In Too Deep

Eleven

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It's not originally what she thought it would be.

Inside the warehouse, there was nothing but opened and unopened boxes with dust over them; large and small, all lined up in perfect single lines. The air smelled of old things and dust. But Nova guessed it was the perfect coverup. The perfect illusion for anyone who stumbled inside the warehouse. One wouldn't think it was a spot for a gang, but if you venture further, past the white blinds, you might shatter the illusion.

When you step past the normalcy, you find chaos. Men hovering around a large room, all ripped and huge. Some lounge on a couch, drinking, and smoking. Others were playing video games, punching bags, or loading guns and putting them in crates. It wasn't just guns, but there are money counters that were making awful noises and teddybears being ripped open in the stomach, putting something powdered inside before sewing them up.

It was something she had always seen on the screen of her tv, but what she was seeing right now was the reality. There were people who do stuff like this and she was right in the center of it. Because that was where fate decided to put her at.

When eyes started to pay attention to her, Screw became her safest place; it was him she rushed to stay close to, her hands shaking, and careful not to touch anything that might leave her fingerprints behind in case the police ever raided the warehouse.

These men weren't here to play around; they were here to put down anyone that was a threat to them, and they were looking at her as if she was the dirtiest thing in the room.

Nova gets it though. Among all these men, she was the only woman. That was bound to make her unpopular, also the most unlikable. It was a good thing she didn't give a single fuck, but Ghost had to rethink his decision in bringing her here. She was fully content with just getting shit done without being trapped in a cage with lions.

They walked down a long hallway. Some of the lights in here have died and only a few remained alive. There were cracks and graffiti on the wall. Most of the doors were ajar to small rooms that held more stacked boxes and tables. She peeked into one of the rooms and wished she hadn't. Because as soon as she did, she became trapped in an unmoving expression that never faltered. It sent a shiver through her skin.

She doesn't know what people consider him, but Mario could easily be an angel of death. Except, putting his name and angel in the same sentence didn't feel right. And she wasn't going to say he didn't just put a long-barreled shotgun on his shoulder the minute their eyes connected as a threat. He was making a statement.

He stood and her breath catches. He started to approach and her heart startled, then he was slamming the door on her face.

Screw had been watching her go through her rush of emotions from the opened doorway. With the same look of mystification on his face, he hollered with a laugh, "Did you get yourself into Mario's shit list? Damn, girl." He disappeared inside another room, and she took five steps inside.

It was one big spaced room that had a wooden table and chairs. The windows shutters were closed and the air conditioner was blasting off. In front of her was a whiteboard that was at least seventy-two inches in size. Names, dates, and locations were written on them, although, most of them had been crossed off. This took Nova back to the text she had stumbled on Ghost's phone. Assassinate, she remembered it said. Seeing her name up there, she hoped she wasn't going to be assassinating anyone.

"Are you usually this annoyingly quiet?" Screw's words bounced into her ears, and she slipped him a glance to find him standing at the corner with his arms crossed.