Page 15 of Rising from the Ashes

In this town, if you aren’t a cop or a fearful law abiding citizen, it is almost inevitable to grow up and become involved in large crime rings.

It was rumored that Enzo and Silas, Calista’s fiancé, wanted to expand their ring outside of weapons, to drugs and human trafficking. To do this, they would need more control of the docks. Based on the dark web reports, the timing of these rumors and Calista’s death coincided, but I was not able to find any more information on her, even given my extensive background in hacking. It was as if she was wiped clean, like she never existed.

The Huntress disappeared off the streets, until a few months ago when another female began offing crime lords and their bookies. However, her MO was different. Instead of bullets, these crime lords were being taken down with arrows, but not until they were thoroughly and gruesomely tortured as if she were trying to leave a message.

That’s when Drake started thoroughly tracking her. She made it difficult because she was good at covering her tracks. He didn’t like the idea of another dangerous player in town, especially when we got wind of Everly taking over her father’s organization. I knew it was a matter of time before this new female would be recruited due to the unique edge she possessed, so I began working toward being recruited myself.

The plan worked, but almost too well. Drake surprised me the day I was recruited saying not only did we need to get Enzo and Everly off the board, but Calista as well. I recognized her instantly at the initiation ceremony. I kept my head down in case she might recognize me from the night I rescued her, but she was in and out of consciousness so I knew those odds were slim.

She may have changed her hair color and how she dressed, but she still had a softness to her that I know she tries like hell to hide. She is hiding behind a mask of hurt and anger, using that pain to eventually get to her father. What she doesn’t understand is that with each kill, it rips pieces of her soul away until there's nothing left. I see past her facade. I know there is still a soul left in this girl, no matter how hard they tried to rip it from her.

***

Opening the basement doors, I descend the dark steps. I hear the sounds of metal clanging and Calista grunting. When I reach the bottom of the steps, I stare in awe at this five foot six inch woman making the salmon ladder her bitch.

She notices me before I reach the last step, but continues her rhythmic work out. Swinging her body, using her core to lift herself and the metal bar to the next row of hooks. Once she reaches the top, she follows the same pattern but makes her way down the hooks, and jumps down.

“Impressive.”

“Do I even want to know how you know about this place?” She huffs.

“Probably not,” I respond.

Her face is covered in sweat, her hair matted to the sides of her face. Turning her back to me, she swipes a towel off of the table that's also holding a water bottle.

My eyes glance across her back. I can see the faded marks of her wounds from that fateful night and anger stirs within me. Not knowing why her own father would leave her for dead has eaten at me since I left her with Joey.

Pushing it aside as she turns back around, I grin, “Training, remember?”

She groans, walking off toward the computer that is beeping. Leaning over, she clicks away, wrinkling her eyebrows in concentration.

I try like hell not to peer down her sports bra, but after knowing what her body looks like naked, I am failing miserably.

If she wouldn’t skewer me with an arrow, I would take her from behind right on that desk.

A familiar eighties song begins blaring through the speakers, taking me by surprise. Who would have thought this girl enjoys eighties hair bands?

“Ratt, huh?” I grin at her, “Fitting, since the first time I met you, you wanted to impale me with one of your arrows, Cupid.”

Her eyes focused on the computer screen before her, “Who says I still don’t?”

“I think last night proved you don’t.”

“Last night proved I was horny.”

I try to stifle a laugh by clearing my throat.

“You really like playin’ with fire don’t ya?” She snaps, looking away from the screen. “Call me Cupid again and I will shove an arrow through your dick.”

I smirk.

Drake would like her.

Wrapping the towel around her neck, she picks up four bamboo sticks. Throwing two my way, I catch them mid-air as I follow her to what looks like her designated fighting ring.

“Bamboo sticks, really? C’mon, who trained you?”

After some hesitation, she must come to the resolve that she can trust me because she responds, “Izinduna Zikalushi.” Lifting the sticks up, she begins to swirl them around in a circular pattern.

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