Beretta (MC#1)

Chapter 2- Her

Red sure is my color.

My lipstick, I mean. Not the blood all over my face.

But yeah, red is my color.

Straightening my blonde wig, I step over the mangled body at my feet. A complete disregard for humanity, one would say. A complete disregard for a rapist, I'd say.

And rapists can never be considered human.

So, with one more parting kick, I walk out the shitty apartment and to my Chevrolet Silverado truck. Sirens wail in the distance announcing the approach of Police. But I merely shrug off my wig and shake out my red curls, which resemble a bird's nest more than actual hair. The Police arrives and completely overlooks my presence, heading upstairs.

Must be the neighbors who called.

No doubt they heard all that tortured screaming.

Amount received.

I smile at the bank notice on my phone and put on some mascara. Tonight, it's party night. Tonight, I'm me and I'm not hiding any of who I am with disguises.

I blow-dried my hair to its original red glory; my eyes have that emerald shine to it, and they pop up against my natural olive skin. Somehow none of my disguises make me feel as attractive as my own skin. And rightfully so.

"Rose, nothing can improve your appearance. This is what you're stuck with"

Julia Ford has always had a way with her words but she's exceptionally talented at being a bitch. And as she leans against the door to my wardrobe, I can't help but grin at her through the mirror. I'm exceptionally talented at annoying the fuck out of her.

"I'm sorry I'm not born with magical abilities to be able to look presentable without effort", and just to spite her I put my heels on super slow. And from the blue eyes locked on me in a glare. She knows it.

Ah, BFFs for life

"So, where are we going?", she doesn't even look up from her phone.

"Jule?", no answer again so I jerk the car to an angry halt and, hooray, I have her full wrathful attention. The car behind barely manages to stop in time and honks furiously. Oh well.

"Where are we going?", I ask and drive the car at a steady pace.

"Soooo, change of plans. I was gonna take you to a popular club since you're new in town but there's this super-secret place which rarely has an open party and we're going", she says pulling up the location on her phone and turning on directions.

"Tonight, is gonna be lit", I sure hope so.

"I can literally feel it in my bones", she further remarks and I can't help but be a little scared.

"Last time you said that we had the Irish mafia on our tails"

"Whatever"

"Okay, so when were you gonna mention the fact that the 'super-secret' place was inside a biker compound, owned by a 1 percenter club who could make us disappear from the face of the earth", I yell over the loud music, pushing after my best-friend.

For her the crowd parts with a single smile from her perfect lips. My resting bitch face is apparently not that appealing...shocker.

"And where the fuck are you leading me? We left the bar behind"

"Just shut up and follow", she yells back.

I grab ahold of her elbow "Making an assassin angry is not a good idea, Jules. I thought you were smart", I whisper yell in her ear.

"Annoying your only guide is also not a good idea", she snatches her arm out of my grip. "I just want you to meet someone", and from the excited expression its someone important so I just follow her until we reach a secluded area with a much acceptable volume of music.

"She'll be here in a minute"

"She better. I really want a beer"

"Julia?", we both turn around at the voice to find a copy-pasted version of Julia.

"Harlow!", Julia screeches and the hyenas would be proud. I just stand there like a complete fool. Noticing the same chocolate hair, the same blue eyes and oh my fucking god- the same button nose I so envy.

"Jules is this- is this your sister?", I ask dumbly.

"Rose y'know I don't have a sister. This is my cousin, Harlow. She's the old lady of a club member. So, we're completely safe here. No one is making us disappear from the face of the Earth"

"Oh"

"Hi, I'm Harlow. Heard a lot about you. Julia here is a chatter box", I take her extended hand as is polite and paste a completely fake smile on my face.

"Rose. All good things I hope"

"Well not real-"

"Let's go get that beer you wanted!!", Julia's infamous shriek earns us a dirty look from the couple making out a couple feet away and Harlow sends them an apologetic look as we're both dragged away.

A shit ton of shots and beers later it's safe to say Julia has lost her sanity and Harlow is not very far behind. And what's worse than babysitting two fully-grown women is stopping myself from murdering the jerk who spoiled my YSL dress. The man who I assassinated to get the money must feel like a complete loser now in his grave.

With a defeated sigh I push off the bar. No point asking for more booze because even the bartender is passed out in his own vomit. Ugh.

I eye the man grinding himself up on my best-friend. But she looks to be enjoying herself and so does Harlow with the man I suppose is her 'old man'. Double Ugh. Harlow and I've actually become fast friends and so I feel a tinge over-protective. Can't really help myself when she's so welcoming and trusting.

I jump over the bar and serve myself some whiskey. Taking a sip, I turn around to stand shocked by the biker standing on the bar top.

President. His leather cut says, and I leap back over the bar to stand at a different angle to get a look at his face. Curiosity, I tell myself but I know it's not just that.

A wave of familiarity rushes over me and suddenly I don't feel so good anymore, so I abandon my whiskey and finally he turns toward my part of the club continuing with his birthday speech for another member of the club.

Fawn, cropped hair frame an eerily familiar face. And I'm transported back to long summer nights of my 18th year in this world.

Back when the world used to be a better place. When I had the one person who meant everything to me. A special edition Harley Davidson bike and the thunder it caused when I rode on it following behind a man with a leather cut. Reaper's Disciples, it said on the back.

Harlow comes to stand beside me, and I give her a genuine smile this time. Coming back to the present I notice the speech is coming to an end. But I can't look at him. I just can't acknowledge the truth. So, I look around.

Assassin mode on, I survey my surroundings and my eyes widen at the red beam aiming straight at the President's heart. A sniper, it takes me a second to realize.

It finally clicks in my drunk brain and I am sprinting, jumping over the bar. Pain pierces my being as I push the giant six-foot President to the ground. And he registers the warm blood gushing out of my back at the same time I do.

I hear the shouts and curses and the screams, but I can't move.

Julia. Oh, my fucking god. Where is she?

Darkness clouds my vision. I try and fail to hold on. Someone rolls me over on my back. And ocean-blue eyes meet my pain ridden ones.

And then I'm falling, falling, falling into the dark pit of unconsciousness.