Fight or Flight

Chapter Three

POV Reese

"Reese."

"Yes boss"

"Find out who she is, where she comes from and what she does outside of The Den. I want all the information you can gather."

Huh? "S-sure, I'll have the nerd take a look, but Ash I don't think she's the type to want to hang around." I stutter out, taken by surprise by the request. Instantly, I regret the words that leave my mouth.

He takes his gun out of the side of his jacket and aims it straight at my forehead. His eyes gleams with the madness he doesn't bother to hide.

"I'm expecting your results by tomorrow afternoon."

"Yeah man no problem."

Pulling out my phone I send a text to Dev and chug the whiskey in my hand. Nothing good is going to come from this, I can feel it. What a shame, she really was cute. That attitude though, that's not going to go unnoticed by the boss.

It also wont be appreciated.

——————

POV Nova

I get in my car and speed out of the parking lot like there's a shoe sale, just incase I picked up a tail. After turning down a few different streets, my nerves ease enough to light a cigarette and turn on some music while I head home to try. It's going to be some serious hell trying to wrap my head around the night I've just had.

It hits hard seeing Mark, and even harder knowing that he joined forces with the only thing I've always warned him against. I still can't help but feel the fury as it truly sets in and my hands begin to ache from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

My heart begins pounding in my chest when I realize my past is creeping up on me. My only hope right now is that he doesn't try to look for me after tonight.

I take some deep breaths to steady myself and make a last minute detour before heading home. Within minutes I'm pulling into the familiar parking lot of my favorite place to shop, the 24 hour liquor store.

——————

The next morning I get up bleary eyed and tired after passing out on the living room carpet, my usual nightmares especially vivid and a massive kink in my neck. I stretch out my limbs wincing when I feel the damage done to my ribs. Not broken but definitely bruised.

Skipping breakfast, I begin making myself an iced coffee, lighting up in the process. I hope the caffeine will feed my dark soul this morning cause I'm already in a foul mood, pair that with a hangover and you have my everyday life basically.

Groaning and with a slight limp I make my way to the bathroom and jump into the shower, cursing out loud at the cold water this run down apartment building supplies.

I get dressed in a baggy black tee shirt and matching sweatpants when my phone rings, I look at the screen and see it reading as a private number.

Who even answers private calls? Not me, the only people who should have my number are in my contact list. Decline.

I throw on some old school rap beats and begin cleaning my depression room, cause this shit is getting nasty.