1. Ivy
ONE
IVY
“You can’t leave now. If you walk out that door tonight, I swear to you, bitch, you won’t walk back in to a job tomorrow.”
Those were the parting words Frank shouted to me as I hung my apron over a barstool and flipped him the bird, marching out from behind the bar with an air of indifference. It was just a job, after all. And I didn’t have time to mess around. When my whole life’s purpose was on the line, it wasn’t a question of importance. I would find a new job, a way to survive, a way to make money. I always managed to pick myself back up, no matter how hard the blow, without any help from anyone else.
But tonight’s meeting was more important than paying my bills. And so, when given the ultimatum, even though the pay was unmatched across town, the benefits were great, and the other workers were tolerable, I didn’t hesitate to throw it down the drain, just like I had countless times before, all in my search for revenge.
It consumed me to an unhealthy degree. I was probably a walking wet dream for therapists everywhere.
Maybe someday I’d go see one. Get all this shit off my chest.
Or maybe hell would freeze over.
I flipped my phone open again as I walked through the employee locker room. All the waitstaff were women, so we got to share a locker space with the strippers as a perk of having a vagina. I wasn’t complaining. These lockers locked. The ones in the general break room didn’t.
My contact called right on time, and I let it ring twice before I swiped my finger sideways and took her call.
“Bonnie.”
She huffed in annoyance on her end. “What happened to code names?”
“I’m sorry,” I said sarcastically, flicking the code in my combo lock to grab my purse and keys from the little metal box. “B- Dog, go ahead.”
Bonnie snorted her irritation, and I would bet anything the bitch was rolling her eyes where I couldn’t see. “You’re a bitch.”
I was fast losing my patience. “I’m not here to make friends. Either get with it or put that fuckup of a man you call your boyfriend on the phone. I have things to do.”
“West side of the port authority building, in the camera’s blind spots, behind the blue crate. One hour from now,” she snarled into the phone, hanging up on the last word like she was slamming the phone down in one of those 90s sitcoms my roommate was obsessed with.
“Well, at least I’ve got time to grab a shower,” I muttered to myself, sticking my shit back in the locker with a sigh. “Reese better make sure nobody comes through those doors who shouldn’t be while I’m in here.”
I was ten minutes early. Sitting across the street from the port authority station Bonnie specified, I waited until their shitty little beater car rolled into the parking lot, not even bothering to hide the damn thing from the CCTV as they hopped out and meandered right off-camera, looking for all the world like the sloppy, greedy criminals they were.
This changed nothing, but it was something to keep in mind for future interactions. They could be a liability. Cops in this town were lenient because of the Guild, but I wasn’t exactly a member.
Yet.
I slipped through the shadows, managing to get inches from Bonnie’s ear before I stepped into a shallow puddle and gave myself away. She whirled around to face me, screeched, and flung herself backward, windmilling her arms like some cartoon character come to life.
I couldn’t stop the snort that escaped me. It wasn’t like she’d made it easy. But one thing I’d learned about Bonnie was the bitch was vain. And she hated to be mocked, made fun of, or laughed at.
More often than not, it turned her into a screeching harpy.
And that was bad for my ears.
“Are you fucking kidding me, bitch? Why are you over here sneaking up on people?”
“Call it practice,” I mumbled, licking my lips like a feral dog, baring my blunted teeth to her in challenge. “Now, do you have the intel I asked for?”
Bonnie held her hand out grudgingly at Clyde, her not-so-better half. He had the looks, sure, under the grime he wore to deter people from interacting with him. But the brains of the operation was clearly his girl, even if she was a little off her rocker from who knew what drugs she had circulating in her bloodstream.
The folder Clyde produced was shoved unceremoniously under my nose, damn near close enough to cause a paper cut. “The details you asked for.”
I cracked open the folder and flipped through two contracts, both marked for tomorrow. “This is the only open contract?”
Bonnie’s eyes rolled into the back of her skull. “I did what you asked of me. You trying to find a reason not to pay me?”
“Oh, get over yourself,” I spat, tossing a couple hundred bucks at her in a rubber-banded roll. “You get the rest when you come back with the next three hit contracts.”
“Three?” She hissed the damn word, recoiling like I’d slapped her. “We agreed on two. Not three on top of that.”
“You can’t tell me when they plan to hit him, and you failed to find out where and how. So you’ve only done the part of the work I could have paid a hacker to do for me. Probably would have gotten off cheaper for it.”
“Please. You know damn well the only hacker that can get through our defenses already works for us.” She crossed her arms, satisfied with her stance. “I want the rest now or no updated floor plans.”
I needed the floor plans. Negotiating them out of the deal wasn’t an option. “I want the floor plans first, and I wanna know who they’re planning to hit next, or no dice.”
“Then I want double.”
“Absofuckinglutely not.”
Clyde threw his hands up, trying to break up the argument. “Okay, listen, why don’t we try again? Hi. So glad you could make it. We’ve got the details you asked for.”
Bonnie smacked him upside the head. “You idiot, we’re not here for pleasantries. We’re here on business.”
“She’s right, Clyde. This is all business. I just want what I contracted you for, and I’ll be on my way.”
“If you want the rest of the intel, you’ll give me the rest of the money,” Bonnie smirked in my direction as Clyde draped an arm over her shoulder, playing at the devoted boyfriend. “Or we walk now.”
“Fine,” I spat, knowing all the bills I was giving them were fakes, anyhow. “Have it. But I want the floor plans and the annotation I specified, and I want them by the end of the week.”
“End of the week pushes our timeline up. I want another two hundred for that inconvenience.”
I rolled my eyes this time, beating her to the punch. “Whatever. But you get it when you deliver. No sooner.”
I didn’t wait for a response, turning on my heel to stride right back out the way I’d come–in the shelter of all the shadows along buildings and cars that were conveniently inside of the blind spots. Before Bonnie and Clyde bothered to move, I’d already disappeared from the parking lot and burned rubber down the road.
They’d better deliver was all I had to say on the matter. If they didn’t, then I’d have to resort to stalking these fuckers myself, and I didn’t have the time for all that .
I had a double life to lead.
The overhead bell rang as I wandered into the old, decrepit corner store for a drink and something easy to snack on. It was a Friday night, and I had a routine to follow. My little friend would no doubt be waiting for me at home, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. Last time I didn’t deliver, I ended up with more visible injuries than I cared for.
Mister Aberdeen looked up from his paper and spotted my head disappearing down the soda aisle, bobbing up and down as I approached the coolers in the back. A quiet grunt of recognition was all he made in acknowledgment as I meandered into a world of my own.
He didn’t pay me a second’s attention until I returned to his register, arms loaded down with the essentials–a ready-made sandwich wrap, some chips, a packet of beef jerky, two bottled waters, an energy drink, and a single can of tuna.
His eyebrows raised at my haul, but he didn’t remark on it. Instead, he humphed quietly and began ringing me up, waiting for my usual Friday request.
I was, after all, a creature of habit.
“Pack of Signoré menthol hundreds, Abe.” I glanced out the storefront windows to the street beyond, wishing my life hadn’t come to this—but there was no use in going back now. There was nothing to go back to.
Abe frowned as he turned around to comply, griping as his gnarled hands wrapped around the box of cancer sticks. “Them things are bad for you, girl.”
I waved off his consideration and smiled half-assedly, the amusement never reaching my eyes. “So are about a hundred other things I can’t avoid in life. Might as well do what I want, right? ”
“Hmm.”
He said nothing more as I paid on the card reader and shuffled away, the bell like a haunting melody as it chased me back out into the chilly evening air.
Hours later, in the comfort of my bedroom, I flipped through the documents the two biggest idiots in the Guild had managed to put their greasy paws on. I briefly wondered how they’d managed to pull off what I’d asked of them but then dismissed the thought. I didn’t much care to delve into their shady practices. It might be beneficial to know who their inside man was, as there was no doubt in my mind they weren’t doing it alone, but it would be more work I didn’t need. Another point of contact that would be more of a time suck than anything else.
Time was an asset I didn’t have enough of.
If things went south, I’d like to be tied to as few names as possible. Bonnie and Clyde were bad enough.
I was a shadow.
And to the shadows I sprang out of, I’d eventually return.
After I completed my vow on my father’s deathbed.
The dossier on their current open contract was very detailed, and for the first time since I’d accidentally stumbled across them, I found myself thankful for the intel they’d brought me. Figuring out their plans for the target would be easy. He had a strict schedule, and that left little window of opportunity for a hitman to sneak in and do the deed. If I was a betting woman–and I was–I’d put my money on the small window he allotted in his schedule for a private meal. He always got delivery, never daring to set foot outside his room if he could avoid it. It was likely the Guild wasn’t the only group of people gunning for his head.
That would make him a harder target. Guys who knew their days were numbered tended to travel with a large security team, and I was only one girl.
My roommate knocked on my door, and I scrambled to shove the folder under my bedsheets as she swung the door open and peered inside, surprised to find me still awake, no doubt.
“You planning to get any sleep tonight?” she asked, glaring pointedly in my direction. “It’s like three in the fucking morning.”
“And?” I waved my hand around like I really cared what her justification was. In reality, I couldn’t give two fucks. Once I’d done what I set out to do, I’d be bouncing the fuck out of this place, leaving town and all the bad memories here behind me. “It’s not like my one light and lack of music is keeping you up.”
Her upturned nose would beg to differ, but she ignored my comeback, fiddling with the end of a lock of her hair. “So your fucking pet scratched my boyfriend last night when he came over. He had to go get a rabies shot. You’ve got to get rid of it—it’s practically feral.”
“I’ll look into it,” I replied, already dismissing her.
She had the gall to look at me like she expected me to argue as she continued. “Just like that, you’re gonna deal with him? After all these months of me complaining–”
“No.” I blinked at her audacity, then shook my head. “Actually, that’s a hell no,” I amended. “He’s a cat, bitch. Of course he’s going to be pissed when you bring strangers home. This is his territory. Maybe tell your boyfriend to man up or something, I dunno.”
She listened to my words but must not have heard them because the next thing out of her mouth was: “He’s a menace, and if you don’t get rid of him, I will.”
So what if she was right? The little fucknugget was adorable, even if he did bite the hand that fed him. Frequently. And very painfully, too. But I had yet to develop rabies, so I doubted her fucking boyfriend would, either.
“Fuck off, bitch. I pay rent here, too. Leave the cat alone, or I’ll be carving your head this Halloween instead of a pumpkin.” I went back to ignoring her, pretending that the blank screen on my laptop was loads more entertaining than her face. Which, okay, not really a pretense. She was as bland as a saltless saltine cracker and just as dumb. Hell, she was about one step away from being an NPC in her own storyline.
I gave zero fucks about her. I had enough on my plate without dealing with her shit, too. I rose from my bed and opened my window, sticking my hand out to wiggle it tauntingly. When the familiar meow of an alley cat echoed through the crack, I pulled my arm back and popped the top off his can of tuna, carefully sliding it out to my stray. When I turned around and sat back down, my roommate’s eyes were wide as saucers, and rightfully so. Hell, I’d be amazed if someone dared to feed the thing I was campaigning against, right under my fucken nose. But it was a cat, for fuck’s sake. And furthermore, he wasn’t even mine. I just took up feeding him when the little cat lady downstairs moved out and left him behind.
I couldn’t let him fucking die.
And he hated all of my roommate’s boyfriends, so he and I were kindred spirits, of a sort.
She huffed and stuck her nose higher in the air. Any higher, and she might be able to sniff the fucking ozone layer. “The mangy flea-ridden thing doesn’t even like you.”
“If that was all you came in for, you can go. The cat stays. Maybe get a new boyfriend instead. Or a new apartment.”
If looks could kill, hers would have tried me, but I’d seen better death glares in the past, and half of them actually meant it. As she stormed into the hallway, slamming my door and hers in retaliation, I chuckled to myself, flipping open the folder once more, and began formulating a plan.