Crossroads

You're being fucking stupid. It's probably nothing.

Hayley's finger was hovering over the green button, seconds away from pressing it and answering the phone. She wasn't sure why her body was reacting like this - but her joints were stiff with fear and her throat was torn between letting out bemused peals of laughter or spewing vomit all over the dark brown carpet.

Private.

A small, insignificant part of her - locked away in the corner of her mind and screaming to itself - knew why she was so scared. The larger part of her brain, however, was driven solely on pride - and it despised the terror that gripped her body.

It was that part of her brain that made her lips twist into a grimace and her thumb press onto the green button.

Bringing the flip-phone up to her ear, she hesitated before spitting out;

"Who is it?"

"No need to be so rude, Hayley."

This was why the smaller part of her brain was scared. Because deep down, she fucking knew that they would be the one to call her.

"What do you want?" She clenched her jaw, ignoring the chill that seemed to seep into her bones and bubble under her skin.

"I think you know exactly what we want. You owe us."

Hayley immediately let out an angry huff.

"I don't owe you shit, Clyde." Her voice dwindled down to a menacing hiss, "You said-"

"We said we'd overlook your debt-" Clyde's voice lost its gruff quality, almost turning friendly. "If you did a few jobs for us."

"That was a year ago. I thought I'd finished all of your fucking jobs."

"Well, you thought wrong, didn't you?" His voice was dripping in amusement, which only made the brunette clutch the phone tighter.

"This is ridiculous - its been a year. You can't force me-"

"Floor five, flat two, Cleveland Avenue. W11 3LT." He recited it in such a serious tone, it caught Hayley off guard.

"Excuse me?" She gripped the towel tighter against her chest, instinctively glancing at the window in her living room.

"Floor five, flat two, Cleveland Avenue, W11 3LT. That is your address, isn't it?"

A chill spread throughout her body, and she anxiously glanced at the large window again, paranoia grabbing ahold of her. With a deep inhale she stood up and pulled the thick dark curtains over her window.

"Are you trying to intimidate me?" She tried to hide the slight trembling in her voice, one eyebrow raised.

"No. Just warn you."

She turned away from the window, looking down at the towel she was wearing and deciding to get dressed. If they did make a move and break into her house - she wouldn't put it past them - she didn't want to get beaten in a towel.

"Of course." She sighed, turning the corner into her room and shutting the door softly behind her. "You're really fucking cliche, you know that?"

Hayley had installed a lock on her door, a few odd months ago - and she made sure to use it now. You could never be too careful.

"That's not very nice; we're practically family. I'm almost disappointed that you're refusing to come." The words were quenched in sarcasm, and she responded with hostility.

"No one there is family to me."

"Are you sure? Because last time I checked, Sam was still with us."

Another curse word slipped from between her lips, and she couldn't ignore how tight her chest felt at that point, or how light her head seemed. Why was he still with them? Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, and with the thought of Sam, she crumbled.

"Fine. Fine. I'll come."

She instantly began to regret her decision. In that damp little room, the words rang out with such a sense of finality. Like a door was being slammed behind her, trapping her god-knows-where.

But even though she certainly didn't owe them, she owed Sam.

"You know the place. Tomorrow night, at eleven. Don't be late."

The drone of the dial tone followed, and with a shaky sigh she pulled the phone from her ear and rested it on her bed.