A Billion Reasons To Hate You

Chapter Five: Tattooed Threat.

The note slipped from her hands, but she quickly snatched it back and tore it to pieces, shredding it until only scraps remained on the floor. Her fingers trembled so much from shock that she almost dropped her bag while hurrying to leave.

Her lungs struggled to keep up, breath hitching as she hurried to put on her shoes. She almost fell when she stood, catching herself on the wall before stumbling toward the door. No farewell, no explanation; words failed her.

She just had to get out, her body moving instinctively, dizzy and shaking as the room spun around her.

She rushed down the hallway, hardly noticing the muffled music still playing outside. Her sole focus was on leaving.

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

She didn’t glance back at the club; instead, her eyes darted around her. She examined the shadows, the cars, and the seemingly infinite stretch of asphalt, ensuring no one was lurking nearby.

As she gazed toward the exit, a black SUV started approaching her. Its tyres crunched loudly over the gravel, each pebble making itself heard as it moved slowly. The dull red glow of its taillights spread across the dingy lot, casting a faint, unsettling 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, each 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, thudding to the ground.

The SUV’s window slid up as it drove off, and the shock froze her in place. She couldn’t grasp what just occurred, her mind trying to keep up with her pounding heart.

Renee didn’t remember getting home.

In an instant, she was outside Liquid Confidence; in the next, she found herself in the rain at the foot of her apartment building, drenched completely. She stared at the doors as if they had suddenly materialised, attempting to piece together the gaps in her memory. 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, her hands still shaking slightly as the door creaked open.

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

Renee froze when she saw something on her door—a folded slip of paper tucked under the frame, like the one at 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 coldly to her skin. She held her breath, straining to hear footsteps, voices, anything that might signal danger and tell her to run for her life.

However, all she could hear was the distant rush of traffic outside.

A burst of laughter shattered the silence as a couple walked down the hallway hand-in-hand, nearly brushing past her hiding spot.

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

The girl leaned closer, her voice quiet but still understandable. “You should really move, babe. This area is full of crackheads.”

Renee remained motionless until their footsteps disappeared, then she finally moved forward to reach 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, shoved the damp warning into her pocket, then inserted her key into the lock and entered.

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 closed, and eleven-year-old Renee leaned against it, pressing her hands over her ears with two pillows stacked for extra soundproofing. A faded pink teddy bear sat nearby, witnessing her tears.

However, no matter how much they muffled it, the screams downstairs were still audible.

Maud’s voice was hoarse and strained from desperation.

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

She coughed forcefully, the sound catching in her throat before she burst into screams, with fury and pain evident in every word.

“Two innocent children are dead because of you! We’re about to lose everything because of your selfishness! All those nights alone, raising Renee and caring for my mom in her final days, while you’re out acting like a drug lord? You’ve put a target on us, Adrian! We have to abandon everything because of you!”

Adrian’s voice boomed back, rough and untamed.

“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, its tyres screaming. 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, her thumb hovering over that number, his number. A single tear slipped down her cheek and landed on the phone screen, leaving a blurred smudge of light.

“I still can’t believe you, of all people, could do that,” Renee thought, a wave of disgust washing over her as she wiped away a tear from the screen.