𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

28. The Return

"Depends who's asking... you, or Silco?"

She straightened up, smile fading, then she threw her hands out wide and spun once, laughing again. "Oh, don't worry about him. Daddy's busy. This is just you and me, guppy."

The silence between us stretched, brittle and taut, until I couldn't take it anymore.
"Just stop," I sighed, pushing myself to my feet. "If you're here to cross my name off Silco's list, then quit dancing around it and do it already."
Jinx blinked, and then that smile crept back lazily, like a fuse catching fire.
"Oh come on, Sharky. Where's the fun in that?"
I rolled my shoulders, grounding myself, eyes fixed on her every twitch.
"At least be fair for once in your life. No bombs. No guns. Just you and me."

Her laugh split the air, mocking.
"Fair?" She tilted her head, pale eyes glinting like shards as she drew her pistol and spun it once on her finger. "Since when has fair ever mattered in this city?"
She relaxed her hand on the weapon but didn't holster it, tapping the barrel lightly against her temple as if mulling over something amusing. "You know," she said, almost sing-song, "Silco really liked you. Said you had a knack for getting things done. Even if..." Her gaze slid back to mine, knife-sharp, "...you did stab him in the back."
I clenched my teeth, heat rising to my chest.
"That's not what happened."

"Sure it isn't." Jinx's tone was light, but her eyes dead serious. She stepped closer, close enough for me to smell the faint trace of oil and gun powder clinging to her clothes. "But hey, here's a fun little twist for ya— he's willing to give you another chance."
I stared at her, my heartbeat loud in my ears.
"What?"
"Yeah." She grinned wider, too wide. "You. Back with us. No questions asked. Just like old times."

"After everything?" I huffed nervously, my voice cracking more than I'd meant it to.
She shrugged, carelessly. "He says everyone deserves a second chance. Even a fish who swam off thinking she could be a shark."
The words hit harder this time, my hands curling into fists. "And what if I don't want it?"

Jinx tilted her blue-haired head again, the eerie, childlike curiosity shining on her expression. "Then I guess..." She raised her pistol just an inch, just enough for the weight of it to settle between us, pointed my way. "...we figure out what to do with you instead."

~

The Last Drop hadn't changed.
Same rust-stained walls, same neon signs bleeding light into the gloom, same stench of alcohol and sweat clinging to the air like a second skin. And yet, the moment I stepped through its door, everything felt different.

Eyes turned. Conversations faltered mid-sentence. Even the clatter of glasses behind the counter stumbled as Chuck, the barkeep, did a double take— his brows jumping high before settling into a scowl that looked a lot like you've got some nerve showing your face here.

Whispers chased me as I moved deeper inside, Jinx skipping ahead like this was just another night out. I kept my chin up, though the weight of a hundred stares pressed heavy on my shoulders. Of course they all knew. Everyone knew.
Word travelled faster than shimmer down here, and nothing ever stayed buried for long.
"C'mon, slowpoke," Jinx called over her shoulder, the grin on her face far too bright for the tension thrumming in the place. "The big man's waiting~."

We climbed the stairs. I felt every step like it was dragging me back in time— back into the belly of the beast I'd clawed my way out of once already.
At the top, the heavy metal door loomed before us, its paint chipped and scarred from years of fists and fury. I hesitated. For a second, the thought of bolting flickered through me.
"Delivery!" Jinx sang, knocking twice before shoving the door open and giving me a none-too-gentle push inside.