Vengeance

||01|| Praised*

[Warning- Explicit mature content]

Oakley Marrero

My fingers shot to the cold metal of the bullet that hung around my neck as I brought the glass filled with hard scotch up to my lips.

Leaning my head back, the liquid poured in my mouth, stinging the back of my throat as it traveled down. The soothing sensation that I desperately needed, coming soon after.

I brought the glass down to the bar counter and sighed, lifting my fingers with the bullet between them and examined it for what felt like the billionth time. I always seemed to find myself studying it when I'm alone with too much time to wander in my own head.

On the bullet, I re-read the engraved words over and over again:

Salvo Inn

NYC

It was at the bottom of the bullet that the woman had given to me ten years ago, the day my parents were murdered by her and her people.

She uttered two words before stuffing this bullet in my pocket and running off, leaving me to die if a woman hadn't discovered the wreck, "Find me."

I rubbed my finger across the words that I've spent hours at a time for years trying to decipher; it had seemed easy at first, the location was there in three letters, NYC. And here I finally was, in New York City. But Salvo inn is what stumped me.

Before, I had thought it was a name, but I was met with a dead end with every lead I got for a year straight. Then I questioned if it was the name of a bar. I went to every bar, every cafe, every Inn, and yet none of them were associated with the name "Val" –the name the man had called her that day–or Salvo the name on the bullet.

It frustrates me more than anything, but I can't give up, not until I know for sure the fuckers who took my parents away from me were rotting six feet under the ground with them.

"What type of woman carries around a necklace with a bullet on it?" The low voice startled me, causing me to turn to the side to face its direction.

It was a man, his sharp jaw and bare chest visible from the black dress shirt that was unbuttoned a button too low, catching my eye.

I rolled my eyes at his question, it was one I got for years, even had cops questioning it until I said it was fake to make them leave me alone.

I dropped the bullet from my fingers and let it hang from the string, "A type that minds her own business." I snapped, "You should take down some notes from her." I put my drink to my lips again and gouged down another shot.

He laughs, "She can hold her liquor, carries a bullet around her neck, and she's witty?" He said with an exaggerated gasp.

"What else can the stunning mysterious woman do?" He asked, leaning his arm on the bar top. I couldn't help keeping my lip from twitching into a small smile.

"Well," I started, pressing my lips together and turning on my stool to face him. His dark eyes twinkled mesmerizingly under the light above, my eyes raked his body dressed in all black from head to toe, "You can either find out tonight or never get to find out at all."

He raised one of his thick eyebrows, "Is that an invitation?"

I took another sip of my drink and placed it down, lifting my finger and pressing it against the corner of my lip where a drop of scotch dripped down my lip. I then wiped my lip clean with my thumb, pressing it back into my mouth to suck the rest of the whisky off of it.