Chapter 2
Ashley
The switched-on TV draws my attention, and the latest news is being reported in hushed tones. Something has happened that has caused quite a stir in the country.
“Can you turn it up?” I ask, staring at the screen.
“Sure,” Zoe says.
The announcer’s words flow from the speakers.
“...is silent. As we know, he resigned this morning. Vice President Winston Cartwright refuses to give a reason for his decision. Word on the street is his wife Elisabeth’s health, but others claim it’s a political strategy.
Unfortunately, we don’t yet have any confirmed information.
We’re currently awaiting an official press statement, which is expected in less than fifteen minutes.
Hopefully, this will shed some more light on the whole situation.
Stay with us; we’ll keep you updated on events. ”
The video shows the former vice president silently walking down the hall, under security’s watch, as the announcer speaks.
“That’s strange,” Zoe comments.
“Yeah, I agree. Nobody quits a job like that without any warning. It’s irrational.”
“I wonder what really happened. God knows that damn politics is choking on its own lies.” But then, excited, almost jumping in her chair, she changes the subject. “So… How was it?”
My thoughts return to last night.
The rhythmic click of my high heels perfectly mirrored the nervous beating of my heart. I was so pissed off at the time that there was no way it was going to slow down.
For my safety, I should’ve called a taxi or an Uber. Walking by yourself in Los Angeles might have a fatal outcome. Meanwhile, I marched alone, surrounded by a warning aura of “don’t come near me or I’ll kick your ass.”
A wicked smile spreads across my face. I actually kicked his ass.
And I don’t regret it. He absolutely deserved it.
So, last night I had a date.
Is it too much to ask for one nice evening in the company of a charming man? What more could a girl want after almost six months of celibacy?
Well, maybe it’s too much.
Not only was the evening anything but nice, but the guy wasn’t charming either. Correction. He was charming when complimenting himself, completely excluding me from the fun. Before the waiter could give me a second glass of wine, I was already bored. And then it only got worse.
Zoe’s words make me face reality. “Come back for a second, because I’m confused. You went on a date with Dan, or Zan, or whatever his name is, the one you were so into. So how on earth—”
“Honestly, Zoe… How is it possible we share the same genes? Even though you’re incredibly smart, sis, you can be so clueless at times,” I say in disbelief.
“Oh, shut up. It’s not my fault it’s hard to keep up with you.”
I take a sip of coffee. “My date with Bane was a product of a hormonal imbalance, not sound judgment. That’s for sure.”
“Talk about great timing,” she comments and snorts.
“Everything was fine until I noticed my eyelids getting heavy, and it wasn’t because I was tired or had a single glass of wine. The guy was so self-absorbed and so—”
“Boring?”
“Exactly! So boring”—I snap my fingers because that’s the perfect word I’ve been searching for in my head—“that I wanted to fall asleep. I figured we weren’t meant for each other, so I’d simply endure this dinner. I’d try to be a pleasant companion, and then I’d politely say goodbye to the guy.”
“But no...” Zoe rolls her eyes. Gets up to refill her coffee and plops back down at the kitchen island.
“Of course not,” I blurt out. “That would be too easy. After the meal the waiter brought the check. Bane fumbled through his pockets, glancing at me with a desperation, and I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. It was embarrassing. Frustrated, I finally handed my credit card to the waiter. Without a word, I got my card back and left the restaurant.”
“Bane was looking for a gain,” my sister cackles, ignoring my thunderous glare. “What kind of name is that anyway? Bane?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not done yet. So I left with my head held high, disappointed like a teenager after her first kiss, but after a few steps he caught up with me.
Picture him thanking me for the meal. Fuck!
He thanked me and asked to spend the night with him.
And how did he do that? By putting his paw on my boob! ”
My sister’s laughing so hard, I bet her butt will hit the hard floor in a minute. Her own snorts make her laugh even more.
“So I did what I had to do.” I shrug. “I twisted his arm, stepped on his foot with my high heel, and kicked him in the balls. In my defense, it was a reflex. He should’ve known better.
I almost felt sorry for him, but when he called me a bitch while still bent over, he got a close-up view of my knee and I forgot about apologizing.
He was on the sidewalk, in a pool of blood, when I left him there. ”
Tears run down Zoe’s face. I grab the last piece of bacon and pop it into my mouth. There’s nothing left of the breakfast I’d prepared.
After a few minutes, she calms down and even puts on a serious face. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’d love to be as tough and composed as you are.”
My hand moves to her flat palm, and I give it a squeeze.
“You don’t have to be like me. You’re perfect just the way you are. And that’s why you have the best big sister, to kick the ass of any jerk who dares to look at you the wrong way. Best forever?”
At first, Zoe’s smile is small, but my words give her courage. I offer my pinky, and her little finger wraps around mine, and she repeats my words.
“Best friends. Best sisters. Best forever.”
Zoe stands up and clears the dirty dishes.
Moving around the kitchen, she glances at me now and then. With every passing minute, the whole situation seems more and more suspicious.
Clearing her throat, she eventually addresses me, her tone lacking confidence. “Alex called last night. He was furious.”
Ah... Well done, Alex!
I snort under my breath. “He’s always angry these days. That’s nothing new. What did he want?”
“He wants me to tell you that either you stop avoiding him and finally call him back, or he’ll give the job he has for you to the Jackal,” she adds, knowing what kind of reaction to expect from me.
And he’s right. They’re both right!
Her words have the same effect on me as blood on a shark. My senses sharpen, and I feel an uncontrollable urge to kill. Whether it’s because of the Jackal or Alex, it doesn’t matter.
Blood rushes to my ears, and I clench my hands into fists. “Alex said that?” My voice is quiet, but it’s a warning. Zoe’s subtle nod is my signal to launch an attack.
“Son of a bitch!” I spring from my seat and dash toward my room. My phone is in my bag on the floor.
Because it’s totally dead, I give in to my rage while waiting those crucial minutes for the battery to get enough charge to start.
I start to spin the silver ring on my thumb, a habit I haven’t been able to break for many years.
“You fucking traitor!” I attack when Alex answers on the second ring.
“Hi, Princess. It’s good to hear you too.”
Shivers run down my spine.
“Don’t piss me off, Alex. You think you can just call Zoe and say things like that? You think you can mess with me? Provoke me? Use the Jackal as bait? You’re on thin ice.”
“Are you threatening me or promising a good time?” Even in that sentence, I can hear his amusement.
“I’ll kill you!” Loyally, I give him a warning.
“You didn’t save my life once just to kill me now.”
“Sometimes you only realize your mistake after the fact. You can always fix what you’ve fucked up.”
Trying to control my emotions, I blink several times. My eyelid twitches, showing how successful I am. Not.
But Alex is right. A long time ago, I saved that asshole’s life.
I was sixteen at the time and a child raised on the streets.
Before I reached that age, I was already a girl with many faces.
To some, I was an elusive thief; to others, a source of whatever they needed.
Lock-picking was easy for me, even with my eyes shut, and I engaged in illicit fighting at night.
But on the day I met Alex, I took someone’s life for the first time.
The scene before me in a dim city alley caused me to halt. Between the garbage containers, four men had surrounded one guy in a tight circle. They circled around him like vultures, two of them with knives drawn, the third with a machete, and the fourth with brass knuckles glinting on his fingers.
Generally, I wouldn’t intervene and would simply continue with my life, keeping to myself. That day, my curiosity got the better of me.
Watching men fight already excited me back then.
The circle of vultures finally moved to attack the young man. I could see from a distance that he was older than me, maybe in his late twenties, but still young for a member of a motorcycle club. His leather jacket made that clear.
Maybe it was a matter between motorcycle gangs?
Quickly, the victim became the executioner, and the two attackers were already lying unconscious. The third man, wielding a machete, attacked.
The last one, the one with the brass knuckles, was shifting restlessly from foot to foot, and I knew. A moment later, he rushed past me like a ghost. In his escape, he didn’t even notice me. My gaze was fixed on his back when a dull thud reached me.
When I turned back, the man with the machete was lying on top of the other, trying to slit his throat.
Crouching, I picked up the knife one of the attackers must have dropped. I admired its polished surface and dark handle. And then...
Neither of them noticed me. It was only when I stood behind the bastard that the eyes of the twenty-something-year-old lying on the ground found me. I saw hatred and anger in them, which I’d often found in my own eyes. And determination sparkling in his brown irises.