I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I had on a short, two-piece, black bodycon dress with a slit on my left side for flexibility. I was left-handed in writing and in fighting. The slit was an added advantage.
I accompanied my look with some light make-up, peach lip gloss and black eyeshadow. For the earrings, I went for a silver arrow design mis-match pair and finished off with a pair of suede ankle boots.
I tied my hair in a neat bun above my head and decided on a small silver purse.
8 p.m.
Ding dong!
"You gotta be kidding me!" I complained. The guy was really good with his time.
My palms suddenly grew sweaty, my heartbeat rose, drumming against my chest. I was nervous. Before, I wouldn't even care. Not that I went for dates before, even if it was a mission.
Fucking emotions!
I drew in a breath as I descended the stairs towards the door.
I placed my hand on the door knob, it was shaking.
"Stop shaking!" I scolded myself then opened the door.
I released the breath when I saw who stood behind my door waiting for me.
"Je-Jeremy!"
"Becca!"
We both said at the same time, definitely salient shock written all over our faces.
"I didn't think, I never thought..." Jeremy started.
"You are the mystery guy?" I asked, surprised.
"In the flesh. You do know now I realize you are working for the police."
"With. They didn't hire me. I'm just doing them a favour."
"Says the famous interrogator." He said, smiling.
"Oh! So you've heard of me?" I asked looking intently at his blue-green eyes.
"Nah! Xander told me. You look really good by the way. True to your word, huh!"
"More like yours but thank you." I said, coming into a sudden realization.
"Come to think, this is the fourth time we are interacting yet it seems like we are strangers."
"You're right. First at my father's lab. I didn't quite get a glimpse of how gorgeous you look and you never saw me because your vision was blurry." He reminiscenced.
"Then you ended up calling me, had a heated conversation and bumped at each other quite oblivious." He said, his eyes glinting.
"And now." I finished.
"I think fate is trying to prove something." Jeremy said.
I laughed.
"Yeah right!" I said, rolling my eyes.
"Shall we get going then?" He asked, placing his arm out for me to intertwine mine with.
I nodded my head, intertwining my arm with his as he led me to his car.
Driving out in the night, not sure sure where we were going, I just let Jeremy surprise me. The radio played a slow classical music that made me stifle some couple of yawns.
That failed horribly.
"Tired already?" Jeremy asked, chuckling.
"Nope! Just hungry." I lied.
I was bored. If I had known any better, I wouldn't have agreed to this but if I had to survive I needed to be part of the game.
Money, sure is corrupt but without it, you can be as well sure you'll be stuck in a maze. Not knowing which direction, which route to take. The world is competitive. Nothing comes easy.
To get where I was I had to adapt and find my way through out of the maze. Survival.
"We are almost there." Jeremy assured.
"Hey, the first time you talked to me, you were so calm, warm and gentle but on the phone, everything including your accent was different. Sounded more of Irish. How come?" I asked shifting my gaze from the window to him.
"One more thing, how are you a doctor and probably a leader of the Mafia?"
Jeremy laughed.
"My mother was Irish and you know Xander is American. I grew knowing both languages so I always keep on shifting. Mostly, to strangers on the phone I use Irish. You don't know when the police would decide to claim to 'have a word'." He explained, his eyes fixed on the road.
Oh, the sexy bilingual guy did know he didn't appear on our database. Bloody clever.
"And, I'm not the leader of the Mafia. I'm just the 'middle man'. The Mafioso use me to convey their messages because I'm good with undercover. I decided to help them. Like you, they didn't hire me, I chose to do them a favour. Extra pay doesn't hurt. Survival, am I right?" He added, flashing me a grin.
The car suddenly stopped in front of a small bar.
"This is where you were bringing me? To a bistro?" I asked bewildered.
"Relax! You are dressed for the occasion anyway."
"Excuse me!" I exclaimed as he got out of the car, walking round to my side and opening the door for me. Typical!
"And you haven't answered my first question." I said as I stepped out, him closing the door after me.
"I think you know the answer. Now, may we proceed, Becca?"
I didn't say anything. He placed his hand at the small of my back, leading me inside.
The bar, made of stone and a wooden floor, was dark and sleek with just the perfect amount of people. Some round tables in the middle were empty but the booths at every corner was occupied except for one which was reserved for us. Jeremy led us to the booth.
For a bistro, it sure was busy.
Before I could get myself comfortable, I excused myself to go to the washroom.
I stared at my reflection, mentally questioning myself why the hell I was nervous.
"You okay there?" A small voice asked.
I turned to see a girl, seeming a few years younger than me, wearing an off-white see through dress, with a whole load of make-up on her face, chewing a piece of gum disgustingly. Definitely a stripper.
"I'm fine!" I retorted harshly, looking back at the mirror.
"Are you the boss' new meat or are you applying for a job here?" She asked.
Boss?
I turned to face her.
"Excuse me!" I said and realized that it was too polite for someone like her.
"I saw you coming in with the boss. I just need some new gossip to tell the rest."
I glared at her warningly.
"I am not a subject for gossip." I said in my usual cold tone.
The girl seemed undeterred.
"Fine! The boss will just screw you and drop you like nothing ever happened. Feeling so high and mighty. The ecstasy will soon melt down, honey."
"Don't make me break your bones, bitch." I said between clenched teeth.
Wait! I don't threaten. I do.
I abruptly, out of the blue, take the girl's arm and twist it behind her back. I then whispered in her ear.
"I'm here for pure business with your boss and I could make your arm my business too." I warned.
"Dressed like that, yeah right! Just admit to yourself you are calling for his attention. Maybe he will give it to you since other girls have failed but that doesn't mean you won't tear up like the rest of them."
She had some nerve and she was getting on every one of mine. She didn't even know me.
And just like that, I snapped and broke her arm. The girl screamed just as the door handle jiggled.
I stepped from behind the girl, washing my hands then opened the door to be met face to face with Jeremy.
"I thought you flashed yourself down the toilet. Thought I should check up on you." He said.
He was about to continue but a whimper behind me made him draw his attention over my shoulder. I smiled, walking out.
"Lila, what happened?" Jeremy asked, walking past me towards her.
"Your crazy new girlfriend broke my arm. You son of a..."
"Please! Save the insult for someone who deserves it. I actually did you a favour, Lila!" I spat.
"More than one of your small bones would be broken. Just hold your tongue around me next time. You should thank me. I'll be waiting." I said making my way to our booth.
Our food had already been served. Was I gone that long?
Jeremy had ordered us both some lasagna, spicy potato sprinkled with coriander leaves and salad on the side. He even ordered a bottle of red wine that was delicately poured on our glasses. A bit classy for a bistro.
Point of correction, he requested. He's the boss, why would he order?
"Enjoying the food?" Jeremy asked as he joined me.
"Never thought I'll find someone with the same taste as mine."
"Lucky me, then." He said.
I took a sip of the wine. My tastebuds almost burst. Jeremy was looking at me sternly, as if waiting for my reaction.
"You like it?" He asked.
"Which one is this?"
"It's from Ireland, my grandparents' vineyard. According to me, makes the sweetest wines." He said, taking a sip from his own glass.
"I'm jealous." I said, taking another sip.
"You've impressed me, what you did back there."
"It was nothing. I was just making it clear I am not a toy for kids to play with. I've got standards and I'm living up to them." I said.
"No, really! And I want to use you right now."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, savouring my last bite of the delicious food. I loved the taste of spices in my mouth.
"Well, a certain father of mine, told me of your expertise in intimidating and blagging information out of people, I guess you don't mind if I use you to do the same. Just not for the police, for me."
"I don't take orders. I choose to do things myself, my own way."
"Sure! I'm not against that at all but if you want some information relevant to the police, you'll have to take my orders. Otherwise, we'll just sit and talk like I brought you here for a date, which I don't mind at all." He demystified, leaning on the brown leather of the booth, taking a sip of the sweet wine.
I sighed in defeat.
"What do you need me to do?"
"The middle table over there is reserved for four Mafiosos. I want you to go and make yourself comfortable on one of the chairs and wait for them. It won't be long until they arrive."
"But there are only four chairs."
"Exactly!"
I needed a drink.I filled my wine glass then made my way to the said table. I picked a random chair and sat, waiting nervously. I quickly regained my composure when four handsome men walked towards me.I leaned on the chair and sipped from my glass, plastering a smile
I stared at the beaten man in front of me. His jet black hair was scruffy, his brows a bush over his eyes and had a dirty line of shaven moustache under his nose. His nose looked broken one too many times as it faced the left.His white dress shirt and pair of black dress pants were covered with a layer of dust from when I tuckled him to the ground.I didn't have time for him
"Becca!" A voice, low, deep but soft, called.I closed my eyes even tighter not wanting to wake up from my dream where I was the queen of the dark, sitting on a black acrylic royal chair with a gold wood finish. Every morning I woke up, I would walk to the mausoleum connected to my palace by an underground tunnel, clanking my heeled boots along the cobblestone tiles as I checked on my prisoners. Each cell had someone who had crossed my line one way or another. It wasn't until I walked to the end where two cells were separated from the rest. The cells
I knocked on the old, all too familiar oak wood door, memories of the last moments I had there flooding my mind. They were still fresh and bruised just like a wound from a bicycle fall.My foster mother opened the door. Shocked to see me, she called my foster father then moved to hug me."I can't believe you are here. We left off on the wrong foot. I never thought you'd come back." Shamali said pulling away just as Ian appeared beside her."Becca! It's so great to see you." He said, hugging me too then ushered me inside.I walked in the newly renovated house. What used to be a polished wooden floor was replaced by a stone vinyl cushion. The wood on the stairs was evenly polished and shiny, a brown carpet running all through only allowed to expose the sides.Just by the door, there was a long, raised stool cabinet that gracefully held three picture frames. Two of them were of Shamali and Ian in Venice while the other one, between the two was of me whe
I stopped at the red light and nursed my cut, using an Elastoplast to cover its ugliness. It was best to keep off dust and air from the cut.I wondered if my parents were looking for me or they had given up with their search. Sewing my name on the dress was clever, making that as their first lead but there was no report of a missing child over all the years. Were they dead? Did they think I was dead?
"Becca, I can-let me make this up to you.""Don't you give me that threadbare crap." I scolded as I picked myself up."You've known all this time we were related, haven't you?" I asked as I forced him by his arm to face me. He still didn't spare a glance, instead his ga
Jeremy's POVBecca's father removed his flannel after a failed attempt of the mother ripping her skirt off. The flannel was all bloody from the contact of his hands which he had used to apply pressure on the gunshot wound. Well, that was the purpose it was supposed to serve, so I took the flannel begrudgingly and pressed on the wound to prevent further bleeding."Open your eyes, Becca! I'm here. Please! Look at me!" I solemnly begged.It was my fault."Call the ambulance!" I demanded."It's on its way." Her father, Joe, if I remembered correctly from her memory, replied."Will she survive?" Her mother asked, apprehensive."If the ambulance makes it on time." I said, pushing on the flannel harder, mentally smacking my head for my stupidity for some ulterior motive.I tried to be honest with myself. Becca was different in every which way. Cold, brutal, definitely, and her not trying at all to please anyone made h
"Spill!" Xander interposed, walking into his office where I had hid myself. He made himself comfortable on one of the armchairs across from me and crossed his legs. He was still on his scrubs since two hours ago."What do you want me to say, father?" I asked, meeting his eyes."Why you got Becca shot. She just got a life back and there you are on the verge of ruining it." He said, raising voice."What do you mean? She was perfectly alright." I asked frazzled, furrowing my eyebrows."After the surgery she came to feel again. She could now decipher things and make decisions without being stoic, violent or repulsive. She was just starting to become the person she was in the first place. Did you know she went back to her foster home after thirteen years, where they had kicked her out? She wouldn't have if she didn't feel anything."I leant back on the chair, silent."Jeremy!" He called lowly, concerned."Fine!-Dan shot her.""Dan?