Willow
“When are you planning on leaving today?” My dad’s voice comes through the phone. I’m in my room trying to pack for a trip that has an unknown return date. I keep my phone tucked between my ear and shoulder as I try to fit another pair of shorts into my bag.
I usually try not to take advantage of my family’s money; I like making my own. But show me one person that would fly commercial for an international flight instead of private, and I’ll show you a fucking liar.
“Will!” Dad’s voice pulls me out of the battle that I am currently having with my luggage.
“Sorry, Dad. I’m still packing since I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” I say, feeling guilty.
He called me to check in again before I left.
He won’t admit it, but I think it’s harder to be away from me for an extended period of time since losing Mom.
I hate that I’m not going to be with him and my idiots while they are still grieving.
“It’s fine, baby girl. We aren’t going to get back until tonight, so remember to text us before you take off and the second that you land,” he says, and I can hear some of the stress in his voice.
“I will, I promise. I’ll even call when I can, and text, but knowing Gig’s ass, he’s going to find some security camera that he can hack into so you guys can stalk me from afar,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
“Sounds about right. Now, remember all of the rules, and be safe. I love you. Oh, and your spotter will meet you there the day after you land. I can’t send him until we’re done with this job.” We say our goodbyes and hang up.
Uncle Mark, Aunt Jaz, and Sophia left last night after dinner. I loved that they were able to spend one more day with us. I always love visiting with them. I hate that we are so far away now, especially since Sophia’s growing up so fast.
After the way I met Jaz, they decided to make me Sophia’s godmother.
I didn’t think it was the best choice, but I went with it anyway.
We had dinner, and I baked more cookies since the idiots ate the first batch.
Uncle Mark seemed pretty reserved after finding out that one of his chapters caused so much pain to my mother and family.
I reassured him that he had no idea, so he has nothing to feel bad about.
I feel like he’s stuck between loyalty to his club and guilt for not knowing sooner.
He’s the National President of the Lost Knights, and I know that he takes it seriously.
I have been at his clubhouse for most “family-friendly” events, or just stopping by to visit with everyone, and he has always made sure that his chapter stays respectful to the friends of the club, not just their own families.
I think he was planning on stopping by the Hidden Hills chapter on his way back home, but that’s between him and his club.
I have my first job back since Mom got sick.
Moving here, I decided to start two businesses.
When we lived in Tennessee, I was able to graduate high school and college early.
I had a lot of time to focus on my studies again when we found out that my cancer came back about two months after I saved Jaz. It was not a good time for our family.
I think that’s when my parents got so close to Uncle Mark and Aunt Jaz.
The second they heard about the test results, Aunt Jaz stepped in and took over everything at home for my mom.
When she was in labor with Sophia, she made sure that she sent someone from the club over to stock our fridge and help take care of the house.
We had plenty of people living there to help, but no one questioned Aunt Jaz or my mom.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t a first-time thing for our family. We were used to me being in and out of the hospital, the meds that were always next to the sink in the kitchen ready to go, and the bad days where they just had to sit and watch me slowly deteriorate and come to terms with dying again.
Even if it was the second time around and I didn’t bat an eye about it, my mom still cried while she had to shave my hair that had started to grow back.
That was when Jaz put her foot down and would kick Mom out of the house every week for a minimum of five hours and stay with me while she was gone.
I think this is what helped us the most this time around.
I was in remission again by sixteen. What hit me hardest in the second round of cancer was the acceptance that I was supposed to die.
It was worse this time, and everyone could tell.
I wanted to be there for my family, but my fear of dying was completely gone.
I was almost welcoming it at some point during those four years.
But I lived for my family. I couldn’t imagine them hurting, so even when it would’ve been easier to let the cancer take me away, I fought to stay with them.
As I slowly got my strength back, I started training with my dad and brothers again.
I think Dad hoped it would help pull me together again, like the first time, but it didn’t.
I was no longer forgiving to my body for almost killing me again.
If cancer couldn’t take me the two times that it tried, I wanted to see how far I could go.
After I rescued Jaz, I decided that I could help people in those situations.
I was very clear when I told my dad what I wanted to do: that I did not want to be in the family business, but instead, I wanted to go on my own.
I wanted to be a spy, an assassin, a contract killer, but not a thief or anything like that—I still had morals.
I didn’t want to work with a team and take orders.
My dad flipped, and then told Mom, who had a worse reaction.
They told me no, and they almost took away my privileges to the training facilities.
So, I decided to finish up my schooling online, because after cancer, they were not going to make me suffer by forcing me to be around people my age, too.
I started looking around the dark web—which is not as hard to get on as people make it seem—to see if there was any need for my services.
Turns out, there are a shit ton of people that want other people dead.
I guess the “normal” teenage rebellion was too tame for me.
After a few jobs, I got the nickname “Fox,” because I’m quiet and stalk my prey.
It was okay, but I wish I got something cooler, like Wolf or Night Falcon.
I guess it’s too bad you can’t pick your own nickname.
After a few months of being Fox, somehow, my parents found out.
I blame Gig, because he’s the only one nosy enough to lurk on me and find me on the dark web.
I started to make more money than any sixteen-year-old should have access to.
It started to give me anxiety, so I just put it away and didn’t think about it.
My parents went crazy and made me stop and clean the soldier’s barracks for a month.
After a few months of pushing myself in training, I approached my dad again.
I told him that he was planning on having us join the family business anyway, so what’s the difference that I start freelancing now?
I had to explain to him that after everything I had gone through, there was no childhood for me to live out.
That I will never be “normal,” and that there was nothing that could bring that back.
It took a few days, but he finally started to see it.
He talked my mom around and said I could continue if I followed his rules.
Looking back, I didn’t realize that he never set an age requirement on them, which is why I still follow them to this day.
At this point, I’m used to them, and know that they bring my dad a little comfort.
He still doesn’t like me working on my own, so if I can help him feel better, I don’t mind keeping them up.
The rules were simple, and there were no arguments from me about them. They were as follows:
I would stay “the Fox,” and no one would know that it was me besides our family, which included the soldiers, Mark, and Jaz.
He would go through all job offers with me. He didn’t want me to get in over my head and take jobs that I’d regret.
I had to wear an earpiece and a bodycam on all jobs. He wanted to be able to have a visual from my POV, and not just the security cams. That way, he could be “with me,” but I could still work alone.
I needed to take a “spotter” with me for international jobs. I didn’t have to include them in my plans, but I had to at least have someone in the same country as me if shit hit the fan.
These rules have been in place since I was sixteen, and there’s no point in changing them now.
I don’t want to be in the family business, but they ask me to take certain jobs for them if there is a situation where they can’t go in full-force.
I also have all my job requests go through Dad.
He isn’t choosing them for me, but he can filter them and show me the ones that I would actually consider doing.
Also, I don’t have to deal with people because he’s the only point of contact for me, so it works out for everyone. He refuses to take a cut of the money, even when I try to make him. He always says this way, he can have an idea of what I’m doing and be involved with my “freelancing.”
Dad left early this morning for a job out of state.
He was hoping to make it back before I left for Columbia since we do not know exactly when I am coming back.
I guess one drug lord stole another drug lord’s daughter to try and take over their business.
It sounds a little drama-filled for my taste, but they’re paying me a shit ton to get her back, and I push jobs with women and children to the top of my list. I feel like I need to get out of Texas for a bit, so I’m putting this as a win for a first job back.