Page 65 of Lust & Lies

NOELANI

I STEPPED FURTHER INTO the weapons room. Near the back, I spotted a pair of black boots. I remembered from one of my dreams that I kept a dagger in my boots. I moved over to them and checked the side slot.

Sure enough, there was a dagger inside. That could come in handy later. I rushed to take off my sneakers and pull the boots on, tying them up quickly. They fit perfectly, leaving me feeling like a Cinderella assassin. Killerella.

“Hurry, Noe,” Gertrude called from the security monitors, scaring me because I hadn’t realized I’d left the speaker on.

“I’m hurrying,” I said, knowing she couldn’t hear me but feeling like I should respond.

I stood, reaching for an AR-15 hanging from the rack. Awww, my Shy girl. I called her Shy because when I didn’t want to get up close and personal with a target, I pulled her out. It was amazing how some memories just slipped in easily, and others came to me in my dreams.

My fingers slid along the stock of the weapon. I didn’t think I’d need her, but I was still taking her. Bullets. Where were the bullets? My gaze dropped to the middle drawer. I pulled the drawer open and smiled.

It seemed that some things were really coming back to me. Inside the drawer, I found rounds and loaded them into the magazine. I slung Shy over my shoulder and then grabbed a duffel bag off a shelf.

I threw things in, extra magazines, more guns, knives, whatever I could fit inside. I knew I wasn’t being strategic, but I was in a hurry. Once the bag was full, I wondered if I’d overdone it.

It was heavy as hell. I slung the bag over my shoulder and exited the room. Now, uh, how was I supposed to close this door?

“Are you done gearing up, Mist?” Murder-Alexa asked.

“Um. Yes.”

“Your mask has not been removed from its drawer. Please choose a mask before leaving. That’s protocol.”

My mask? Oh, right. I remembered now. All Watchdog members wore masks when on missions. Now, where would I keep my murder mask? I opened the drawer in front of me. No mask in there. I didn’t have time to search for a mask.

“Which drawer is it in?” I asked.

A drawer to my right opened. Wow. This was some high-tech shit I had going on here. I set my heavy duffel down and walked over to the drawer. Inside were a few gorgeous silver masks. At least ten of them.

While most girls shopped for clothing, jewelry, and shoes, it seemed I splurged on weapons, tactical gear, and murder masks. The masks were gorgeous. Some covered the whole face, leaving only the eyes showing.

Some only covered the lower half of the face. I decided on the one that covered the lower half. I quickly slid the silver mask over my face, positioning it over my nose and mouth, and smoothing out the part that covered my neck.

“I have my mask on,” I said aloud, as I closed the drawer, picked up my duffle, and headed out of the room.

“Good. Remember to be safe out there, and don’t blame yourself for the lives you have to take.

You don’t kill innocents. You kill those who harm others or try to take down the people you care for.

You’re ridding the streets of people who harm the innocent and less fortunate. You’re one of the good guys.”

Tears stung my eyes as I stopped and glanced back at the room. I couldn’t believe an AI was really consoling me.

“Thank you, um... Do you have a name?”

“You call me M.O.M. My voice was programmed using your mother’s last voicemail to your father. But it also stands for Mission Operations Manager.”

Missions Operations Manager.

M.O.M.

Tears welled in my eyes. No wonder this voice didn’t sound robotic. It was my mother’s voice. I sighed, forcing down the lump in my throat.

“Thank you, M.O.M.,” I whispered, getting choked up.

“You’re welcome. Mist.”

“Let’s go, Noe. Press the switch down to close the door,” Gertrude shouted. “You have to get out of there. There’s movement near the country estate.”

Shit. Clutching my weapons, I did as I was told, closing the weapons door, then leaving the computer room. I jogged up the stairs with my heavy ass weapons. I closed the steel door behind me and moved to the front of the shed.

The four-wheelers were there waiting for me. Choosing the camouflage one, I placed the duffel on its rear rack and strapped it down. Once it was secure, I moved to the front and opened both doors of the shed so I could drive out.

I stared around the yard, looking for any signs of trouble. I didn’t see any. But if I had, what would I have done? I had the weapons, I had the mask, I looked like the infamous Mist. Though I looked the part, I wasn’t truly sure I could play the part.

I couldn’t even look at the pictures of my kills without feeling sick. I was feeling all badass because of this gear. However, if confronted by real enemies, would I be able to take a life? Would I be able to fight to survive?

I swallowed. I wasn’t sure, and I hoped I didn’t have to find out tonight. Moving quickly, I mounted the four-wheeler. It required a fingerprint to start. I pressed my finger on the little pad. I smiled when the engine rumbled.

I guess riding a four-wheeler was like riding a bike. Night air hit me as I drove out of the shed. I looked back when I heard the doors closing behind me. That was some high-tech shit. After I figured out my life, I was going to kick Aiden out of my country estate.

He couldn’t have my murder shed. Wind whipped against my face as I rode. According to Gertrude, I had seven minutes to the orchard gate. I squeezed the throttle. I was ready to get to her. Ready for her to fill me in on my past.

I was so tired of living in the dark. The tires kicked up dust behind me as I sped around the country house. As I approached the front of the house, I saw another black van haphazardly parked in the yard that hadn’t been there earlier.

This must’ve been the activity Gertrude mentioned. There was a man, Asian, mid-thirties maybe, about two hundred and fifty pounds, banging on the front door, yelling something I couldn’t quite make out over the sound of my four-wheeler.

Another man stepped out of a black van. Asian also. Hair pulled back into a low ponytail. He looked about one hundred and seventy pounds. He spotted me immediately and raised his hands, trying to flag me down.

“Noe, stop! Noe! Don’t go. It’s not safe!”

My hands tightened on the handlebars. I almost stopped. Almost. He sounded like he knew me, like he was worried about me. But he was in a black van, similar to the one already in Aiden’s yard. He was on Aiden’s team. And right now, I was so not Team Aiden. Plus, Gertrude’s voice echoed in my mind.

“There’s a small group of Watchdogs who have gone rogue and are pretending to search for you for Mr. Park. But they have other intentions. The problem is, you don’t remember who your enemies are.

I couldn’t risk stopping. I sped up and turned right onto the main road that led away from the estate. Seven minutes. That’s how long Gertrude said it would take to reach the orchard. That wasn’t long, but it felt like forever to me.

Would those guys follow me? I sure as hell hoped not. A gunshot rang out. What the hell? I flinched and ducked instinctively, eyes darting around. It hadn’t come from behind me. It came from ahead.

Lights suddenly appeared in the distance, too bright, moving too fast. They were coming straight at me. My heart skipped a beat, fear flooding my veins. The SUV barreled toward me, forcing me off the road.

My front wheel dipped into a rut, and the four-wheeler flipped. Everything went sideways. I was no longer on the vehicle. For a moment, I was suspended in the air, my mind not fully registering what was happening to me.

My body hit the ground hard. Pain shot through my shoulder, my ribs, and my side. The impact knocked the wind out of me. I groaned. Something had pierced my side. A stick, maybe. I tried to move, but my side felt like it was on fire.

I reached down and pulled the stick out. Shit. Why did I do that? Now, I was bleeding. I should’ve left the damn thing in. I placed my hand against the wound, knowing I had to stop the bleeding.

Not too far away from me, a car door slammed, followed by muffled voices. They were coming for me. I needed to move. In the dark of night, I looked for my four-wheeler. It was lying on its side, my bag of weapons still strapped to it.

I’d landed a few feet away from it. The headlights on it were still on, a beacon for my enemies. I gaze toward the road. I could see the lights of the other vehicle through the trees. Footsteps were pounding in my direction. I didn’t have time to try to lift the four-wheeler.

I had to make it to Gertrude’s on foot. The footsteps were getting closer. Side bleeding, head swimming, I used my AR-15 that was still strapped to me to push myself to my feet. I gritted my teeth. Moving hurt so damn badly.

I could feel more blood pumping out of my side. Damn you, stick. I started limping through the woods, only to realize I had no sense of direction at the moment. Which way was the route to Gertrude’s place?

I looked back toward the street to see which way the lights were facing. I needed to head in the opposite direction of those lights. I turned the other way and started limping as fast as I could.

When I’d landed, I’d twisted my ankle in a weird way. It didn’t feel broken. I could still move on it. But every time I applied pressure to it, pain radiated up my entire leg. I pushed through the pain.

I couldn’t stop. What awaited me would be worse than what I was currently feeling. That thought kept me moving. The footsteps were getting closer. I could hear them crunching over the forest floor.

My heart pounded in my ears as I limped faster, every step sending pain up my side. Don’t look back. Just move. I kept my eyes forward, forcing my body to push through the branches snagging at my arms.