felt in a long time.

"Come here, it's been months, and I've missed you," Amara exclaimed, pulling Abby into a tight embrace. Tears welled up in Abby's eyes as she held Amara, feeling the weight of their separation disappear at that moment. "I miss you too, sister," Abby whispered, her voice filled with genuine affection.

"I'm going to get introduced or what?" Travis's voice interrupted their moment, drawing their attention toward him.

Abby's eyes widened, realizing that this was the man she had only seen through video calls. Amara's introduction brought a smile to her face as she looked into Travis's eyes. "Oh, Abby, this is Travis-the one you've been speaking to on the phone," Amara said, her voice filled with warmth and amusement.

Abby couldn't resist teasing Travis, an irresistible but mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Ah, so you're the one who stole my sister's heart," she playfully remarked, causing a smile to creep onto the corners of Travis's lips.

"If you misuse her heart, I'll surely haunt you forever," Abby whispered, her tone laced with seriousness as well as a playful gesture. Travis felt shivers along his spine, he never expected the girl he had done a series of video calls to be that harsh. She cleared his throat to say something but he was interrupted by a genuine laugh escaping Abby's lips as she saw the reactions her words had on Travis. Amara joined in. "That was a joke," Abby said noticing the uneasiness in Travis

"Okay, can we get going? I'm exhausted," Abby said, with a yawn escaping her lips due to her tiredness. The weight of the journey and the sleepless night which she had experienced was catching up with her.

"Not so fast, Abigail. Have you forgotten Travis's cousin?" Amara said with a smile, Amara has always been one to smile no matter what. "Oh, here he comes," she added, pointing towards a figure approaching from a distance.

Abby turned her gaze in the direction Amara had indicated, her eyes widening in surprise. The guy walking towards them was none other than the rude guy who had sat beside her on the plane.

CHAPTER TWO.

Abby's heart skipped a beat as Frank Nesmith approached. The closer he got, the more she became aware of his captivating presence. She had initially failed to notice his striking features on the plane, but now they were impossible to ignore.

From a distance, Abby could identify his unique walking style. His long legs seemed to stumble slightly with each step, giving him a wrestler-like appearance. She found it oddly charming. As he drew nearer, she couldn't help but admire the contrast between his dark, glowing hair and his fair complexion. It only added to his charm and made him look even more attractive in her eyes.

Abby's gaze shifted from his hair to his physique, and she couldn't help but appreciate the evident effort he had put into achieving such a well-built body. His muscles hinted at countless hours of hard work and dedication to the gym. The sight of his tattoos, partially revealed by his short-sleeved shirt, further excited her.

Finally, when Frank stood before her, Abby found herself embraced by his hazel brown eyes. They were warm and inviting, drawing her in with their intensity. His well-defined jawline added a touch of ruggedness to his overall appearance, complementing his striking features perfectly. At that moment, she couldn't help but think that perhaps Frank was an epitome of human creation or so she thought, carefully crafted to be both strong and attractive.

Amara's voice broke Abby's trance as she greeted Frank with a warm embrace. "Hey, Frank," she called out, her excitement was obvious. Abby watched as Amara hugged Frank tightly, their close bond evident.

Frank returned the hug warmly, his brotherly affection was obvious as well. "How was the burial, bro?" Travis asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it. Hope you're doing okay."

"I'm good, the burial was okay, I guess," Frank replied with a sigh. As his gaze met Abby's, she felt a sense of discomfort, his questioning stare making her uneasy.

"What?" Abby retorted, her voice laced with defensiveness.

"I think I know you," Frank said aloud, his smile looking like that of a two-year-old who had just spotted their favorite toy. Abby shook her head adamantly, denying any knowledge of him.

Frank continued to observe Abby from head to toe, a sheepish grin playing on his lips. Abby's anger flared up. "What are you smiling at?" she yelled, her voice filled with anger and frustration. She had experienced men's seducive stares in the past, and she despised being objectified.

Growing up in Alaska, particularly in her father's house, Abby had learned the hard way that such leering gazes often signaled sexual intent. She had fallen victim to it before, but she had also learned how to defend herself.

"Don't worry, Abby, he isn't like that," Amara chimed in, trying to reassure her friend. Abby nodded silently, her guard still up. "I think we should get going," Travis suggested, breaking the tense silence.

The group started walking, Amara and Travis leading the way, while Abby and Frank trailed behind. Abby couldn't help but steal glances at Frank from the corner of her eye. There was an undeniable curiosity brewing within her, despite her reservations.

Mick paced restlessly around his dimly lit living room, his hand absentmindedly rubbing his grizzled mustache. Scars criss crossed his weathered face, a mark to show the countless fights he had endured. The eye mask he wore, covering one of his eyes, gave him the appearance of a rugged pirate, a mark due to a fight with his former best friend.

"So you haven't seen Abigail since?" Mick's raspy voice sounded athroughout the room, sending a shiver down Michelle's spine. At only eight years old, Michelle was Mick's youngest daughter, soon to turn nine on the same day as Abby.

"N-no, father. She left without a word," Michelle stuttered, her voice trembling with fear. She dared not meet her father's piercing gaze and instead focused her gaze on his bare, scarred chest. Each scar told a story of his rugged life, a life that had left its mark on him both physically and emotionally.

Michelle, his youngest daughter, cowered in the corner of the room, her eyes wide with fear. She had seen this side of her father before, the coldness that consumed him, removing eny form of sympathy or love. She knew better than to say anything that might further provoke his wrath.

Mick's face was in a huge frown as he remembered the events surrounding Abby's departure. To him, she was nothing more than a witch who had escaped with his money, leaving behind a mere text message as her final act of departure. The thought of her well-being never crossed his mind.

Grenada, his current wife, approached him with a mischievous smile, not at all concerned about Abby's fate. As she ran her fingers along Mick's scarred chest, she loved the power and control she got from marrying Mick. Their relationship was built on deceit and hunger for wealth. making them a perfect match in their wicked pursuits.

Grenada and Mick had tied the knot nine years after Abby's mother had fled their lives. It was during Grenada's pregnancy with Michelle that they had decided to formalize their union. Grenada, known for her gambling and theft, had found peace in Mick's twisted world.

Despite the material comfort that came with their marriage, Grenada suffered in silence from the brutal hands of Mick's domestic violence. Her hunger for wealth and power had blinded her, that she did think too much about the domestic violence, she always saw reasons for it.

"How?" Mick scoffed, his voice laced with frustration, as he lit a cigarette and took a drag. The smoke filled the air, adding to the atmosphere of darkness that surrounded them. "She don't even know her whereabouts, Grenada."

Grenada's smile widened as she leaned in closer, her eyes glimmering with an mischief. "Oh, Mick, my love," she said, her voice dripping with calculated mischief. "We have our ways. Trust me, Michelle here will give us Abby's number, right Michelle"

"Mum, that was supposed to be a secret between Abby and me. I told you not to tell," Michelle pleaded softly, her voice laced with fear. She did her best to avoid Mick's deadly stare, aware of the consequences that could follow.

Mick's face twisted into a scowl as Michelle's words sank in. Anger filled him, after realizing that Secrets were kept in his household.

"Take her to the torture room, torture her till she starts talking" Mick said in a loud voice that filled the room. His boys, Tom and Freddy came immediately and raised Michelle from the ground effortlessly despite the pleads of Michelle.

Grenada's eyes widened in realization of the mistake she had made. She regretted letting her own curiosity get the better of her. Seeing her daughter's distress tore at her heart, and she desperately sought to rectify the situation.

"Wait!" Grenada yelled in frustration, her voice filled with urgency. "Mick, we don't need violence to get the answers we seek. Let's find another way".

Mick's gaze turned toward Grenada, his eyes flashing with anger written all over his face. "Stay out of this, Grenada," Mick said, his voice carrying a threatening tone. "If you don't want to be a part of the torturing process, then keep quiet." The weight of his words hung heavily in the room, leaving Grenada feeling both powerless and saddened by the situation.

Unwilling to risk Mick's wrath any further, Grenada fell silent, a mixture of concern and guilt washing over her. She hated herself for not being able to protect her daughter. She just wanted Abby dead.

Without another word, Mick issued his command to his trusted associates, Tom and Freddy, to take Michelle away.

They lifted Michelle once again, their grip firm and Painful, and started moving towards the torture room in the house

"Please Father, I don't want to be tortured" Michelle yelled with fear as she was carried over Freddy's shoulder

CHAPTER THREE

"Are you ready to talk now?" Mick's voice echoed as he came closer to Michelle.

Michelle was weak, the numerous red marks that showed at her back was evident due to the beating.

Hot tears flowed down her cheeks when she said "I have her number, I'll give them to you, please don't torture me again"

Mick's laughter filled the room as the boys carried Michelle for treatment. That's the only good thing about Mick, after torturing he always treats.

"This will go down well, when I send a threatening message to her about Torturing Michelle, she will surely run home to get a little sister and I'll simply take her into my prison once she arrives here" Mick said, still wearing a smile. He took a cigarette out from the pack of cigarettes he held in his hand.

He lit up the cigarette, and placed it in his mouth, he took a satisfactory drag. The smile on his face refused to leave.

As the two settled in, Amara couldn't help but notice the spark of excitement in Abby's eyes during the ride to her home. Las Vegas was a city of endless possibilities, and it seemed to envelop Abby completely. Her gaze wandered from one view to another, enjoying the view of the vibrant pictures and statuses that decorated the walls. However, despite the distractions, Abby's attention kept deviating back to Frank, who was seated close to her during the ride.

Frank made several attempts to start a conversation with Abby, hoping to form a discussion with her, a discussion that could lead to friendship, But the way Abby had been raised and taught prevented him from starting a conversation with her. She had been taught to stay silent unless she was asked a question, and to never respond or chat with strangers because everyone was considered a potential threat.

Abby wanted a conversation with him but her past held her back. She couldn't break free from the confinements of her past. But for now, she remained a prisoner of her upbringing, unable to respond to Frank's attempts to have a conversation with her.

The ride was long and seemed endless. Finally they arrived at Amara's home. Abby hurriedly came down and brought her little traveling box out.

"Hurry up, I want to see what your room looks like," Abby said excitedly, as she ran.

Amara couldn't hide her laughter. She walked quickly to catch up with Abby.

Soon they were in the room together, folding and arranging Abby's clothes.

"Hope you took Mitchelle to an orphanage just like we planned?" Amara asked, concerned.

Abby's face fell and Amara knew the reply to her question without Abby Answering it. Amara couldn't believe Abby didn't such a silly thing.

"The words 'You left Michelle there' echoed in Amara's room as Amara's frustration boiled over. She couldn't help but direct her anger towards Abby, who now sat next to her, Abby had no words to form as she felt stupid.

"You know that would not have been easy, I had little time to escape" Abby explained hoping Amara would understand. "Was I expected to take her along?" Abby asked, in a very cool voice, because assassins are not expected to talk in a loud voice, as that was what she was taught.

"Yes, if that's what it takes Abby '' Amara yelled, her frustration evident as she walked around the room aimlessly. "And secondly, stop talking like you're still with Mick," she said sternly, her gaze piercing into Abby..

Abby couldn't help but notice the obvious change in Amara since they last saw each other. It was now clear to her, just by hearing Amara's voice, how much she had changed into a strong, independent woman. In contrast, Abby struggled to hear the volume of her own voice, uncertain of how loud she could speak. She also observed that Amara could engage in social interactions and her relationship with Travis was blooming. It was obvious that Amara had broken free from Mick's grip and was enjoying her newfound freedom with the ones she loved.

I didn't think before I did it," Abby calmly admitted, without any emotions as she unpacked and folded her clothes. "Besides, nothing will happen to her. Grenada is there," she said, trying to offer assurance to Amara and herself.

But deep down, Abby couldn't deny her own doubts. She was afraid for her sister's safety and silently prayed that nothing would happen to her. She knew her sister was not safe, despite the fact that she tried to convince Amara.

"You know Grenada doesn't give two shits about anyone, including her daughter!" Amara yelled, her voice filled with fear for Michelle's safety. Despite Michelle not being Amara's blood sister, they shared a tight bond.

"I'll go back for her," Abby declared, a decision she had made before leaving Alaska.

Amara looked at Abby in surprise, their eyes communicating without their lips forming a word. They both understood that any attempt to return to Alaska, is risking being seen by Mick's henchmen, and it will jeopardize their chances of being counted among the living.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but I assure you as hell that I'm not going with you," Amara yelled, her voice mixed with that of fear and frustration. However, Abby remained calm and composed, it was evident that she was unaffected by Amara's words.

"I've managed most things on my own, even after you left me," Abby said, her gaze fixed on Amara's eyes, which were filled with anger. "I never needed you before, so I don't need you now."

Amara stared back at Abby, the words piercing her heart although it was an hurtful truth. But Amara never for once forgot Abby, she felt pained Abby could stare at her and speak such words.

Their conversation hung in the air, as the room became silent and no one made a sound for minutes. Abby continued folding her clothes as Amara stood to watch.

Suddenly, a knock on the door saved them from the situation, shattering the silence that had settled in the room.

Amara went to get the door, and to Abby's surprise, it revealed a shirtless Frank. His chest had a large dragon tattoo, with the dragon's tail extending down his arm. Abby couldn't help, she enjoyed the view of his well-built abs, but she quickly regained her composure.

Frank entered the room and sat down next to Abby, but she felt a bit uncomfortable. "Hope you don't mind?" he asked politely, noticing the uneasy look she gave him. Abby simply shook her head unsure of what to say.

"Do you talk at all?" Frank asked, confused. He had noticed that she only spoke to Amara and sometimes Travis, but she didn't seem pleased with his presence. Amara stepped in, realizing that Abby wasn't going to respond to any further questions from Frank.

"She does talk, but she's just a bit quiet because of the flight," Amara said.

Frank took a moment to carefully examine Abby's face, as he was convinced he had seen her somewhere before. His gaze shifted to her short hair, which gave her a somewhat boyish appearance, but her eyes held a distinctly feminine quality, creating an unique contrast. She had a determined and unsmiling presence, almost like that of a warrior. Frank couldn't recall ever seeing her smile. His eyes then wandered to her slightly pointed nose and lips.

Lost in the effort to recall where he had seen her, Frank's brain suddenly clicked, and before he knew it, the words had escaped his lips. "I remember you now," he blurted out, accompanied by a mischievous grin that rolled to the corners of his mouth.