Tatto Lies

Chapter Two:Borrowed time

Zayden dropped his backpack by the door like nothing happened.

Like three men hadn’t come to their home in the middle of the night with threats dripping from their mouths.

Like his mother hadn’t nearly collapsed, too terrified to breathe, as she wondered if this would be the night they lost him.

Lyra stood still, arms crossed, eyes sharp as knives. “You’re scared,” she said quietly, more to herself than to him. “So, you’re human after all.”

Zayden didn’t answer. He just ran a hand through his messy hair and walked to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge without a second thought. His movements were quick, mechanical.

Evelyn followed after him, voice cracking with frustration. “Why are they looking for you? Zayden, what did you do this time?”

He pulled out a bottle of water, twisting the cap off without breaking his stare. “I didn’t do anything. It’s just… complicated.”

Lyra let out a dry laugh, her voice thick with disbelief. “Complicated. That’s always your answer. Like that makes it okay. Like we should just live on edge forever, because your life is ‘complicated.’”

Zayden leaned against the counter, staring at the bottle in his hands but not drinking. “Marlow just wants what I owe. I’ll get it to him. Simple as that.”

“When?” Evelyn’s voice broke as she stepped forward, reaching out like she could physically pull him back from the edge. “Before or after he sends those animals back to tear our door off again?”

Zayden stiffened, looking away, his eyes darkening. “I’ll handle it.”

Evelyn sank into the kitchen chair, her hands trembling. “Zayden, I don’t even recognize you anymore. You used to be different.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “No, Mom. He’s still the same. He just hides behind this act now, pretending like he didn’t change the second Dad—”

She didn’t finish. The words caught in her throat, too sharp and raw.

The second Dad died.

Lyra swallowed hard. She hadn’t said it out loud. Not in front of Zayden. But it had been three months. Three months since the accident. Since the phone call. Since everything turned into a mess they couldn’t untangle.

Zayden’s expression darkened at the mention of their father. His gaze flickered, betraying a brief flash of pain before he masked it with anger. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to end up like this? I didn’t ask for any of this. Not after Dad—”

“No,” Lyra interrupted, her voice growing louder, harder. “You chose this. You let it consume you, Zayden. You stopped trying the second we buried him.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

“Zayden…” Evelyn whispered, voice shaking as she stood up. “What happened to my son? The boy who could make anything with his hands? The one who had dreams? What happened to him?”

Zayden’s eyes flickered toward the window, avoiding their gazes. “The streets happened, Mom. This place… it changes you. Everything changes.”

“Not everything,” Lyra said coldly. “But you sure did. You think we can keep living like this? Hiding from Marlow’s people? You think that’s a life?”

Zayden didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and slung it over his shoulder. “I need to go out for a bit.”

Lyra watched him like a hawk. “Where are you going?”

He looked back over his shoulder, his face a mask of indifference. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Three Days Later…

Lyra sat at the kitchen table, staring at her phone, still no word from Zayden. Her thoughts spiraled out of control—was he dead? Was he hurt? Where had he gone? Had Marlow’s men found him?

The quiet in the house felt oppressive, a vacuum that sucked all the air out of the room. Her mom was curled up on the couch, a picture of exhaustion and worry, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, waiting for any sign of Zayden’s return.

And then there were the rumors.

Lyra had heard them whispered on every corner, in every store. Marlow’s men had come looking for Zayden. They’d been seen in the neighborhood, scouring every street, questioning anyone who might know where he’d gone. The word was out—Zayden Blake had racked up a debt he couldn’t escape, and now his family was paying the price.

Lyra pulled her jacket tighter around herself, nerves taut. She had to keep it together. She had to keep it together for Evelyn. For herself. She couldn’t let the weight of her brother’s mistakes crush her too.

Then, just as the sun began to set, the door opened.

Zayden stumbled inside, his clothes torn and stained with dirt. His face was bruised, his lip split open, a fresh cut over his eyebrow. He moved like he was barely holding himself up, like the weight of the world was crushing him.

Lyra rushed to his side. “What happened to you? Where were you?”

Zayden didn’t answer. He collapsed onto the couch, his body shaking with exhaustion. His eyes were distant, haunted.

Evelyn stood at the doorway, her hands trembling. “Zayden…”

“I tried, Mom…” Zayden’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I tried to get the money. But they…”

He trailed off, eyes closing for a moment, as though he couldn’t find the strength to finish the sentence.

“They beat me up. Bad. And now… they’re coming for me. They won’t stop until I pay up… or they take me down.”

Lyra froze, her heart skipping a beat. “Zayden—”

“I don’t have much time,” he whispered, panic in his voice for the first time in weeks. “I’m not safe. None of us are.”

He reached into his pocket with shaking hands and pulled out a crumpled, bloody note. “They said… they said if I didn’t pay by tomorrow, they’d come for you, too. They’ll hurt Mom. They’ll hurt you.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

Lyra stared at her brother, the weight of his words sinking in. For the first time in forever, she saw him—not as the arrogant, reckless younger brother, but as someone just as scared as she was.

“They’ll be here,” Zayden rasped. “And I won’t be able to stop them this time.”

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