The Emptiness She Holds

Catching up

Chapter 2: Catching Up

"Honey, please wake up! We need to start packing!" Mom's sing-song voice broke through my haze as she opened my door.

I was standing by the window, smoking a blunt.

"Blaire Athena Knight!" she yelled, using my full name. That made me stop in my tracks.

I turned slowly to meet her gaze, darkness burning in my eyes before I blinked it away and snapped back to reality.

I caught a flicker of fear in those green eyes—and maybe some guilt creeping through.

"Sorry, Mama. It's a hard habit to break," I muttered, flicking the blunt to the floor and stepping on it, crushing the smoke out.

She sighed. "It's okay. But you should start packing. We're moving into Vincent's house... and you'll have new step-siblings."

My face went cold. I nodded without a word and turned to my closet.

I'd just come back yesterday, and now I was moving in with a new "family."
Lovely.

Let's get this over with.

I yanked my clothes off the shelves and hangers, tossed shoes into my suitcase and backpack, and zipped them shut with a heavy sigh.

I went downstairs and dropped my bags by the door where Mom was loading hers into a bag.

"You're not selling the house, are you?" I asked, voice tight with an edge of fear.

She shook her head quickly. "God, no! Not for a million bucks. Even though it's a little wacky and rundown, this place holds our best memories."

Her smile was soft but genuine.

I nodded and slipped on my slippers.

"I'm gonna go to the library. Got some studying to catch up on," I told her.

"Okay, be back before dark," she called after me.

I nodded and headed out, but instead of going straight to the library, I turned a corner—and there it was.
A black Mustang waiting for me.

I approached slowly, slid open the door, and climbed in.

The sharp scent of cologne hit me. I covered my nose.

"Come on, Ryan. What the hell?" I said, pissed.

"Three years, and this is what I get?" a rough voice asked from the driver's seat.

"Alright, how's your shitty life?" I shot back nonchalantly.

He chuckled. "Not as shitty as yours," he said, shrugging and firing up the engine.

Ryan was my rock—my ride or die.
He was the son of my father's assistant.

My father wasn't just a drunk.

He was the leader of the Black Mamba gang.

Then he got killed.
I was supposed to be his heir.

But life didn't care, and I got sent to juvie.

While inside, Ryan fed me info from the outside.

And I ran the gang from behind bars.
Multiplied it a hundred times, making it one of New York's top two gangs—maybe even the country's.

"What did you tell Mama Bear?" he asked, eyes on the rearview mirror.

"Library. Said I had some studying to do," I shrugged.

"Bullshit. You're fluent in eight languages already—Chinese, French, Italian, English, Russian, Arabic, Korean, Spanish!"

"God, you're legit in all the subjects. It's like second grade level to you now," he ranted.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep feeding my ego," I rolled my eyes.

He scoffed and turned a corner.

"Oh please, I'm sure after all these years locked up, you've lost some skills," he smirked.

A sly grin stretched across my face. "You're on."

•••

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! You were right! Just let go!" Ryan screamed as I held him in a headlock, which had lasted what felt like ten minutes.

I rolled my eyes and kicked him, making him act even more dramatic.

"Okay, Vesper... I see you," he gritted out.

I laughed, tilting my head back.

"Nobody's called me that in years," I said, remembering the fear that name used to command.

An assassin feared—even though no one knew I was just a twelve-year-old girl behind the curtain.

"So, what did the crime world say when I disappeared?" I asked, sarcasm dripping.

"Some say you died. Some say you got scared. Some say you took a break and will only reemerge when the time's perfect," he shrugged, chugging his water.

I hummed in response.

We pulled up at Ryan's "evil lair," as he liked to call it.

This place had seen my blood and sweat for years.

I glanced at the clock, knowing I'd have to wake early tomorrow for dress shopping with Mom—her wedding was at six, right at sunset.
Romantic, huh?

I rolled my eyes.

I grabbed a bag of old weapons Ryan had kept safe for me.

Fifteen minutes later, I was home.

"I'll see you soon, Ry," I said, giving him a soft but sad smile, pulling him into a hug.

He squeezed me tight. "Stay safe, Ves."

I nodded and headed inside, rushing to stash my duffle bag into another suitcase.

I kissed Mom goodnight and went to bed, silently hoping her wedding cake falls on the groom's face.

Only in my dreams