Chapter 5 Five.

ABIGEAL

SOMEONE WAS knocking at my door.

It wasn't the irritating pounding of my landlord (who'd sent me a text just this morning reminding me to pay the four months advance by Friday or get out) or the hesitant knocking of Anna, who'd tried to reach me many times after I kicked her out but was ignored each time.

I swung the door and locked eyes with the boy on my doorstep. I raised an eyebrow. "Are you lost or something?" He didn't look a day over sixteen.

He smirked at me. "I thought I would be, but now I know I'm in the right place. They said you were the bitch in B-16."

Fucking neighbors. "What do you want?"

He pulled a note out of the pocket of his hoodie. "Nothing. Someone just asked me to give this to you and say it was urgent."

As soon as I took it from him, he raised a hand in a wave and sauntered off in a way he probably thought looked cool.

I shut the door and stared at the small square of paper. A phone number was scribbled on it with the words 'Call me' below it.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number.

"I didn't know you sent errand boys to do your bidding."

His laugh traveled through the phone. "I wanted to come myself, but I figured you won't be pleased at the invasion of privacy," Blaine Daniels said.

"Much appreciated. How can I help you?"

"Good morning to you too, Miss Starr. I slept fine, thanks for asking."

"Apologies. I'm not a fan of beating around the bush."

"So I've discovered," he cleared his throat.

"I'm calling because I have a proposition for you. There's an open spot in my company and I think you should apply, given your military background."

Just as I'd anticipated, he'd run a search on me. "Thank you, but I already have a job."

The manager of the store where I'd worked had left a very long voicemail for me, yelling at the end that I should never show my face again.

"I'm aware, but I hardly think that the store pays enough to cover all your expenses. You'd earn so much more."

"But-"

"Just come for the interview. You may end up not getting picked. I just want to satisfy my conscience that I've done something for you in return. I'm indebted to you, Miss Starr."

I paused so it would seem I was thinking it over. "Fine. When is it?"

The sigh of relief was audible through the phone. "This morning, actually," he gave me the rest of the details and hung up.

I dialed Morgan's number. "I just got a job interview at Sunset Corp. I told you my way was better," I said when he answered.

"Yes, it appears we underestimated you. Just don't fuck it up," he clipped. Charming.

I got ready quickly, putting on what I thought would be appropriate interview attire but keeping my weapons hidden in their sheaths.

They were lined with lead so they could pass through a metal detector scan and had cost me an arm and a leg. I smoothed down my clothes and left the house.

Not long after, I was striding through the massive double doors of Sunset Corp. it was like walking into a hive. There were people everywhere, walking with purposeful strides through doors, to stairways, into elevators.

After I was scanned, I was given an identification tag and escorted to an elevator that would lead me to exactly where I was supposed to be.

A few minutes of listening to crappy elevator music later, I found myself in a plush reception area with a handful of people wearing the same tag as me already seated.

I joined them, standing up again fifteen minutes later when my name was called and I was ushered into an inner office.

Blaine Daniels looked up as I walked through the door and smiled at me. I'd gotten more smiles in my direction from him than anyone else in the last six months or so.

"Miss Starr. Glad you could make it."

"Thank you for the opportunity."

He nodded, offered me a seat. "So let's start with the basics," his tone change to a professional one I hadn't heard before but oddly suited him.

"How old are you?"

"26."

"Previous occupation?"

"I've worked in a bunch of convenience stores and gas stations. Nothing too stable or serious."

"Hard to get a job after the military?"

My eyes shifted to his. "Something like that."

"Okay. What rank did you hold in the military?"

The screams started to echo at the back of my mind. I forced myself to focus.

"Second lieutenant. I was on my way to getting promoted to First when I...left."

My target's eyes never left mine. "And why did you leave?"

Louder screams. The thunderous explosion ringing in my ears. Heat blasting my face.

"You already did your search on me. Wasn't it stated there?"

"I just want to hear from you," he answered.

****

"Zeke, get out of there!"

"I can't!"

****

I swallowed, trying to remain calm. I was here for a reason. I'd come too far to let anything ruin this. "I was injured on a mission and opted to leave."

"Did you earn a Purple Heart?" He asked. My mind flashed to the medal and the plaque buried at the bottom of my drawer, to the colonel's smug face as he handed it to me.

****

"Surely you knew there's no way you would win," he'd whispered. "One more misstep and I will end you."

****

"Yes, I did."

My target smiled at me. "It must have been hard won. Congratulations."

I hated receiving congrats for a medal I didn't want. A medal I shouldn't have in the first place. It was a constant reminder of what I'd lost.

He asked more questions about my range of combat, my function in the military, my skill level at strategy and defensive tactics, then started to round up.

"I think that's all," he stood up and I stood with him. He stretched out a hand and I took it, tensing when the warmth traveled from the point of contact all the way to my toes.

He withdrew his hand and the warmth disappeared. I was eager to get out of here. My ears were ringing and there was a tightness in my chest.

But he had more to say. "Can I ask a question?"

His previous questions had pushed me closer to the edge than I've been in a long time, but I sighed. "Shoot."

"What happened to Ezekiel?"

My eyes shot up to his. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.

"How the fuck do you know that name? It was supposed to be classified."

His eyebrow went up at the hostility in my voice. "It is Classified. But I was curious so I pulled a few strings. There was an Ezekiel Starr in your platoon, but I couldn't find any more data on him. So I figured I'd ask."

"So you think being rich and powerful gives you the right to dig up people's live? You're as bad as the rest of them. Don't ever contact me again."

I turned to leave, the rage brimming up inside me, threatening to spill.

"Abby, wait." Blaine said, touching my arm.

Abby.

My vision turned red. I fell off the edge.

Faster than I could remember moving, I snatched my dagger out of its sheath and aimed it at his throat.

Fuck planning. Fuck being careful. I might as well end it now.