Page 7 of Bleeding Outside the Lines

Riley smiles appreciatively. “Girls, from now until further notice, you are all Amelia, a posh British girl who goes to an all-girls boarding school. Her family comes from old money. Da died when she was a wee babe, and Mum is a socialite. Everything you say, everything you do, every movement you make, must be as Amelia. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss,” all six girls say in unison.

“Okay let us move on to our current marks. Reagan, could you please give us an update on Mr. Davis?” The girls take this as their cue to begin the work on their objective. They spread themselves around the room, a plan in motion.

Reagan stands, her dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She’s been a Red almost as long as Rowan and I have. She taps on her tablet and a man’s face fills the screen.

“For those who weren’t here last week, a quick background on Mr. Davis,” she begins, her voice steady with years of practice. “Mr. Davis is a pro bono case. He is a white male, forty-one years of age. He’s a divorced father of two. We received intel two weeks ago that Mr. Davis has a drug problem. Which in and of itself is not a big deal. It became a big deal when he started to take inappropriate photographs of his children in order to pay for his habit.”

Normal women would react to this statement. Normal women would be visibly and audibly outraged. We are not normal women. If any of us feel the need to react to cases such as this one, we do so in private. We do not show weakness. Ever.

“And where are we in his timeline? Have you scheduled my services?” I ask, nudging Reagan along. While all of us are capable of taking out a mark, it is my responsibility as Ruby to perform such tasks, if only to keep the rumors alive.

“Per your instructions last meeting, we delivered the letter, and then we plastered his car with pictures of him in his underwear while he was at work. We also laced his wine with a laxative while he was on a date. The kiss print on the toilet paper in the bathroom was priceless.”

Reagan updates the screen to show pictures, and collectively we show emotion. Laughter fills the room, and I can’t help but think about what we would look like to an outsider. Maniacs I suppose.

She continues. “We delivered his kiss of death a few days ago. He is so far on edge that if we don’t act soon, you won’t get the chance to end his life before he takes matters into his own hands. I have scheduled your services for this week.”

I nod, and we move on to the next mark. This one is a nurse who works with elderly patients. Photos fill the screen once again. We sit in silence as Reya explains the complexities of this case. We have been hired by a victim’s son, who tried and failed to bring Ms. Whitlock to justice. Ms. Whitlock does not appear to be taking the threat of yours truly seriously. The abuse continues and, in many cases, appears to increase in intensity after we make my presence known. With her kiss of death being delivered last night, I don’t want to run the risk of her hurting anyone else. I make the executive decision not to wait any longer. She dies tonight.

There is some shuffling and a scream ripples through the room. Rawlings has one of the older Amelia’s faces down on the ground with the girl's wrists pinned to her lower back, the red ribbon clutched in her small fingers. Rawlings removes the ribbon from the girl’s fingers and helps her up.

“You need to work on keeping your hands steady,” she tells the girl standing in front of her. “Your hands were so shaky, it sounded like a fly buzzing in my ear.”

Amelia huffs, pushing her shoulders back and her chin up. “Wait until my mum hears about this,” she retorts, and then she turns her back to Rawlings and walks with purpose to her place along the wall.

“We got a new one this morning.” Remy, the youngest of all the Reds, uses her tablet to bring a young man's face up on the screen. “This is Bentley Drake. We, I mean Rowan, hasn’t really had time to dig yet, but we know he’s currently a college student, and it looks like his hit may have been ordered by an ex-girlfriend.”

The room nods collectively, as if we understand the dynamics that would bring a woman to this—hiring an assassin. But none of us know intimate relationships beyond the act of sex, so how could any of us actually understand?

“Okay, Rowan do what you do best and go digging for dirt on Mr. Drake,” I say before turning back to Remy. “Rowan will share the information with us and then you and I will arrange a meeting to discuss where to go from there, yes?”

Remy nods in agreement, and then my case is the only one remaining.

Cassius.

I stand, and his gray eyes stare back at me from the large screen.

“This is an anonymous kill for hire. But honestly, even if it wasn’t, I believe he would have made it onto our pro bono radar in due time. His name is Cassius Cross, he’s twenty-eight years old, and he owns the club on 16th Street downtown.”

“He runs the casino,” Reya interrupts. “I recognize him from tracking other marks.”

“Correct. Which makes him a tricky mark. He will not go down easily; he will fight back. Hard. Rowan has not dug too deep on Mr. Cross yet, but I have no doubt that he has a closet full of skeletons, including the kidnapping of a local girl and paralyzing her brother. I’ve got it under control for now but will call upon you if necessary.”

I catch Rowan’s eye, and she nods almost imperceptibly. I neglected to tell the group about the phone call and the alarms. Some things are better left unsaid. Some things are better left private.

With a wave of my hand, the meeting is dismissed. Rowan and I exit together, leaving the remaining Reds to mingle as they deem necessary.

“Do you plan on filling me in on what’s going on in that Red head of yours?” She asks when we’re out of earshot of the others. “Do I need to be concerned about you Rubes?” She nudges me with her shoulder and if it was anyone else, I might slice them from navel to nostril without a second thought. But Rowan isdifferent, for a long time we were a team, inseparable even. As children, we were recruited around the same time, and she was my first friend, my only friend, until I became Ruby, and everything changed. But Rowan’s never stopped trying and in a weird kind of way, she’s still my friend, even if I don’t know how to be hers.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I lie, not meeting her gaze, afraid she will see through my mask.

“Rubes, you’re taking on too much. You have two hits in the next two days, and now you’re taking on Cassius Cross on your own.”

“You know that I’m capable of the hits. It’s nothing that should worry you. And besides, Mr. Cross is proving to be interesting, and he threatened to kill me. I can’t leave him to the devices of others. Have you made any progress finding the girl?”

We enter Rapunzel’s tower, Isabella’s face lights up every screen.

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