Vicious Romance

Chapter 22

2 weeks later...

I'm not going to lie, these last two weeks have been amazing. I got a partial pardon from Noah's case- meaning that I don't have to interact with him. I can simply just observe him from the comfort of my apartment, and my binoculars. And security footage.

I had a hard time convincing Doug to let me have this pardon, but the minute I told him that I was developing feelings for Noah- things started working out for me— after all, developing feelings were wrong.

As if I wanted them in the first place.

Ever since I abandoned him in his apartment, I've been avoiding him like the plague, barely going outside, making my own coffee, staying away from dates. And people.

I've been ignoring his texts, his calls, and I've gotten the chance to congratulate myself for not giving in to his curse. Yet.

Go me.

But at the same time, it's not like I gave myself the time to get distracted by him.

I've been researching The Black Marker 24/7.

I was able to use the FBI server to figure out that they were an underground gang, and they did it all: drugs, kidnapping, murder, gambling— and the list goes on.

They were just like another gang of angry guys, and they just happened to fool around with the wrong girl's best friend. And they were going to pay for that.

I was going to destroy their system from the inside out, slowly, deteriorating relationships, or anything that I could get my hands on.

I wanted to watch them crash, and burn. Just like they burnt my best friend to crisp.

Asshats.

I didn't tell Doug this part of my plan, but something inside of me told me that he would be okay with it. It was about avenging his fiancée's death. He had to be okay with it.

I was able to figure out everything from all the members, to all of their hangouts throughout the country. It was easy.

The only thing that I couldn't figure out was their hierarchy- and who led this group of savages.

Which was why I was in this stupid, dark alley in the first place.

My eyes search the alley, looking for some indication for Serpent's, the bar that was supposedly full of Black Markers.

My eyes land in the back, near the series of trash cans where loud music emits. I walk slowly, yet calmly, tapping the sole of my leather boots against the uneven surface of the road, as my laces sway against the wind.

I walk up to the trash cans, and from the creak of an open door, I spot over a hundred people, dancing, and drinking in what seems to be a run-down bar.

Pushing the door open, I walk in slowly, taking in the sights of large men, in their leather jackets, drinking, and flirting with women.

My eyes wander off to the bar itself. I'm able to spot a name that reads, Serpent's in lime green, and I prepare myself for trouble.

I guide myself to a barstool, and sit on the cool leather, and shout the nearest bartender for a beer.

To blend in, not to get drunk, of course.

As he hands me my beer, a middle-aged man plops on the stool next, to me, and from the corner of my eye, I can see him staring at me, from head to toe.

I'm wearing short denim shorts, some graphic t-shirt I picked from the back of my closet, and Noah's leather jacket, that touched the top of my thighs. I needed everything I could get to blend in with the environment- and Noah's jacket helped with that.