Page 47 of Bleeding Outside the Lines

I use the time while everyone is still waking from their slumber to get myself ready— physically and mentally. I wash away the last few days, cleansing myself of Cassius. Ridding myself of his scent, of his touch. I scrub at the memories, the ones where he held me close. The ones where I fought him and he did not fight back, but instead brought me down to solid ground. The ground where I found the footing I thought I’d lost. The ground that seemed so far away but now sits sturdy beneath me.

A text comes through on my burner, but I delete it without reading it. I know it’s Cassius, who just woke up and found his bed empty. I knew it would come. I could have ditched the phone on my ride home. I could have run over it with my bike. I could have stomped on it. But it was a test I forced upon myself instead. One that, apparently, I passed.

Which is good becauseCassius must die.

thirty-three

Walking into the meetingspace feels like walking into a hall of mirrors. Eyes are everywhere, taking in every move I make. The five other high queens stare at me from a monitor on the wall as I take my seat. Their faces are like stone, the only thing soft about them are the wrinkles that the Ruby from Europe has at the corners of her eyes.

She’s the first of us to show any signs of aging. Rubys do not grow old. They disappear. They die. They get replaced. In the end, we are all replaced one way or another. I have spent my life as Ruby thinking I was invincible, but as I look around at the others, I know the truth. We’re all replaceable.

I make eye contact with the latest replacement Ruby from Africa. Her eyes are cold and deep. Two black holes pull me into their abyss. Her dark skin is flawless like silk and although she’s the youngest, the greenest of all of us, it’s her that makes me the most uneasy. As if she reads my mind, she smiles. Her white teeth like that of a shark, gleaming and hungry.

My lips turn up in my own smile, because as much as I understand that I’m replaceable, I also know that I’m the one they should all be afraid of. I’m the one that hunts at night, the one with feet as silent as a ghost. I’m the Ruby the world should fear.

“Now that we’re all here,” Asia’s Ruby commands our attention in her perfect English, “let us discuss why we’re interrupting our busy schedules. Plead your case, North America.”

“There is nothing to plead, ladies,” I say, the words floating off my tongue. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure why this meeting has even been called. I am working a mark and you interrupted it.”

The silence in the room is deafening. Did they really expect me to come in here and show my hand? Amateurs. All of them.

“This job is taking longer than usual,” I continue, “because I have had to spend time vetting it due to where the order came from. Did you know it came from within the Reds?” I narrow my eyes at each of them in turn, daring them to contradict me. “And forgive me if I’m incorrect, but personal vendettas are not part of my job description, or yours for that matter. Each Red is to handle her own vendetta; however she deems fit. So how, ladies, did this get this far?”

“Rawlings submitted a formal request to me herself,” Europe retorts, her wrinkles more prominent with each syllable. “As her original recruiter, and chapter liaison, that was protocol.”

“Protocol?” I scoff. “To keep her true identity and the truth behind this mark from me? All that did was open me up to danger. Danger that could have been avoided had I been provided all the information.”

Europe leans forward, the scowl on her face menacing, and I wonder if I’ve underestimated her. “Providing you or anyonewith her true identity would have been dangerous. It would have made her a target. You must see who you’re dealing with.”

Understanding dawns on me. “You think he would have recognized her and gone after her?”

Europe nods. “Now, it has been brought to our attention that you have not been operating as a Red. That you have worked through all the steps and yet Mr. Cross lives and breathes. Why is that?”

South America hums in agreement, and I throw her a pointed glare.

“Mr. Cross has proven to be a formidable opponent. He has resources that rival our own, and in addition to that, he’s a violent man. I have been careful. I have been weaving in and out of his periphery, and if I am being honest, Rawlings stunt the other night showing up at his club looking like Hannah, put him in a good place for me to take care of. He’s spooked. His IT guy is spooked. Spooked people make stupid mistakes. Mistakes that will cost them their lives.”

South America rolls her eyes. “You’re lying.”

“What reason could I possibly have to lie?” I counter. “Mr. Cross will die; I promise you that.”

“You have had every opportunity. You have recently been, ah, what do they call it? Ah sí, AWOL. And now you sit here and lie through your teeth. Where have you been?”

“I’m sure you know by now that my parents are dead.”

“Your point?”

“After I killed them, I got dragged away for a recruitment about three hours from here. I stayed several days and would have stayed longer if not for this meeting.”

“Where is the girl?”

“Enough,” Europe raises her voice. “North America, you have been accused of consorting with your mark and are flirting dangerously with being charged with treason.”

My heart pounds in my chest, but my face remains stoic. The face of a warrior, the face of someone with nothing to hide, nothing to lose. I raise an eyebrow of disbelief at Europe and then at the others.

“If you are looking for me to give you some kind of explanation, I will not because the accusations are exactly that. Accusations. Accusations with no basis whatsoever. And if you want to charge me with treason, you’ll have to bring more to the table than your weak threats.”

“Exhibit A,” Australia responds, and a picture of me straddling Cassius on the hood of his car appears in the corner of the screen. “Is this not you?”

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