A Billion Reasons To Hate You

Chapter Five: Paper Notes Of Doom.

The note slipped from her hands before she snatched it back and ripped it to pieces, shredding it until nothing was left but scraps on the floor. Her fingers were shaking so violently from the shock that she nearly dropped her bag while trying to grab it as she hurried to get out.

Her lungs couldn’t keep up, breath stuttering as she tried to shove her feet into her shoes. She nearly fell when she stood, catching herself on the wall before stumbling toward the door. No goodbye, no explanation; she couldn’t form words anyway. She just needed to get out, her body moving on instinct, dizzy and shaking as the room tilted around her.

She ran through the hallway, barely aware of the muffled music still playing out front. Her only thought was out.

By the time she reached the parking lot, her heart was pounding so hard it felt as though it would burst, her skin clammy and cold from the sweat of pure panic.

She didn’t look back at the club; her eyes darted everywhere around the parking lot. Scanning shadows, cars, the stretch of asphalt that suddenly felt endless, making sure no one was waiting for her.

As she looked toward the far end of the lot, a black SUV began rolling in her direction. Its tyres crunched over the gravel, slow enough for every pebble to make itself heard. The red glow of its taillights bled across the dingy lot, casting a dull, uneasy light on everything.

Her stomach sank like wet cement.

A tattooed hand slipped out of the back window, the ink barely visible in the dim light. Two fingers aimed at her like a barrel. The thumb clicked down, silent but deafening.

Bang.

Renee froze, dread slamming into her like a wave. Her chest locked up, every breath shallow and useless, as if the air had been stolen from her lungs. Her throat went bone-dry, and her bag slipped from her grip, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

The SUV’s window rolled up, and the shock locked her in place. She couldn’t process what had just happened, her mind struggling to catch up with her racing heart.

Renee didn’t remember getting home.

One second, she was outside Liquid Confidence; the next, she was standing in the rain at the base of her apartment building and soaked to the bone. She blinked at the doors like they’d appeared out of nowhere, trying to stitch together the missing pieces in her head. Nothing came.

Her hands fumbled through her bag, frantic, searching for her keys. Questions ricocheted through her skull so fast they tangled into noise — How the hell did he find me so quickly? Did he send the newspaper as a warning to toy with me? Why hasn’t he just killed me when that’s all he wants? Or is it?

The downpour drenched her hair, sending icy chills down her neck. Her fingers finally caught the keys, and she shoved them into the lock with hands still shaking slightly as the door creaked open.

Inside, the hallway lights buzzed faintly, flickering against peeling wallpaper. The elevator was broken again, and a paper sign slapped over its doors. She dragged herself up thirteen flights of stairs, breath ragged by the time she reached her floor.

Renee froze as she noticed something on her door. A folded slip of paper, tucked under the frame, similar to the one in the nightclub.

Something inside her collapsed out of nowhere.

She ducked around the corner and pressed her back to the wall, her soaked clothes clinging cold against her skin. She held her breath, straining for footsteps, voices, anything that might signal danger and tell her to run for her life.

But all she heard was the distant rush of traffic outside.

A burst of laughter broke the silence as a couple came down the hallway hand-in-hand, almost brushing past her hiding spot.

“Sorry, lady,” the guy muttered when he noticed her pressed against the wall, startled.

The girl leaned close to him, her voice dropping low but carrying anyway. “You really need to move, babe. This place is full of crackheads.”

Renee stayed frozen until their footsteps faded. Only then did she force herself forward until she reached her door.

The note wasn’t a threat, or at least not one that would shoot her in cold blood.

It was from the apartment manager.

FINAL WARNING — THREE MONTHS’ RENT OVERDUE. BALANCE: $3,000. LOCKS WILL BE CHANGED IN 28 DAYS IF PAYMENT IS NOT RECEIVED IN FULL.

She crumpled the paper and shoved the damp warning into her pocket, then jammed her key into the lock and stepped inside.

She dropped her bag by the door, peeled off her wet shoes, and stumbled to the sofa. Curling into herself, she rested her head against the armrest, legs tucked beneath her, water dripping from her hair into the fabric.

Her phone was cold in her hand as she pulled it from her pocket. The screen lit up, harsh against the dim room. Her thumb hovered over a contact buried deep in her list:

💀 Do not call unless LEVEL 10 emergency 💀

She stared at it, her finger hovering as buried memories tore their way to the surface.

Fifteen years earlier.

The bedroom door was shut, and eleven-year-old Renee had her back pressed against it, hands clamped over her ears with two pillows stacked on top for good measure. A faded pink teddy bear sat in front of her, watching her cry.

But no amount of muffling could hide the screaming downstairs.

Maud’s voice was raw, shredded by desperation.

“How can you f*****g do this, Adrian? To our family?”

She coughed hard, the sound breaking in her throat before she launched back into screaming, fury and pain bleeding through every word.

“Two f*****g children are dead because of you! We’re going to lose everything because of your selfishness! All these nights alone, raising Renee, taking care of my mom while she’s dying, and you’re out playing f*****g drug lord? You put a target on our backs, Adrian! We have to leave everything behind because of you!”

Adrian’s voice came back louder, strained and on the edge of breaking.

“I f*****g did it for you, Maud! For you and Renee! Do you think cancer treatment comes cheap? Do you think a regular job could cover half the bills those f*****g hospitals keep throwing at us? He doesn’t know we live here. I’ll fix this, you should just—”

He never finished.

From outside came the roar of an engine. A car tearing down the street, tyres screaming as a violent crash shook the entire house as metal met steel, the sound ripping through the night.

Adrian’s voice cut through the chaos. “Grab Renee and f*****g run!”

Renee blinked, snapping back to the present.

She was still on the couch, thumb still hovering over that number, his number. A single tear slipped down her cheek and hit the phone screen, leaving a blurred smudge of light.

“I still can’t believe you, of all people, were capable of that,” Renee thought, disgust washing through her as she wiped a tear from the screen.