Broken Silence

Chapter Two

The city breathes like a dying thing, its lungs filled with smoke, its veins leaking toxic waste. I head deeper into the streets, away from the body I left behind. It's not that I don't care—it's just that I've never been one for sentimentality. Besides, in a place like this, things die every day. If I stopped for every corpse, I'd never make it out of this city alive.

The fog hangs thick, swirling around my ankles as I cut through the narrow alleyways that are all too familiar. My boots slap against the wet pavement, the only sound in the silence except for the distant hum of some malfunctioning billboard. The air smells like burnt plastic and something worse—a rot I've learned to ignore over the years.

I don't know how long I've been walking, but it's long enough that my muscles start to ache, and I'm not even sure where I'm headed anymore. I'm just moving—like a puppet on strings, dragged forward by the weight of the city.

My fingers tighten around the trident's handle. The silver gleams faintly in the low light, almost like it's trying to remind me of what I'm supposed to be. A weapon. A protector. A force to be reckoned with.

If only the rest of the city saw me that way.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind me. Heavy, purposeful. I don't need to turn around to know that someone's following me. There's only one type of person who ever follows me in this city: someone who wants something from me.

I stop. My breath catches in my throat for a moment, and I let the silence hang in the air like a trap.

The footsteps stop too.

I turn slowly, ready to face whoever's decided to follow me tonight.

And there he is.

Rook Halloway.

Of course. I should've known. The city's most infamous fixer and half of the reason this place is as messed up as it is. He's tall—too tall, with shoulders that look like they could crush a person with a single blow, and dark hair that falls into his eyes like he's trying to be brooding. His coat billows around him, and he holds himself like someone who's used to being feared, like he's got the whole city in his pocket.

The last time I saw Rook, we were kids—seventeen, maybe? He was a street rat back then, one of the countless kids trying to survive the streets. Now he's a man with a suit that looks too expensive for a place like this. There's no way he's still living on scraps.

And yet, here he is.

"Chase," he says, his voice low, almost friendly, though I know better. "Still trying to save the world, huh?"

I don't answer. Not because I don't want to, but because I'm not sure what I'd say. The truth is, I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know how to fix this city, or if it's even possible.

But I can't stop trying.

Rook steps closer, his eyes scanning the area behind me as though he's expecting trouble. "You don't look so good, Moonshine. You been getting into fights again?" His lips curve into a smirk. "Guess you've always been a sucker for trouble."

"Don't call me that," I mutter, the bitterness sharp on my tongue. I hate that name. Moonshine. It's not mine. It's just something the city decided to slap on me when I got too dangerous for the people in charge.

"Well, you are still the same girl who once tried to throw me into the river for cheating at dice," he says, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. "But you've grown up since then, haven't you? You're not the same kid who ran from everything back when we were on the streets."

I tighten my grip on my trident, feeling the familiar weight of it in my hands, grounding me. "You're not here to reminisce, Rook."

He chuckles, but it's not the kind of laugh that makes you feel better. "You're right. I'm not. I have a proposition for you, Chase. And trust me, it's not something you're going to want to turn down."

I raise an eyebrow, skeptical. "What kind of proposition?"

His gaze hardens. He knows he's got my attention now.

"Something big. The kind of thing that could shake up this entire city." He steps closer, his voice lowering, almost a whisper. "I know you're trying to take down the Blackwater Syndicate."

I feel my pulse quicken. He's got a way of knowing things. Things he shouldn't know.

"The Syndicate?" I scoff, though it's not a laugh. It's more like a snarl. "You know as well as I do, they run this city. They own the cops, the politicians, the whole damn economy. How am I supposed to take them down when everyone who could help is already on their payroll?"

Rook smirks again, and I feel that familiar cold shiver run down my spine. He's always been too comfortable with the darkness. Too comfortable in the gutter.

"I can get you inside, Chase. I've got the connections, the leverage. And all I need from you is a little... help."

His words hang in the air like smoke. I hate that he's always got an angle. Always making deals in the dark.

But I know something else, too.

"I don't trust you, Rook," I say, keeping my voice level. "You've never had anyone's back but your own. What makes you think I'd want to work with you now?"

He shrugs, unconcerned. "Because you need me, Moonshine. You can't do it alone, and you know it."

That's the truth. The Blackwater Syndicate is too big, too powerful, and it's got the whole damn city in a chokehold. I don't know how many times I've tried to take them down, only to end up with blood on my hands and no closer to ending their reign of terror.

But I can't trust Rook.

"Why are you helping me?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. "What's in it for you?"

He grins. It's a shark's smile, full of teeth. "What do you think? Power. Influence. I don't give a damn about saving the city. But a little chaos? A little change in the balance of power? That's good for business."

I can feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. He's dangerous, and he knows it. Rook's never been someone you can trust. But, in this city, we don't get the luxury of making moral choices. We take the deals we can get and pray we don't end up dead because of it.

I exhale through my nose. I'm already in too deep, anyway.

"Fine," I say, my voice low and steady. "But if you're playing me, Rook, I swear—"

"You'll kill me?" He raises an eyebrow, but there's no humor in it. "You'll have to get in line."

I take a moment, weighing my options. There's always a catch when it comes to Rook. There's always a price. But I need something. I need to do something that matters for once. And if working with Rook gets me closer to bringing the Syndicate down...

Then maybe, just maybe, I'll live long enough to see it.

"Where do we start?" I ask.

Rook's grin widens.

"Now you're talking."