Chapter 2
Indie
Dangerous - Sleep Token
“Another one bites the dust,” Regina—my best friend—sings horribly as I open my en suite door.
Her continued out-of-tune tone makes me laugh, along with risking my eardrums bursting as I walk into my bedroom.
I snicker. “He was definitely the hardest one yet.”
None of the others have been this difficult; sure they weren’t a walk in the park, but what home has a need for so many damn security cameras?
He lives in the safest part of the city.
I tuck the gun away in my bedside table, and the answer blatantly stares back at me as I catch my reflection in the mirror, making me scoff to myself.
Maybe there was a trickle of paranoia for the crimes he’s committed, and rightly so.
Karma’s a bitch, and her name is Indie Kent.
Regina screws her face up. “Tell me about it. That backup firewall? I’ve never had to reset a system to its factory so fast in my life.” She falls back on my bed and stares at the ceiling.
Regina is the technology god of our duo; I’m the deceiving exterminator.
We’re both as morally corrupt as each other at this point.
Where she causes havoc behind screens, I’m conjuring it on the ground.
We weren’t always like this; it’s been quite the darkened path that brought us here. One we were forced upon six years ago.
The fork in the road led to two ways of life.
Try and move on as if nothing happened or do something about it.
We chose the latter.
Our company, Egnever we’ve been inseparable since we were toddlers.
“Nah, I’m good. That bagel place near town will open in a few hours, I’ll grab something then. I’ll likely be staying up until then to create my own failsafe.”
I chuckle at her answer. One thing Regina is, is thorough. She doesn’t take well to stumbling blocks.
It causes an itch in her brain that needs claws raked over it immediately. Especially seeing as we vet all marks for weeks, the fact she stumbled upon trouble intercepting the CCTV will drive her insane. Until she cracks a solution, of course.
Almost four hours later, I’m pulling into the driveway of my childhood home.
The state of Kingstone is the largest in the United States, and my birthplace is nestled within the woodlands that border the capital city of Harrison, like the majority of its land.
It’s just trees and peaks as far as the eye can see.
My childhood home is pretty modest compared to most in the area; the closer to the capital you get, the more lavish the homes are.
It once felt like a secure compound behind the gate, and I try my best to visit at least once a month, but there’s just too much heartbreak that taints the air to allow me to stay long.
Besides, I discovered the city is a breeding ground for a specific pocket of the corrupt upper class.
Harrison is the heart that beats for the rich, sick and twisted bunch of tyrant assholes belonging to our state.
I walk through the foyer and into the dining room, my older sister—Louisa—surprisingly perched at the table.
It’s almost 9am, and I had to rearrange Mom’s dinner plans last night, seeing as I was rather preoccupied.
“Jesus Christ, am I high?” I joke, watching Louisa drag her annoyed gaze from her phone to me.
“Seeing as you would need to be for that outfit in daylight, then most likely.”
Louisa and I began sparking off each other in our later years. More so once she got back from working abroad for a year.
She returned with a bad-ass attitude and a lack of time to spend with family.
She was a hell of a lot meaner, but as the years have passed, I’ve labelled it a diva complex now.
Where I show traits from both of our parents, she shows fucking nothing.
It often has me wondering whether she made a satanic deal to have her personality swapped during her time away.
Either way, it benefits her career, so I guess it suits her.
The only time I can guarantee to see her is at Christmas, and that’s a big maybe.
Or like now for instance, a less-than-convenient visiting time because it’s likely the only spare time she has.
My sister is the Senator of our state, and that means she’s always grasping for time to spend with family. If it isn’t work related, her efforts are minimal.
I self-consciously shift my focus down my clothing choice of dark leggings and a hoodie, making sure I didn’t accidentally put the discarded clothes back on from being sleep deprived.
That’s all I need, perched at Mom’s dining table with unexplained blood stains in front of my civil servant sister.
“Hi, honey,” Mom coos as she wraps her arm around me when I take a seat, one hand sticking out as it clutches a wooden spatula.
“Missed you, Mom, sorry I’m late.” I squeeze her back, catching my sister narrowing her eyes into her phone.
I tighten my own on her. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
Her huff slowly releases before I even finish my sentence, clearly not enough caffeine in her to fill her social battery.
You never know with Louisa; she’s either up for the back and forth, or she wants to get out the room as quickly as possible, like marking the visit off a chores list.
“I have a meeting close by. Thought I would stop in when Mom said you were on your way, see what my baby sister looks like after a year.”
I watch her ass-like smile widen on her face.
The damn irony in her words; I have to find out about her life updates through the internet.
Mom walks back into the room, placing down plates as she rounds the table. A mischievous thrill erupts inside me, forcing Louisa’s face to drop when she realises.
I am nothing if not childish during a sibling battle.
“Louisa was just saying she might host a Thanksgiving party this year, Mom.”
I watch Mom’s eyes light up and my sister’s glow red behind her sockets.
“Oh, sweetie, that would be wonderful! You never have dinner guests round,” she exclaims, and I feel like pulling a scorecard out on my phone.
Louisa always travels for Thanksgiving, work related again. So this will have pissed her right off.
And right on cue, she mouths, “Asshole,” at me, stabbing her fork into her pancakes.
Looks like she’s got a schedule to clear this year, otherwise Mom will be rattling the keypad to her home, turkey in hand.
“This is so nice, isn’t it? My baby girls around the breakfast table, just like when you were kids.” She takes a mouthful, chewing before she speaks again. “How’s work going for the both of you? Are you both remembering to take time for yourselves?”
My shoulders tighten whilst her attention is on my sister.
“Busy busy, Mom. Barry has his annual consumer party in a few weeks’ time, so I’ve been helping him prepare for that when I get a minute.”
My sister has been with her husband since early high school; they’re literally inseparable. She married well; he’s the heir to a premium vodka corporation named Absconditus.
Looking at both of them, they could be mistaken for everything I’ve learned to hate in this world.
They’re powerful and likely have enough money to hide a criminal record. But Louisa is my flesh and blood.
Despite her being the most annoying big sister in the world, she’d never be a part of something like that, nor would Barry. He was like a brother to me growing up. Even though we hardly see them, when we’ve truly needed them, they’ve dropped everything.
I hate to admit, and it’s one of those things I’m ashamed to say I did, but I checked their record. They had their own sororities in university.
I just needed to know that not everyone in power that went to Kingstone University was a part of that secret.
My paranoia back then had me deep within its grasp, and I lost trust for a lot of things.
That alone should ease the burning vengeance inside me, to not want to rip Kingstone apart and unveil every single member out there. That just because there are people within the same tax bracket, the bad only make up a minority.
Unfortunately for my marks, all of them are in a position of influence.
They’ve followed a long line of others just like them. The upper levels of our state’s population are riddled with them. Protected by their supreme status and whatever blood oath they took in university, allowing them to cover up their past crimes.
You’d never hear about it though, because it’s never gone far enough to reach the ears of the public, every victim we’ve traced silenced one way or another.
No one knows what they were a part of.
No one except Regina and me.
“When are your sister and I going to get an invite to one of these lavish events? I’ve got an old ballgown gathering dust at the back of the wardrobe.”
Mom’s been dying to get to one of Barry’s events for years. Mostly because she has a thing for collecting the free bottles of his liquor.
I used to as well; my friends and I’s whole university nights out were funded by the premium liquid he brought round to the house.
I was underage for the most part, so I had to dilute Mom’s stash with water for whatever we stole—it’s probably why she thinks it tastes so smooth.