Chapter 29
Displacement
Zoe
I jolted out of bed to a loud crash, confused, panicked, and very sweaty.
“What the hell— Dean!” I shriek when I see that he has busted my door completely off of its hinges and the dresser is in pieces on the floor, my once nicely folded clothes thrown about.
“What the fuck is your damage?” He just stood there, staring at me with nothing to say.
I throw my hands in the air and go to pick out a pair of pants realizing I must have stripped off my bottoms in my sleep.
I look back up to see the other three brothers had huddled in behind Dean.
“Am I not allowed just a single fucking moment of peace?” I pin my withering glare on Max who doesn’t even move a muscle.
They are all frozen in place, still not a single word has been uttered from any of them.
Worry flooding my nerves I still my movements, “Okay, what happened?” They all exchange nervous glances and then Brandon passes me a familiar journal and a folded-up piece of paper.
“Did you read this journal?” I scoff.
“No!” They all rush out, “Not the journal. But that paper did fall out, and we were hoping you could explain it.” Brandon adds.
“Okay?” I stretch out the word, suspicion visible in my expression. I unfold it and read the words carefully.
“You’ll never escape me.” -KH
My blood chills and my teeth are on edge, “What the fuck is this? Some kind of joke?” I scoff, shoving the paper back into Brandon’s hand. “That’s not fucking funny. Who wrote this really?” My palms begin to sweat the longer they stay quiet.
“Hello?” I snap, “Did you all become fucking deaf. Answer me, dammit!” I yell kicking one of my strewn about drawers. Teddy and Brandon flinch at the outburst but the other two stay stoic and still.
“Calm down, Princess. We didn’t write that note, it fell from your journal when we went to pick up Kahl’s heart.” Brandon starts, with his hands up defensively. “We were hoping it was old but…” he waved his hand at my current state, and it’s clear that I’ve never seen this before.
I pull on the sides of my hair and pace to the back of the room to stare out my window. “Little devil…” Teddy whispers and starts to approach me, but I cut my eyes at him to stop him in his tracks.
“No, Teddy. Not now.”
“Okay. Let’s start looking at this logically, it’s clear that this couldn’t be something new from Kahl.
He’s dead, you killed him. A pretty vital organ of his is currently in my deep freezer.
” Max finally speaks, and a reminder of his rejection from last night penetrates my brain, causing me to get angry at a whole new situation.
I scoff and shake my head at him, “Always so fucking logical.”
“Excuse me?” He drops his eyebrows.
“You know what I’m talking about, always so fucking logical with everything. Can’t ever just fucking let go and relax, always so goddamn uptight.” My voice raises higher than I mean it to, but I square my shoulders, refusing to show any weakness.
“Watch your fucking tone, Zoe.” He barks back.
Zoe, not Harpy. I drop my expression, letting the numb take over and infect every inch of my soul, responding with a cold, “Yes sir, boss.”
I turn away from them and look back to my window.
Logically, I know that he sent me to bed because I was exhausted.
Logically, I know that my father did not resurrect from the dead to leave me some ominous note in my old diary.
Logically, I know I know I’m not in a logical state of mind.
I don’t want to feel the emotions coming on at the thought of Kahl still being alive, or being rejected, I don’t want to feel.
“May I get dressed, boss? Or would you like me to conduct the questioning with Deangelo without pants?” My voice is dry, and robotic. I barely recognize the sound, but I know it’s me from the way that the four concerned faces stare at me.
“We’ll see you downstairs.” Max says, in the same dry tone that sounds so cold the air turns thick and frosty, before pulling the other three to exit with him.
Due to my door being shattered on the ground and completely off its hinges, I just close myself in the bathroom.
I need to get out, I feel trapped. It’s too much, it’s all too much.
I stare at the woman in the reflection of my mirror.
I don’t recognize her. Her eyes are distant and glazed over, she has filled out a bit, but she looks…
She looks so… empty. I’m guessing this is what the numb looks like.
She looks calculated, but like a drone. No sign of emotion, no sign of the hurt I know the real me is feeling.
Now is not the time to feel. Now is the time to destroy.
I mechanically wash my face and pull my hair back into a slick high ponytail.
I dress myself in a pair of tight black leather pants, red opened toed strappy heels that are about five inches tall on a slim point.
I slide on a red corset top that’s inches my waist and pushes my chest together to show off ample cleavage.
I take my time with my makeup, adding dark eye shadow, sharp winged liner, and blood red lipstick.
Staring back at the woman in the reflection, she looks put together. Cleaner, but lethal. This is the Numb. The Sparrow.
I don’t rush down the stairs, I take my time clicking down with methodical loud steps so the brothers can hear my approach.
“Let’s get to work, boys.” I call out before I round the corner to go to the cellar, not waiting for them to follow.
I hear them closely on my heels, but I don’t turn to look at them.
“Princess, we don’t have to do this right now.” Brandon speaks in a hushed worried tone.
“Get me your bat, Brandon.” I bark, ignoring his advice.
He doesn’t respond, only tightens his lips into a straight line before passing me his bat that was leaning on the wall next to him.
I whistle as I tap the bat against Deangelo, “Wakey, wakey.” I say in a sing-song voice, “The Sparrow needs to speak with you." I drag out my words as he slowly cracks his eyes open.
“Sparrow?” He croaks in a confused tone. Deangelo looks absolutely pathetic without his hands that are now burned at his wrist nubs.
“That’s right. I have a few questions for you.” I poke the pat into the now charred wound.
“Please,” Deangelo chokes, “I’ll tell you anything, just don’t kill me. I have a family; I have a daughter.”
This makes me laugh, full belly, manic laughter bubbles from my chest. “A daughter?” I shout.
“You have a daughter? But you’ve been delivering young girls into the sex trade?
” I let out a low whistle and looked at the brothers who were standing in various positions around the room.
“Makes my daddy dearest look a little better huh?”
Nobody responds, “Tough crowd.” I mutter to myself.
“So, Deangelo, to my understanding you were partnering up with Jax. Smuggling out product from our warehouses and drugging victims to pass on to the Cambions. Is that correct?” I circle him like a hawk, making sure each step of my heels echo in the room.
“Yes.” Deangelo whispers. So, in response I swing the bat into his left kneecap that is followed by a satisfying crunch.
“Great, thank you.”
Deangelo screams and wails while rocking in his chair that’s bolted to the concrete floor, “Why?” He cries, “I answered the question!”
“I didn’t like your answer.” I shrug and point my metal weapon. “Who were you answering to in the Cambions?”
“I—.” He stutters, “I’m not sure. I only communicated to someone who went by the letter K.”
I pull the bat in the air ready to swing again but he screams, “Wait! Wait, there’s more!” So, I pause, waiting for his answer but he just takes a deep breath.
“Deangelo, do I strike you as a patient person?” I ask, genuinely curious if he thinks I am.
“No. But K, he knows who you are. He was ordering the hits on The Sparrow.” He explains.
“I already knew the Cambions were ordering the hit. Tell me something new, and I might spare your current all-in-one-piece knee.”
He doesn’t answer immediately so I huff a sigh, “Five.”
“Okay hold on.” He sputters.
“Four.”
“Okay, I know something. I do. Please.”
I yawn, “Three.”
“He knows what you look like!” He yells, “And he has told people your name. Not a lot of people, but some people know that you’re Zoe Hera. Daughter of Kahl Hera.” He cracks.
There it is. Now we are getting somewhere.
“Do you know who accepted the current hit?”
“It’s an open call. At least thirty people have claimed it. As long as they deliver you alive, they get five million dollars.” He slumps, clearly giving up. Weak.
“Why do they want me alive?” I ask, not being as menacing as I was previously.
“I don’t know. But that’s a requirement to get the money.” He looks up at me, and I can see in his eyes he is willing to beg for his life. Unfortunately for him, I don’t have a sympathetic bone in my body. And I sure as hell, do not respect a man who begs.
“Are there any more moles in our operation?”
“Not that I know of.” He begins to sob, knowing that he is now close to his demise.
“One last question, Deangelo. Why did you do it? Why betray us?”
He’s quiet again, but I know he won't answer this. He won't be able to answer because there isn’t a good enough excuse, and I won't give him the chance. Before he can look back at me, I bring the bat down to his skull- shattering it with one swift blow. He’s dead before his head even drops, and I toss the bat to the ground now that this part of the job is complete. The metal bat makes a loud clanking sound that echoes loudly in the concrete room, and it’s like everyone in the room is holding their breath except for me.
“So,” I start. “There are at least thirty people that have a target on my back. And for some reason it’s personal with the Cambions new leader.
Brandon can go through Deangelo’s bank statements to see how he was getting paid for bringing the girls in.
And if Deangelo’s family wasn’t directly involved, let’s make sure his children are safe and taken care of financially if necessary.
It’s not their fault they had a shit dad. ”
I lean over Deangelo, and I begin to carve my sparrow insignia into his cheek. I typically do it in the palms of my victims’ hands, but Deangelo here seems to be fresh out of those. I make quick work of it and pocket my switch blade after I wipe the blood on his lap.
I clean my hands off on a nearby rag and turn to exit, “And Teddy,” I call out from over my shoulder. “If you can cut off their heads for me?”
“Sure thing, little devil. What for?” He asks, sounding a little eager.
“We are going to ship them to the holding house Darren told you about. We are no longer playing this game with them. It’s time for the Cambions to learn who is writing the rules.”
I leave them to handle the cleanup and whatever is left to do with our hostages.
I don’t care to see Darren again. Originally, I wanted to be the one who dealt with his fate, but my brain is too occupied now, and if I’m going to be part of this team it’s time I delegate and use my talents elsewhere.
I know who followed me out before I even turned around, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of my attention, so I continue to make my way to the kitchen.
“You got some good information out of him.” The leader compliments.
“I’m good at what I do.” I say, half-heartedly as I look in the kitchen for something to take the edge off.
It’s just after noon, so I allow myself a beer. I deserve it. I keep my numb in place when Max grabs my shoulders to spin me.
“You are good at what you do. And I think I have an idea.” Max fixes his gaze onto mine and I can feel my body wanting to thaw, but I refuse to let go of my newest cold exterior.
“And that’s that, boss?”
My new name for him seems to sting him, bruise him in some way, because every time the word slips from my lips he winces.
The movement is small, but still there all the same.
He quickly corrects his features, wiping away the insult as if it was never there in the first place.
“I think this leader is definitely the mystery man that you never saw. I think he’s after you.
If he worked closely with your father, then he must have some sort of obsession with you, and I think that’s why they want you delivered alive. ” He explains.
I nod along, already coming to that conclusion myself, but I don’t tell him that. Max continues, “We need to go on with our normal job then. Proceed with our normal activities as if nothing has changed. I think that we can draw him out if he sees you with us.”
“Okay.” Is all I respond with, taking another swig of my beer before setting it on the counter with a loud thud.
“Harpy,” Max sighs, I see the ice in his eyes defrost a little, but I ignore it to the best of my abilities. “If this is about last night, I-.” I hold my hand up to stop him right there, refusing to have this conversation.
“Don’t worry about it, boss. No hard feelings, this is a business relationship after all.” And with that I leave him in the kitchen and exit to the back patio.
Nobody follows me out, but I know they are watching me. They are always watching me.
That note has rattled me, and I don’t like feeling rattled.
I also refuse to let whoever this invisible leader see that I’ve been rattled.
I keep thinking back to how that note got in my journal in the first place.
I know it wasn't there the last time I used my journal, which was the same night Karma's ‘kidnapped’ me. Which means someone would have needed to break into that apartment and hoped I’d stumble across it. If that’s the case, we can definitely not have my apartment as a potential last-resort safe house like the brothers intended.
I put a pin in that thought, to remind myself that I need to ask Brandon to pull any local cameras for the nights that followed me joining the Karma’s, so we can see who it was that entered the apartment to leave that little note.
I know I’m probably acting irrationally, but I don’t want to feel the panic that is coursing through me. I refuse to feel it. I don't have time to feel it.
I have never even had the time to feel happy, because I was always busy trying to be strong. Cursed are those who feel the ocean but can express just a drop.