Her Villian

FOURTEEN

Jackson

"Here you go," Marcus says as he throws a black leather folder on my desk

I grab the leather and flip through it quickly. "It is all here?"

Marcus nods, "Everything you could ever want to know about your girl is in there."

I sigh a breath of relief. "Good. You are dismissed."

Marcus sits down in front of my desk, staring at me.

"Or not." I sigh once more.

"Do you think this place remembers what it done to father?" He asks.

I set the folder down and tilt my head at him. Marcus never speaks about our father. He hasn't even mentioned him since his death.

"Probably not, people ask questions, and they find an answer. Or whatever answer the shitty authority can give them, and they forget about it under the image that justice has been served, and go on with their life until the next big thing comes up." I reply trying to seem bored.

He nods and stares blankly for a moment before looking me in the eyes.

"You swear that after you take down the mist, you will take revenge for what this city has done to us, for what it has stolen?"

I have never seen him like this. Usually Marcus is the calmer one. He's always thinking rationally and never uses the word revenge. I always knew the weight of what had happened to father would come down on him eventually but I wasn't expecting it to be so soon.

"I swear it," I say with an equal amount of determination in my eyes.

He seems convinced and in a split second, he's straightening his shoulders and standing up with a smile on his face as if he's a whole new person than what he was 5 seconds ago. "Perfect, glad we got that settled then. I shall be on my way."

I said nothing as I watched him walk out of my office and close the door behind him.

Sitting down I opened the folder back up and as usual my brother was true to his word. Everything about Amara was all here, where she has worked, where she went to school who her family is, her address, and most importantly, her phone number.

I quickly whip out my phone and dial the numbers on the paper. A few rings later and her soft voice answers.

"Hello?"

"Amara, it's Jackson," I say smoothly.

"Jackson? How did you get my number?" She is clearly confused as she should be.

"Oh, I guess you don't remember, you gave it to me after the other night at the bar." I lie

A few moments of silence before I can hear her chuckle a small awkward laugh. "Oh, right yeah I guess I was pretty out of it. Is everything okay?"

So naive

"Yes, I was just wondering if you would want to go out tonight?"

"Jackson, that's nice, but you do know I'm taken right?"

I laugh, "Of course! I just know a spot and find it relaxing and was thinking you could get some peace from it."

"That is actually...really nice...yeah, I would love that. How's uhmm...about an hour sound?" She asks.

"That is perfect, I can pick you up."

"Yeah, sounds good. See you then!"

I hang up the phone. I can tell she's still weary of me which is smart. But she is not as guarded as she was when we first met. And that is progress.

I remember how she looked in my bed that morning. Messy hair, some leftover mascara. I also remember how I felt when I saw that bastard attempting to take advantage of her. Anger. There have been a few instances in my life where I understood the meaning of seeing red, and that was certainly one of them.

Then I catch myself wondering why that bothered me so much. In my line of work, scums like that are everywhere but they never fueled that reaction out of me. I wondered if a part of me actually cared about her.

No. I couldn't. I just cared about the mission. That was my priority.