Watching their held hands nonchalantly stride inside like they owned the place, greatly contrasting with her awkward entrance following them. Scarlett immediately took notice of the giant and red headed woman, her anticipatory looks sending mixed vibes. Her peer and her peers probably asking about the bipedal, blood-soaked, somber canine coming along and beelining toward the bathroom. Did her reaction come across cowardly, or was she simply stalling for time?
[hr]
Her memories poured out as Scarlett turned both knobs, loud as the creaking faucet. Cupping her hands and allowing the water to engulf her face, swishing some through the chunks of flesh stuck between her teeth and spitting it out before the thought made her wretch. The chill had struck her; mindful of her bestial nature that she’d grown accustomed to. Scarlett’s head hung low, she couldn’t stand the mirrors' judgmental glares. Her choices hadn’t pushed her down the path of no return. If she possessed a secondary option, she’d snatch it like a predator — perhaps that was a poor wording choice. But showering herself with platitudes didn’t make her feel any less dirty, as scrubbing away the blood did little to remove the stains. Hiding beneath her helmet once again, quietly stepping out. 

What could she expect? The collar didn’t need to around her neck to know she was being lead, but uncertainty didn’t help her intuition. The two sitting beside each other in the farthest corner, just receiving their multiple drinks as Scarlett approached the table, getting a polite smile from the man and a pleasing statement from her.

“I’ll be back baby.” The girlfriend said pecking his cheek then standing up, giving Scarlett the cold shoulder on her way past. Scarlet sat on the opposing side of the man, arms folded in her lap and staring at his outer calmness sipping a shot of strong liquor. Without the literal chessboard, a strategic game was already unfolding. His lackadaisical pinky pointing at the menu lying in the middle of the table while grabbing the frothy mug.  

“Have a couple drinks on me. Will make the situation more comfortable for all of us.” His offer obfuscated the point enough, last thing she needed was booze.

“I don’t care for being underestimated. You planned to drag me to a secluded spot away from our usual circles, so what do you want?” Scarlett asked, tone stiff as her posture. He cracked a genuine smile hidden behind slurping his suds.

“Please, I’ve always favored your fervor. Besides, I can relate to when one’s ambition becomes their obsession.” He was talking, but saying nothing as far as she was concerned. He wasn’t even maintaining eye-contact with Scarlett, as his eyes descended and pulled out a notepad from his pants' pocket and reached underneath the table. She grabbed it and glanced down, noticing the writing wasn’t in the English language, but something she could translate easily.

[quote]I have a preposition for you…[/quote]

She returned a glare, but he seemed to be focused on his foam beverage. Taking another drink as he simply changed the subject entirely, speaking in a casual way that felt oddly heartfelt from the degree of softness slathering his speech. 

“Drinking alcohol is like young love, once you find one thing you love you overindulgence in it, and eventually make an ass of yourself at best. At worst you’ll be disgusted by the sight of it, just from the memories alone...”

She flipped to another page and read the next several notes in succession, giving a despondent response. 

[quote]If you can keep quiet, keep reading...[/quote]

[quote]I’ve been tracking your boyfriend’s killers whereabouts for quite some time...[/quote]

[quote]I know where you can find one of them. I can help you directly get to them.[/quote]

“Your wife told you that right?” Pausing for a moment to exhale. “I’m not interested in talking about my love life.” She said, using her words as a double edge blade cutting off both conversations. He let out muffled cough covered up by a balled fist. 

“Fine, I only want you to hear me out.” He countered quickly, clearing his throat before continuing as Scarlett kept reading the notes. “I learned my wife was a psychotherapist on are first date. Heh, she couldn’t have chosen someone more broken to fix. My addictive behavior was fueled by alcohol and narcotics. But somehow her pearly-white presence was like a miracle substance that I couldn’t find the heart to abuse. I grew so sick of that struggle, that I had found resolve inside myself and actually became sober. She made me whole...” 

[quote]You’re asking why would I help you? Why jeopardize my position for even suggesting breaking the bosses rules? Simply put, your desire coincides with mine. We both seek retribution.[/quote]

[quote]You know what happened to my wife and how I’ve been looking for her killer. We happen to be searching for the same target. I need someone dependable. This is our best chance to succeed. If you refuse my offer, I’m afraid we’ll both let the bastard slip through our fingers…[/quote]

Her grip tightened on the notepad, clenching her leg. His sentences structured like fists penetrating her emotions, psychologically pummeling her into submission through her many similarities of thought. Closing her eyes for a moment to regain her composure.

“But now I’m left fragmented. We’re both ghosts haunted by our past. But let me offer some sage advice — I used to believe that sticking her advice was like an invisible keepsake. The mere act of following their footsteps would be a sign that they mattered. I’d stay sober forever, just to keep her happy…but she wasn’t happy, she died and horribly so. I can’t think of anything more narcissistic than appeasing the dead. So I stopped thinking about what made others happy, only what made me happy...” Hints of his repressed anger showed transparently as if steam started spewing from his mouth, setting aside the empty glass instead of slamming it.

Shoving the notepad in-between her leg and the seat, looking around and noticing the other patron sitting by himself, before finally cutting him off through clenched teeth. It was clear his sob story never pertained to him. She leaned forward in her chair. “What have you been doing?” 

He answers by rotating his finger in the air and leaning forward, putting his elbows on the table.

“Well just like you’ve been pursuing your goal. We’ve been ordered to find friends, lovers, associates, acquaintances etcetera. I doubt I need to explain why?” He spoke softer.

[i]“If you can’t find Lieutenant Davison and he’s not dead or captured, or hell even if he’s either. Those closest to him would be the next best thing to have.”[/i] She thought, slightly shaking her head while reading on…

[quote] I recently discovered his current location, thanks to an unskeptical sort in our ranks. Its seperated from the others and highly guarded, likely because you and I aren’t the only folks that want him dead. [/quote]

[quote] I also gathered evidence that the security systems in the building are undergoing scheduled maintenance giving you a window to get in and out without being detected. You always seemed to be the best at infiltration. [/quote]

[quote] Neither of us will even be suspected or questioned. Because he wasn’t allowed to tell this location to anyone. But he owed me money for supplying him with hallucinogens and more than a few favors. So his loose lips will be an effective scapegoat. [/quote]

“Everyone has been following their breadcrumb trail, hoping to catch a songbird. You understand the importance of finding the target supersedes meager promises? They’d let him fly free in a heartbeat, if he sang prettily enough...the most effective way of crushing a songbird’s dreams, is starting with their windpipes.” The serious threat of his words still spoken in a hushed and collected voice. The conditions were becoming clear, finally reminding herself of the folded note she recovered, speaking up.

“An inheritance claimed too soon will not be blessed at the end.”

He laughed bitterly as he came over and whispered in her ears. “I’m not taking moral lectures from someone who drowned the earth. You want a phrase? Good things come to those who wait, but only what's left from those who hustle!” 

[quote] The boss suspects that he knows about Davison. Not only will you not be allowed to touch him until it's far too late. He could potentially free everyone of his partners in crime, depending on the legitimacy of his information. [/quote]

[quote] I’ve done all the leg work. I’ve sacrificed everything in the moment I gave you this, even my desire to exact revenge with my own two hands. Just scratch my back and I’ll let you scratch out his eyes. [/quote] 

[quote] My only condition is giving him the torture he enforced on my wife. Rip out every one of his teeth and make him swallow his tongue. Record it and give me the tape. We’ll be square and that will surely satisfy us both. [/quote] 

He grabbed the notepad from Scarlett, but she didn’t stop him, remaining still and silent. He smiled at her and shoved it back into his pocket. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go check on my girlfriend and pay for our tab.” 

Leaving Scarlett to drink in the words, absorbing them all until she felt deep underwater, struggling to catch her breath and bringing about a sensation of panic. She watched the condensation drip down from the glasses, like sand pouring from an hourglass. Her heart was beginning to race. She was clearly running low on time. Her decision needed to be made fast!