Chapter 5

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"Leave? We can't leave? You need us!"

I didn't protest.

"I do. But if it's no longer safe for you here. I don't want to risk it."

"Please, father." Liam began to plead.

This was our chance of an escape. Why were they refusing? Did they realize all that they were risking? This was our chance to be safe. To be normal.

He sighed.

"Fine. You can stay, for now. But if anything else happens, if you get caught, all three of you are on the next plane out of here. You understand?"

The nodded their head, Liam elbowed me until I began to nod as well.

"Did you leave any evidence at Navy Pier?"

"Our weapons. But they don't have our finger prints on it."

"They don't?" I questioned.
The three of them stared down at me, at first with confusion. Then shock. Nova grabbed my hand and turned it over, my palm faced upwards.

"Shit." She threw it back to me as if it were a toy.

"What?"

"You have fingerprints."

"Of course I do, everyone does."

"Not everyone." Liam muttered under his breath, pointing his good arm out, palms facing me. The tops of his fingers were red.

"Get rid of Will's fingerprints." He commanded them.

They both grabbed me, less harsh than they normally would. What was going to happen? How could they get rid of my finger prints?

"AHHH!" I screamed out. Liam slammed my left thumb on our blazing hot stove. He pressed it down harder, spreading the burn through out my entire finger. The scorching pain was unbearable.
I began to cry.
He flew it off the stove. I dashed to the freezer and shoved my entire hand into a bag of ice. I wiped away my tears before they could see me.

"C'mon, Will. Only nine more fingers to go." Liam mocked.

My blood boiled. My thumb stung as the ice cooled it. The ice made it ache even more

"I can't do that again." I choked.

"Will.." She approached me gently. Liam shoved her out of the way then shoved my head deeper in the freezer.

"Liam!"

"Do you want to get caught by the cops? Do you? WELL? DO YOU?"

"No! No I don't!"
He released me from his grasp.

"Do it again, Will. Now." He commanded.

I didn't want to go over there. I wanted to get on a plane and never return. What was really keeping me here anyway?

"AHHHH!" My pointer finger was pressed against the burner. My skin sizzled. I could smell the burned skin peeling off. I began to shake.

An hour later, all my prints were successfully burned off. The top of my fingers were numb as I continued to rest ice on them.

"Are you okay?" Jack sat down by me at the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I hid my hands.

"Did you get hurt?"

"Uh, yeah.  I fell. But I'm fine now." I lied.

"But why-."

"Jack! Jack come here!" My mother called from the bottom of the staircase. I took a deep breath when he reached the last step. She scooped him in her arms.

"Let's go play on the swings, Jack." She took him outside.

I still say my mother was the strongest person in our home. She watched her husband and kids go through hell every day. She knew she couldn't change a thing. All she wanted was her family to be safe, and isolate them from a world their own father created for as long as she could.

Liam passed me on the stairs. He was cleanly cut and dressed up in comparison to his usual boots and jeans.
He was attempting to button the cuff on his shirt, his immobile arm didn't help much.

"Big night?"

He turned, looking surprisingly chipper.

"Yeah. Minga and I are going to a new club opening tonight called 'The Spider'. It's supposed to be wicked."

"Well, have fun." He finished his way downtown and threw his coat over his shoulders.

Dad's office door was closed and locked.

On my way back downstairs, I saw Nova flipping through a magazine. I sat next to her on the couch.

"What about you? Have any big plans tonight?"

"Nope. Maybe I'll get some tacos."

"Neither of you work tonight?"

"Even children of a Drug Lord gets nights off, Will." Her eyes didn't part with the article she was reading.

I wondered around the house in isolation. I felt so alone. This would be a good time to have friends. Someone who could give me advice and tell me everything will be okay. Someone I could talk about anything with. Half the thoughts that roll around in my head are thoughts that would kill me. Thoughts that if my family knew about, they'd probably kill me.

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