Activity

Elior assessed the room. It was dark and foggy, smelling of smoke and perfume. Muffled bass from live band on the other side of the room created a warm but slightly uncanny ambiance.
Lots of men and several women filled the building. Several men in particular wore leather jackets. They were sprinkled throughout the crowd strategically, sitting and standing in places that could see all the doors. Who came in, who went out. They probably knew other gangs like Elior’s would be here tonight. Elior sized them up in his head but figured he wouldn’t be able to take them out by himself if trouble came—though he’d never admit it. He huffed quietly.
A blond girl stood working the bar counter. She slid a couple drinks to some men and then turned. Elior shuffled through the crowd to the bar. Get a drink—nearly everyone in the building had a drink of some kind. He needed to blend in.
“Hey beautiful.” Elior placed a hand on the counter.
The girl turned around and leaned up against the bar. She bit her lip. “Hey. Here for a drink?”
“I’m here for your number.” He winked, a flirty smile lighting his angular face.
The bartender snickered. “You use that line a lot?”
“No.” A lie. He breathed and then looked up at her. “I’m not usually this nervous either.”
Her face flushed hard. A smile on her red lips. Elior slid up onto the bar stool, pleased with himself. He tapped his fingers on the counter. “I’ll take a Sunset Negroni, baby.”
The girl nodded and turned around to make the drink.
Elior ran his hand through his half-blond hair. He scanned for the black door—the one Evander told him to find. It was on the other side of the room. More bar counter seating sat to the side of it, and a long couch on the other side, both with pink jackets guarding it.
The girl slid Elior the drink.
“Thank you.” He blew her a kiss and then sipped it. How would he get through that door? He pulled his phone out and messaged Arielle Celine.
‘Hey.’
No reply. He waited, eyes dancing between the screen and his surroundings. The phone vibrated.
‘What’s up, Ellie?’
‘Are you and Thatcher still outside? Pink jackets are blocking the black door. Could you come in and distract them?’
Elior waited impatiently for Arielle to respond. Three dots bounced… she was typing. The bartender leaned up towards Elior. “So what are you here for?”
“I’ve got a couple friends I haven’t seen in a long time. We agreed to meet here for a little… reunion.” The lie slipped out easily. Elior’s phone vibrated again, he resisted the urge to look at it, tilting his head again. “I honestly can’t wait to see them again.”
The girl’s face softened. “That’s nice.”
A man called her and asked for another drink. Elior used the moment to look at his phone.
‘I’m coming, give me a second.’
He exhaled. Arielle came in a second or so later, her body wrapped in an eye-catching red dress that matched her makeup. Elior watched the pink jackets glance her way. Usually he would’ve been concerned for a girl dressed like she was, but with as much as she’d beat him in self defense challenges, he wasn’t stressed much.
Like the actress she was, Arielle walked up to the pink jackets by the door. Elior watched closely, slowly approaching the door as well. Arielle pretended not to notice him, instead focusing on convincing the guys to escort her to the bathroom.
Arielle was pretty. Convincing wasn’t hard.
Elior slipped through the black door and hurried up the dark staircase just beyond—silently, his movements swift and catlike. At the top of the staircase was three doors, one straight ahead and two on either side. He pushed the left one open and stepped inside, shutting it quietly behind himself.
A man sitting at a desk shuffled to his feet, barking angrily. He reached for a gun in a desk drawer, but Elior was quicker. One shot from the gun at his waist punctured the man’s torso. The man dropped from his chair with a thud. Elior snorted—he never missed, did he? Only made him a better asset to the team. A cocky smile lit his face.
Elior walked to the desk, kicking the man out of the way.
He opened several drawers and searched them as thoroughly as he could while rushing. A stack of documents slid off the desk, falling loudly. He flipped through the items in the drawer, successfully finding the hard drive, keys and ledger. He fingered through some jewelry, shoving some expensive looking pieces in his pockets. Not necessary, but he wanted to and no one would stop him. As he shoved the jewelry into his pocket, his fingers brushed something else—paper. Folded and floating around with the bracelets and diamonds. He pulled it out and opened it.
‘Don’t leave it breathing.’
He furrowed his brows and tilted his head, scanning his memory for the time he might’ve written this. Elior couldn’t recall, and that almost bothered him more than the note itself. He looked around. The moment he peered behind him, the man he’d shot fired his gun. The shot missed Elior by a long-shot, but it hit a loose panel in the wall and struck a bell on the other side.
A signal.
Elior’s heart dropped. He glanced at the man and shot him a second time. “I thought you were dead…!?”
“Thought!” The man rasped, his head falling back against the ground as he finally died.
Elior didn’t have much time.
At least five pink jackets rushed into the room. Three guns raised at once and two fired. A bullet skinned his jacket shoulder. Everything happened quickly. Elior fired at the men, backing up towards a large window behind him while dodging the bullets to the best of his abilities. He pulled a smoke bomb and released it in the room. He jumped out the window, his ears ringing from the gunshots and a bullet snagging his arm as he fell.
He landed on a car outside, setting off its alarm. Blood stained his green, long-sleeve turtleneck. Elior groaned but kept moving. He rolled off the car and dragged himself to his feet. Thatcher pulled the car around and Arielle shoved a door open. Elior climbed in and sat down, his fingers numb.
“Got it all?” Arielle looked over the front passenger seat.
“Yeah. Now go, Thatcher! Hurry—drive!”
Pink jackets hurried out the building and fired at the car as Thatcher quickly pulled off. They were gone before the pink jackets could follow them. They drove far away from the club and stopped in front of a dilapidated house—one of Unc’s hideouts.
Elior exhaled as he climbed out of the car. His heart still beat quickly, his mind spinning with excitement. What a tight escape! He used to be shaken by missions like these but now he enjoyed them. He breathed a couple of times to slow the rush and tried to focus.
A thought about the note in his pocket popped into his mind. Where had it come from? The moment played over in his head. The first shot to the chest, the man fell, the note. ‘Don’t leave it breathing.’ He didn’t have time to check if the man was dead, he was in a rush. Elior’s hands felt clammy the longer he thought about it.
He shoved the thought down hard. Not now.
He’d figure it out later.
His arm stung. He wiped his face, smearing blood from an arm wound from across his face. A pink jacket must’ve snagged him in the jumble. He laughed to himself that he didn’t have more holes in him. “Their aim was so bad! Crusty pink ja—”
“Why are you covered in blood, then?” Arielle’s voice was shaky. She slipped out of her red dress, revealing a nude-colored catsuit beneath. She fell in step with Elior and grabbed his arm. “Snap, Elior, I’m going to need to care for this the moment we get home, alright?”
He winced. “It’s been worse, Ari. I’m fine.”
The group stepped into the dilapidated house. It was dark, the moonlight highlighting the dust that floated through the air. Zaey sat at a wooden kitchen table inside. His green eyes had that look—the robotic looking haze that covered them every time he’d killed someone. He cleaned blood from his knives, a habit he’d developed to cope. Sometimes Elior felt bad for him when he looked like that. Zaey looked up from their shining blade faces. “You’re here.”
Elior opened out his arms, “We are here, Zaey. Happy to see us?”
Zaey snorted. Arielle opened a kitchen cabinet and slid into a stashed tracksuit. She put her blonde hair up into a ponytail. “Elior has the goods… and we weren’t followed.”
“Good.” Zaey stood up, sliding his knives into his belt. “Rosalie has the car out back. Let’s go.”