Chapter 5
Venom
Two days earlier
Location:
Hollow City
I turned up the volume on the radio the minute I passed the gray and black sign with ‘Welcome to Hollow City’ written in bold. It’s a dreary, quaint spot in Long Island, New York, where the beauty happens along with the ugly.
The very ugly. And it’s my home.
My head nodded to the melody that I love, and it’s the Hollow City anthem. It truly is a mere black city where it eats everything that you hold dear alive. Leaving your fears right in front you, taunting you to face them. I continued to rock to the tune as the road opened up so I can pass a bridge, displaying a full view of the shining skyscraper buildings lit with white luminescent lights.
Although I love the song, being back here gives me shivers to my spine and resentment bubbling in my stomach. Almost similar to wanting to puke, but all you’ll get is yellow stomach acid. Ever since arriving here, I have been on the move nonstop, keeping a low profile, ensuring my identity doesn’t come up in traffic scans. And on top of that, my sleep schedule is shit, but it’ll be worth it.
I’m home . Finally.
I haven’t been back here in twelve years. I had no reason to since the relationship with my mother is dead, including my father and brother, who are actually dead. The day someone kidnapped and killed Carter, everything changed for me. Including my father and how he wanted to protect me and my mom, who only wanted to move on.
You’re my only child. I can’t lose you, too.
My father’s voice circulates in my head, and my breath becomes shaky. I shut my eyes slowly. Those simple words always motivated me, kept me level-headed to stick to the goal. I won’t let you down. I will get revenge on my brother and best of all, I’ll kill the person whose fault it was all along.
Ronan.
Carter’s best friend, the boy I once saw as family, another brother, although not related… he was…part of us in a way. I tighten my fist around the wheel, the resentment bubbling up full speed. Now, to me, he’s just a billionaire asshole who’s sitting lavishly in a yacht somewhere and unharmed. I’ve looked into him every year since enlisting in the military. And it’s always the same.
‘Owner of R.A.R.E shut down after an alleged kidnapping. Where is the billionaire mogul?’
He was once creating cool gadgets, selling big time. He and Carter were getting far and becoming well known. But now who knows where the hell he is? I’m sure he ran away like a bitch from fear. I may not know where he is, but what I do know is that if it wasn’t for him, my brother would be here.
I ball my fist, swallowing to contain my swelling throat. I open my eyes, looking down at my phone, waiting for the text.
Finding a home and then a cover-up job was not hard at all. It’s remarkable what a smile, a fake ID, and social security number can do for you. And also having the best hacker you can have on your side.
I chose to stick with a studio apartment and a librarian position. I have enough money to buy a mansion if I wanted to. The amount of money I was getting paid for knocking people off stacked up very well. Nonetheless, I want to keep a low profile. The librarian’s job is only to keep up the image. I don’t indulge in reading, that’s for sure. I find no joy in books, and I would never understand someone who finds solace in sitting, and reading all day. That sounds painful and agonizing.
The ping on my cell rings and my heart skips.
Nobody
One on one. The blue sky is out.
My eyes gleam with a grin. And I head to where he is.
I end up in front of a shed surrounded by tarp over the roof and wood logs laid around the front. I crept up to the ‘out of order’ tin can. This is just horrible.
I peek over my shoulder, then, go inside. My brow quirks and mouth tilts down. Wow.
I’m shocked it looks so…?nice in here. Not trashy and dirty, like I suspected. The place is white with gloss like walls and gadgets neatly lined around a long white desk. The floor is made of wood, and it looks bigger inside than outside.
Oliver swivels around in his chair with a wide smile plastered on his face. His jet-black hair wildly lays over his forehead, with thin rimmed glasses and the blackest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Am I still saved as ‘Nobody’ in your phone?” His finger taps on his armrest, the ring on his finger staring directly at me.
I give a bored look and roll my eyes. I lower my hood, shaking my curls to set them free.
“You ask, but I’m sure you know what that answer is now, don’t we?” I give him a side eye, plopping in the chair at the end of the desk and gliding to him. He laughs showing his perfect molars, his laughs are so enlightening it makes me want to laugh. I don’t.
“What’s it going to take for you to actually change my name to my ‘best friend Oliver’?” His brow lifts.
“Best friend is a stretch. More like.” I sigh, laying back onto the seat. “Somebody who helps me track down evil people.”
I’ve known Oliver since I switched my ‘career’ option. We met on a job to take down hackers, which is ironic. And kind of just clicked. I was quiet and to myself; he was open and flirty.
Although we never indulged in anything sexual, he also never fails to throw in a hint or two.
Anyway, we stayed in touch while he went into hacking into elites and high-status people, unlocking the horror behind the rich and the ‘grass is not that greener on the other side’ world. Now, he’s paid millions to help blackmail government offices. It’s an unorthodox route, but someone has to snuff out the corrupt. He also creates my fake identification.
Oliver chuckles again, turning to his screen. “I’ll take that,” he cocks his head at me with a lazy grin, “for now.” Then he winks.
I purse my lips to contain my smile. I guess I egg it on because I don’t tell him to knock it off.
“Let’s get to the good stuff.” He presses the screen on his computer, then stretches it, zooming in for an enlarged view.
“Let’s welcome Joe. He and his crew do dirty things and dirty deeds for sometimes rich people. Some are just inexplicable.” He shakes his head with his lip curled. I look at the photo. Heat framing my face as I narrow in on a man with a square goatee and a leather jacket that looks like he wears it to bed and the shower.
“Inexplicable how?” My nails dig into the leather armrest, creating crescent moons.
He rubs his pointer and thumb together. “He’s believed to be involved in sex trafficking and smuggling.”
My mouth parts, a snarl making way. “Filth. I thought GenCre handles that?” The secret underground organization that only people who are in this world would know. I’ve never met this person in charge, but I would say if there is one group I won’t fuck with, it's them. I heard their ways are ruthless and barbaric, completely the opposite from how assassins or myself would handle a situation. Popov didn’t handle kidnapping, nor traffickers. We were told never to crosshairs and don’t, by any means, get in between them and their job. That never scared me, it only stoked my defiance as a young twenty-one-year-old. However, you listen to the orders given to you.
Now, I have no one to answer to, but myself. But I have no desire to run into them. I’d rather avoid that.
“Oh trust. They do,” he says matter-of-factly. “Anyhow, I guess Joe learned about the big guy Ronan and wanted a piece of it.”
My nostrils flare at the name I wish to crush and disintegrate. “So, where does this man like to hang out?” I lean toward the desk.
His finger glides over to the next holographic screen. My eyes shift with it.
“He’s a regular at the bar, Striptease Plays. Low-budget strippers and water down drinks. That’s the meaning of his life. The other crew sometimes meet with him there, too.”
My head shakes as my lips curl deeper. My hand aches from the temptation to bash this asshole’s head in. I finally smile because this?…?this is where it starts. Knocking them off one-by-one like a maze of dominoes.
And after I’m done with them all, I’ll toss each of their heads in front of Ronan before taking my gun and shooting him straight in his crooked head. Sending him to the place he should’ve already been.