Total LockDown

By: A.T Smith

LockDown Part Two


I would like to express my upmost gratitude to a fantastic friend who has slaved away editing Total LockDown for me. Katie Stead you are a star and one in a million.

My thanks go to all the of the girls on my street team, you are all amazing and I love you all for the continuous support you give me.

Lastly I would like to thank my family and boyfriend for once again putting up with my compulsion to write, write, write. I could never thank you all enough for never standing in my way and always encouraging my ideas and creativity. I love you all with my entire heart.


This world is never long enough for one person. Recently I discovered an old friend, from school is suffering with the hideous disease we all know as cancer. He is my own age, twenty-one. He is having his second lot of brain surgery and telling cancer to go do one. I want everyone to join in with him and the entire world to kick cancer’s arse.

Reece Hawley, you are truly a warrior of this world. People may box, people may fight wars, but above them all you are the real hero and survivor, you hold the strength within you that none of us are even privy too. I will admire you ‘til the day I cease to live. There will never be a day that passes that I won't think of how incredible you are, how determined and strong you are.

I have known and lost some of my closest friends to cancer, but none of them have the willpower you do. Nothing seems to knock you down.

There aren’t enough words in the English vocabulary to express my gratitude to you, someone who doesn't give up, doesn’t use any excuse to live their lives. You prove to us all, no matter who you are, how well you are or how rich you are, there is a life to live.

This book is dedicated to you. To everything you are and everything you will continue to be.

Reece, your own hero, the world’s hero, MY hero.

Ariana Temperance Smith

“Survival can be summed up in three words –

never give up.

That's the heart of it really.

Just keep trying.”

Bear Grylls

Chapter One Leighton

Chapter Two Abigail

Chapter Three Leighton

Chapter Four Abigail

Chapter Five Leighton

Chapter Six Abigail

Chapter Seven Leighton

Chapter Eight Abigail

Chapter Nine Leighton

Chapter Ten Abigail

Chapter Eleven Leighton

Chapter Twelve Abigail

Chapter Thirteen Leighton

Chapter Fourteen Abigail

Chapter Fifteen Leighton

Chapter Sixteen Abigail

Chapter Seventeen Leighton

Chapter Eighteen Abigail

Chapter Nineteen Leighton

Chapter Twenty Abigail

Chapter Twenty-One Antonio

Chapter Twenty-Two Debbie

Chapter Twenty-Three Leighton

Chapter Twenty-Four Abigail

Chapter Twenty-Five Leighton

Chapter Twenty-Six Abigail

Chapter Twenty-seven Leighton

Chapter Twenty-eight Abigail

Chapter Twenty-nine Leighton

Chapter Thirty Abigail

Chapter Thirty-One Leighton

Chapter Thirty-Two Abigail

Chapter Thirty-Three Leighton

Chapter Thirty-Four Abigail

Chapter Thirty-Five Antonio

Chapter Thirty-Six Georgia

Chapter Thirty-Seven Leighton

Chapter Thirty-Eight Abigail

Chapter Thirty-Nine Leighton

Chapter Forty Abigail

Chapter One Leighton

I’m sat in my car and the heater is blowing full force onto my face. The chill outside, icing the pavement up, is trying its hardest to break through the metal casing of my Bentley. My very core is cold, frost bitten and frozen over. My heart is pounding an unsteady rhythm against my ribcage, every pound of it penetrating my eardrums, another reminder of the anger inside of me. I can feel the metal grip of my beloved glock, digging into my back as I’m thrown back into the chair from the sheer power of my car.

My foot is pushed fully to the carpeted floor, the speedometer soaring as every painful second ticks by. The dingy brick buildings of London are dissipating into the beautiful, green rolling hills of Surrey. These are hills I once found warming and homely, now just tormenting reminders of what awaits for me. The very thought of walking back into my home and seeing her there, holding my beautiful, innocent baby girl in her arms, makes me physically sick. If Melissa wasn’t the spitting image of me, intense green eyes and a mop of dark blonde hair, then I wouldn’t even believe she was mine. If Abigail is able to fuck the man that nearly killed her, our daughter and my best friend, then I was clearly mistaken about the kind of woman she is.

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