Case 92 [18+] ✅

1

Here are some guidelines for this story before you actually start reading, this book will have a lot of abusive language used, there will be rated scenes for which I will have a warning before it starts for those who are not comfortable reading those scenes and I will let you know when it ends. Read at your own risks if you are under the age of 16. The parts which you can skip will not have anything major in it so you will not miss anything.

I DO NOT TAKE INSULTS. I can take constructive criticism but if you are going to insult me and my writing please get lost :)

Now let's move on to the story!

EDIT: I just wanted to say that if you're reading this book please vote! I'm trying to reach 1k votes haha.

Leah Beau

My fingers tap against the counter as I wait for the water to boil.

1, 2, 3, 4
1, 2, 3, 4
1, 2, 3, 4

I count with the rhythm of my fingers. It feels like forever until I finally hear the boiling of the water. I turn around picking up the pan to pour the water into my instant noodles cup and then seal it. It was quite late and I really didn't feel like preparing myself a full fledge dinner at this hour. The next best alternative to that was instant noodles. I rub my eyes to keep myself from falling asleep right in the kitchen although that seemed slightly impossible due to the growling of my empty stomach. After 5 minutes I pick up the fork and start devouring my noodles.

While eating the noodles, my eyes wander to the photoframe that sat on top of my fridge. It's a photo of my parents and I in New York Times Square from when I was 7. We are all smiling at the camera. It brings back an old memory of mine. We had a stranger take our picture because we did not have anyone else along with us. My parents happiness is vivid in my memories yet their smiles still seem foreign to me in every picture. I wish it didn't seem that way. I want to remember my parents as happy people with genuine smiles. I snap out of those thoughts and continue to eat my noodles until all there is left is soup.

I throw the cup away and head for my bedroom on silent feet after checking all the doors and windows to see if they are locked or not. A force of habit. When I get comfortable in my bed I hear my phone vibrate for a second. A sigh escapes my mouth as I reach for my phone and open up my messages to see a message from NUPA. National Underground Protection Agency.

Send in your code.

That is all it says and I internally groan knowing what this text means for me. But at this hour? NUPA is definitely high. I type in my code.

37429

Soon after I get a reply.

Identity confirmed. Leah Bernard Beau. Enter Ludlow's Liquor and at exact 1:05 am and request for 3 shots of tequila. This message will be deleted 30 seconds after you have seen it.

I sigh. Ludlow's Liquor. A popular bar in Chicago with its employees messengers of NUPA.

I begrudgingly step out of my bed and get dressed making sure I have a handgun safely between my pants and my back and then step out of my apartment building.

The crisp wind slaps me in the face the moment I step foot outside and I already feel myself pulling my jacket closer to myself hoping it would stop me from shivering. It takes me about 15 minutes while walking to reach the bar and take a seat in one corner and check my phone for the time. I feel the eyes of the bartenders and the waitresses on me. Cautious eyes as if they suspect me to be an agent. Which well I am.

13 minutes until I order myself 3 tequila shots.

I sit there patiently waiting for the time to pass by. I see two men walk into the bar and look around. They did not seem like the good type. They looked like the kind of guys who would make a scene if you gave them the wrong nacho sauce. I ignore them and keep to myself unconsciously sinking farther into the corner hoping they do not pick a fight with me. I am in no mood of wasting my precious time just for a couple of puny dudes.