Page 1 of Sin

CHAPTER 1

KIERRA

Asilent scream tears through my lungs.

The men have come for me.

I know without asking why.

So, I do the same thing I’ve done for the last three years.

I run.

CHAPTER 2

KIERRA

“Get back here, bitch,” the man with the gun yells at me as I dodge him, and run from alleyway to alleyway, desperately trying to get away from him. My lungs burn, tears sting my eyes as I do the only thing I know how to.

Run.

There is nothing else to do. A twenty-one-year-old woman up against a man with a gun, I will never win. I’m not armed. So unless I’m going to kill him with my backpack filled with clothing and my pathetic little pocket knife, I have to get away.

I hid in Atlanta for three months. Then I went to Los Angeles, Bismarck, Boston, and Detroit. The list is endless. Now I’m leaving Roanoke, Virginia. I’ve been running since I was eighteen and there’s no end in sight because everywhere I go, they find me. If I can ever stay in one place long enough to get a job and save money, I’ll move to Canada. Or England. Anywhere that’s not here.

I try to act casual as I walk into theGreyhoundbus terminal. After fixing my Seahawks hat, lowering the brim, I walk up to the window to buy my one-way ticket out of here.

“Can I help you?” the ticket lady asks and I take a deep breath, “Yes. I need a one-way ticket to Las Vegas. The earliest departure, please.”

Her fingers fly across the keyboard. Without glancing away from the screen, she nods, “I’ve got one leaving in nine minutes, so you’ll have to hurry. It’ll be eighty-four dollars and ninety-six cents plus the three ninety-nine service fee.”

I pull out the cash and slide it through the small opening. “Thank you. What’s the travel time?”

Taking the money, she smiles softly, “Sixty-five hours and forty minutes.”

She slides the ticket to me, “Bus number twelve, but you better hurry.”

I nod my thanks and run through the long building until I get to where the buses are parked and run out just as the bus closes the doors. I yell, “Please!” Running as fast as I can, I bang on the window, “Please. Let me on!”

He opens the door with an annoyed expression. “Thank you,” I say, out of breath and my heart pounding so hard my chest hurts.

“Luggage?”

Shaking my head, I admit, “Nope. Just this.”

I motion to my backpack as I hand over my ticket to the man that looks at me like I’m the single reason for every wrong part of his life.

I take a seat and breathe for what feels like the first time since they once again spotted me. I know I won’t be in Nevada for long because they will find me again. The servers make a lot of money in the casinos. Maybe, just maybe, I can find a job to get the cash I need to get the hell out of this country.

CHAPTER 3

KIERRA

Something funny happens when people try to exit a bus. Everybody scrambles to be off first and right now I really don’t understand it. The bus is air-conditioned so it would make sense for everyone to wait in the cool air patiently. Instead, people push each other as they pack together like sardines. The teenage girls in front of me argue about who is wearing what to the Usher concert tonight. I roll my eyes. If only I had wardrobe problems instead of hoping I’ll be alive this time next week.

I step off the bus into the hottest heat I’ve ever felt. It’s like I stepped into the world's largest hair dryer. It’s not humid, but it’s hot with a capital ‘H’. As I leave the bus station, I watch all the cars zooming by. People stand around staring at the neon signs. It’s really something. There are large groups of tourists all taking pictures, with one person in the group holding a sign in a language I cannot read. So many hotels. There are a ton of different themes, New York, Paris, a Circus. It’s like the entire world in one spot. A man hands me a flier and I look down at it while I blush. I can’t see my face, but I can feel the burn. It’s a listing of girls offering services and a few sex clubs. I stuff it intomy blue backpack instead of throwing it away because I don’t want to be rude.

Las Vegas is huge. Okay, not exactly new information, but until you see it with your own eyes, you don’t realize what it’s like. I sit in the back of the cab while staring in awe out the window at the millions of lights on the strip. There’s one sign that causes emotion to bubble up in my chest.Cirque du Soleil's Kàis at theMGM Grandand instantly makes me think of my mom because she swore up and down she’d see that show before she died. Sadly, she didn’t. Because of them. The sadness turns to anger, but I have to squash it down because it won’t keep me alive. Maybe I’ll get lucky in Vegas and make enough money to get the hell away from these madmen. I nearly laugh out loud at myself because that’s exactly what every gambler thinks when everybody knows the house always wins. Another sign catches my eye. It’s the same place that was in that flier.

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