Chapter Three
Ocean Eyes
*SIX MONTHS LATER*
"Mic check." Ryon’s voice cuts into my headset.
"Loud and clear, honey buns!"
"Everly...this is serious." I roll my eyes at my father’s dictating tone.
"Yeah, yeah. It's not like my reputation out here means anything."
"He is entering the building now." Lucas says.
I ready my position and set my rifle on the building edge.
Through my scope I see my target; Ricardo Gonzalez.
A drug lord who's guilty pleasure is selling women and children into sex slavery.
The lowest of the low if you ask me. The wind rolls past me as my hair catches in the breeze.
Removing the displaced hair from my face, I reset my sights on Ricardo.
He arrogantly places himself on a couch as people young and old are cycled through the doors.
He is deciding their fates right in front of my eyes.
"I have a visual." I tell the team.
"Take the shot when you are ready." Ryon says.
Just as I ready myself to fire, there is movement on the roof opposite of me.
Using my scope, I zoom in and my heart stops for a split second.
The devil mask stares back at me and suddenly there is a loud impact nearby.
Looking over to the source I find a bullet embedded in the concrete only inches from my body.
Anger explodes in my brain and I am blinded by rage.
"Ev, come in! What was that?" Lucas asks.
With a growl I say, "The fucker is here! He took a shot at me!" I pull my ear piece out and look back through my scope.
This asshole has the audacity to blow me a kiss as he readies his aim.
I flip him off and shoot. There is a synchronized explosion in the air and within a millisecond there is a second bang.
Our bullets collide with each other. Bullets begin to rain back and forth.
Each one meeting the other with godly precision.
I see a stupid white flag being waved which catches me off guard.
I watch as he uses his index finger to point in the direction of Ricardo before waving goodbye to me. Oh fuck no.
I am at a full sprint down the fire escape, jumping from landing to landing.
With my weapon drawn I fly across the street, dodging oncoming cars.
I find the entrance of the building and shoot the lock causing the door to swing open.
Taking three steps at a time I near Ricardo's room.
Not again. He will die at my hands. Like cat and mouse, I peak around corners moving silently with my gun held tightly in position.
I tear room to room until I land on my destination with a smirk.
I kick the door in and the scene in front of my eyes freezes me in my position.
No fucking way. Ricardo is slumped on the couch with a blade embedded in his forehead.
His men are thrown through the room covered in scarlet fluid.
I hear a whimper and my eyes find the source.
A small child, no older than five, is found hiding under a table.
I approach him quickly and ask "Who did this?"
Trying my best not to scare him, I use a soft hushed voice. He stares blankly at me. I ask again in Spanish.
With teary eyes the boy looks at me. "The Ghost” he whimpers. His accent is harsh but understandable.
“Okay. Take this and find someone.” I quickly say while handing him a card. My men will find him a home and make sure he never ends up here again. He runs from the room and I am left in complete and utter silence.
Walking over to the couch, I push Ricardo off with disgust. He falls grossly to the floor and I sloppily throw myself on the couch.
I place my head in my hands and groan. Again, he got me again.
Took yet another kill from me and for what?
What is his goal? His end game? I throw myself back and close my eyes in frustration.
Six months have gone by and it's been radio silence until now.
More and more of my men have been dying on missions.
More and more stolen targets. Hopefully we can find something on the cameras.
At least to understand how he is getting in and out.
That will give us some type of profile on him.
He is invisible. Untouchable and undetectable.
Until me, no one managed to cause major damage to him.
I know I have a target on my back now. He will keep coming for me until one of us dies.
I chuckle out loud. Both in frustration and amusement at the thought of him managing to kill me.
"You will never catch me, Ghost." Just as the words leave my lips, a knife is placed against my throat while a hand holds my head steady. A low vibrating chuckle comes from behind me. My eyes open to be met with the mask of a devil. Well fuck.
"But I’ve already done that, baby" He speaks. His accent is husky but subtle enough that only certain words pick it up.
He smells clean, like soap mixed with the ocean.
His scent fills my mind as I look directly into his eyes.
They could steal your soul. Blue, so light they remind me of the oceans in Belize.
They are mesmerizing. He is mesmerizing.
I don't have to see his face to know the truth behind the mask. He’s truly beautiful.
The kind of deadly beauty that draws you in before you meet your inevitable death.
I’m so lost in his presence that I almost forget the situation I am faced with.
We stare at each other. Waiting for the other to make a move.
The blade is pressed sharply against my neck causing a trickle of blood to slip out from underneath its pressure.
I don't even blink at the pain. Pain is a weakness.
"Are you scared to die?" He asks, a curious tone in his voice.
"No, I have died. I am not afraid of death, but I won't go down without a fight." With this I grip his wrist and break his hold.
Turning to face my opponent, I launch myself over the couch and onto him. We fight while avoiding hits. Back and further fists are thrown but none land. He managed to get the upper hand and I’m thrown through the air. With a tuck and roll, I jump to my feet. We stand facing each other defensively.
"Weapons or no weapons?" He asks. What the fuck is this? A debate?
"I don't have a preference. Either way, you aren't leaving this room alive." He chuckles at my words. I smirk and move in.
He throws a punch and I dodge it. Swiftly, I kick him in the chest. He's thrown backwards and into a wall.
He composes himself and lurches forward throwing a punch.
It connects with my face and I shake it off.
I've taken worse hits. We take turns throwing punches and kicks.
Each being blocked or dodged. This guy is good, but not as good as me.
I pick up a chair and throw it at him. It falls apart as it makes contact with his arm in a blocking motion.
I throw my foot forward and kick his legs out from under him.
He lands with a grunt and I climb on top of him with a blade to his throat.
"Oh, how the tables have turned." I say with a mocking tone on my tongue.
"If you wanted to ride me all you had to do was ask." I grit my teeth and look him in the eyes as I press my knife into his neck until he bleeds.
Yet again, we hold each other's gaze. There is something about his eyes.
The way they pull you in even when you resist it.
They have speckles of silver in them with tiny swirls of deep blue.
Details you wouldn't notice unless you were this close.
I suddenly come back to earth and realize he has been holding my hips this entire time.
He looks between us and then back up to look at my face.
I swallow and he slightly rolls his hips in response.
This makes my blood boil and I raise the blade in the air.
As it comes down he catches my arm and says, "Don't blow up, Little Siren."
There's a smirk and he gestures over to his other hand.
In it he holds a pin and the realization hits.
This motherfucker is crazy! I dive for protection just as a smoke cloud forms with explosions throughout.
When the dust settles I search for my target, coming up empty.
I scream with everything I have. My tantrum is cut short as a ringing fills the air.
My phone continues to ring while searching for it. Once in my hand, I bring it to my ear.
"The twat waffle got away again." there's screaming on the other end until muffled noises come through the receiver.
Suddenly Lucas is speaking, "Everly! Jesus fuck woman. We have been trying to get a hold of you since you took off. We thought you were dead."
I chuckle. "No, he snuck up and had the balls to pull a knife on me. You know I wasn't having that. Long story short, he copped out with a flash bang."
I hear audible gasps. "What the fuck do you mean he copped out? He's never let a target live."
“Well, he left a child alive after killing everyone in the room. He must have realized he was fucked." This makes me roll my eyes as his words of riding him come back to me. It's like this is all a game to him.
"Meet me at the base, I'll be there in fifteen." A chorus of agreement comes through the phone. My mind is still whirling from our encounter and I know deep down this won't be the last time we are face to face.