Beautiful But Deadly

Chapter Thirteen

XIII
• • •

It must have been the heaviest I'd ever felt waking up in the morning. When I cracked my eyes open it felt like I had been hit by a bus the night before. Well, I guess in a way I had- the party definitely hadn't gone as planned and I didn't get any information I had wanted to.

I rolled over in my bed and checked the time, letting out a grunt when I saw how early it was. Knowing I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

Mason was still in his bedroom as I slugged into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. In the mood for killing some assholes, I had already put together the plan for the day by the time Mason got up.

I made a mistake last night; even acknowledging the fact that I loved Mason was too much. I couldn't let anything like that interfere with our missions. I couldn't.

"Good morning," he yawned out, pouring some coffee into a mug.

"What's so good about it?" I responded in typical Ava fashion. He chuckled to himself at my joyous nature and took a sip of his coffee.

"What's all that?" He asked, sitting down across from me at the table. I had written out all our plans and laid everything out.

"This is what we're doing today. We're gonna have some fun," I told him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Is the perfect Miss Ava Faye taking a day off of working her mission?" He asked, astonished but also casually excited.

"Nope. We are killing a shit ton of people, though," I replied, gathering everything together in a neat pile.

"That makes more sense," he chuckled and shook his head, leaning back in his seat. "So what's the plan?"

"Well, this morning I was bored as hell and went into intense depth looking for other places the truck could have been seen, and I didn't find that... but I did manage to hack into a security camera that had audio in a hardware store up the street, and I overheard some of the guys planning a meet-up with a bunch of other guys to exchange 'goods'. We're going to go there and exchange a few goods of our own," I told him, and he nodded.

"Nice job, Faye," he complimented me. "So when are we leaving?"

"Like an hour," I responded before standing up. "I'm gonna shower and shit, see you in a bit."

Incase you hadn't noticed, Mason and I took an ass-ton of showers. Our addiction to showering went deeper than just physical hygiene, though. Even though the all people we would kill were assholes and deserved what we would do to them, each kill still stuck with you in one way or another.

It's like every person you would kill leaved an invisible tattoo on your skin, and every once in a while it feels to familiar to think about the way you took their life. It almost felt like with each shower we were trying to scrub ourselves clean from all the people we've slaughtered, and sins we've oh-so-willingly committed.

I tried not to think about last night too much. I mean, what did it matter, anyway? Once we'd finish this mission I'll never see Blake again, so that was irrelevant, and whatever happened with Mason- I don't even know- but it couldn't matter.

Once I was out of the shower, I slipped on my tight, yet practical, black outfit. I spent some time strapping myself up with all of my various weapons and holsters. Once I was satisfied, I put on my combat boots and slipped a few knives into the inside.

I stared at myself in the mirror as I put my hair into a ponytail, and let out a deep breath. I would never have even known how to begin recognizing the girl I saw staring back at me.