He took off his sunglasses and looked at Brooke with narrow, almost black eyes. “You’ll have to work for us.”

  Before she had time to ask what sort of work, the elevator pinged and Lee led her to a massive two-level apartment. Brooke walked inside and saw a short, glass barrier shielding the steep fall down to the second level. The floors were of light wood, and the walls were painted in a shiny white. She walked towards the kitchen and living area, glancing at a piece of artwork hanging on the wall, facing down the wooden staircase. The artwork looked like a child had gone to town with some blue paint and a thick brush, no objects or people could be seen on the canvas. She continued past a grey, stone plant pot, one of those rectangular, long ones. Inside the black soil grew tall, green plants, nearly reaching the roof.

  “Oh, and don’t worry about the plants,” Lee said, “the cleaner will make sure they don’t die for ya.”

  The cleaner? I have a cleaner?

  The kitchen was, just like everything else, massive. The smell of bleach filled Brooke’s nostrils. She felt like she might sneeze, but held it back. Grey countertops formed an L around the left corner of the space. The fridge was of grey steel, double doors, and below a shelf filled with cups, champagne flutes, and wine glasses lay three sinks. Three? Why would you need three sinks?

  Turning her gaze to the right, she noticed a corner shaped white, leather couch and a glass coffee table placed upon a fuzzy rug in the colour of red, black and white. Wall-sized windows looking down the city streets made her feel a little dizzy, she had never been inside an apartment with windows like that and wondered if she would be able to stand near them at all. She glanced over the high-rises surrounding hers; it was all she could see from where she was standing. Streaks of sunlight painted the surface of the buildings in a sharp shade of yellow.

  She turned to look at Lee, who was typing something on his phone.

  “Come on,” he said without looking up, “let me show you your bedroom.”

  Brooke followed him down the stairs and watched as he opened a wooden door leading into a bedroom. It was nearly the size of her old trailer home. The king-sized bed lay neat and done with two fluffy pillows. To her right, Brooke noticed more of the wall-sized windows.

  “And there’s an en-suite,” Lee said as he opened a second door. Brooke peered inside and glanced over the double sinks, the massive mirrors and the shower, which could fit at least two people her size at once.

  Next to the bathroom, Brooke noticed a walk-in closet. It already had a couple of high-heeled shoes, scarfs and hats scattered on the shelves.

  “Who’s paying for all this?” she asked.

  “Does it matter?” Lee folded his arms across his chest and smirked. “Enjoy it, don’t ask questions.”

  Brooke leant back against the doorframe. “What sort of work is it you will have me do?”

  “You’ll see.” Lee began walking towards the stairs. Once on the second step, he turned back around. “By the way, your name is Abby Reynolds now.”

  Brooke frowned. “Abby? I can’t pick my own name?”

  “No.” He brushed some invisible dirt off his suit. “I will be dropping by later today with your new drivers’ licence.”

  Brooke nodded as she glanced around the room once more. A black two-seater couch completed with red and white cushions lay up against the wall opposite the bed. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll leave you an envelope on the kitchen bench, it has cash, a new phone, and keys in it. Go get some nice clothes, you need to look like a businesswoman.” Lee proceeded to walk up the stairs as Brooke tried to get her head around what had just happened.

  “Do I have your number?” she asked just as Lee was out of sight.

  “No,” he said, shouting from the second floor. “I’ll call you, you don’t call me.”

  Of course, Brooke thought, of course, that’s the case.

  ***

  The envelope did indeed contain cash, a new phone, and keys to the apartment. There was a magnetic round thing attached to the keyring as well; Brooke guessed it was a key pass for a garage. She counted the money; three thousand dollars, all in hundred-dollar notes. Gosh, I have never held so much money in my hands at once, she thought as she placed them back on the counter and picked up her new android. It was big, white, and brand new.

  She noticed a watermark on the envelope, a black circle with the silhouette of a pinup girl inside it. Underneath the mark read the words; Streetwalkers. So that’s who they are, she thought as she walked up to the bin, placed in the corner of the kitchen. She threw the envelope inside it and looked around the space. Okay, she thought, shower first, then find a clothing store. She opened the fridge and noticed it was stocked with three bottles of white wine, a champagne bottle, and a six-pack of beer.

  “Well, hello alcohol,” she said as she closed it and moved on to the pantry, which was empty.

  “Alright, food shopping.”

  Brooke jogged down the stairs and got ready for a shower. The warm, steamy water ran down from her head and soaked her naked body. Closing her eyes, she washed her face and stood there for a moment, enjoying the warmth. Being clean had never felt so good.

  Lee’s voice popped into her mind, how he had said she needed to work for him, for Streetwalkers. An eerie feeling crept up and replaced her calm joints. What would an organisation like Streetwalkers be doing? It better not be prostitution, she wouldn’t sign up for that, she would hand the keys back to Lee and go back to her Ford. If he’d even let her. It made her think of her mother; who had died of aids, as a result of prostitution. Just the thought of putting herself in that same situation made her want to cry, and throw up at the same time.

  Trying not to think of her mother, Brooke dried herself and put on her old clothes; jeans, a black tank top, and a black hoodie. She grabbed a hairbrush from her bag and walked around the bedroom, getting rid of any knots hiding within her thick hair.

  The sun was high in the clear, blue sky when she made her way to a clothing store around the corner from the apartment. Bell Avenue, that’s where she was now living.

  Chapter 4

  Brooke arrived back to her place on Bell Avenue after a couple of hours. Inside the shopping bags lay underwear, a blazer, a couple of tops, a denim jacket, boots, leggings and dress pants. As for food, she had gotten all the basics, along with some ready-to-heat meals, she wouldn’t normally cook dinner for herself, too lazy for that.

  As she placed the bags on the kitchen counter, she noticed another, unopened envelope, and a sticky note. She grabbed the note and read:

  Abby, here’s your driver's licence, and you’ve got a motorbike in the garage. Enjoy. I’ll be expecting you tonight at 10 pm at the address keyed into the GPS of the bike.

  Lee

  Brooke placed the note back on the counter and opened the envelope. The new driver’s license had her old passport picture, and the name Abigail Reynolds, written on it. Her birthday had changed, as well as her city of birth – which now said ‘Whitestead’.

  Eager to have a look in the garage, Brooke undressed in the kitchen. A bike, I haven’t ridden a bike for at least a year, she thought, but at least I know how to ride.

  She cut the tags off her new denim jacket and burgundy leggings before she put them on. She then grabbed her new, black boots. The hallway held a full-length mirror. She studied herself in her new clothes before she left the apartment.

  She had to search for a moment inside the elevator before she saw a button with the letter G, that must be it. Stepping back out once it stopped, she got met by at least twenty different metal doors, one for each apartment, she assumed.

  She soon found one with the number 15 written on it. The door could only be opened by the round, magnetic thing on her keyring. Swiping it, a loud beep sounded before the door unlocked.

  The garage was huge. It could fit at least five cars at once. In the middle of the concrete space, Brooke saw a shiny, red motorbike. At first, she couldn’t believe her eyes; it was an AMI Digital E010 Spirit. For personal use, this bike would cost around forty thousand dollars.

  Picking up her new, black helmet, she felt excited, and… for the first time in weeks, a little happy. This was all too good to be true, was she dreaming? Was she dead? Or, does Lee want her to do things she couldn’t even think of doing?

  Whatever it was, she figured she might find out later on, at 10 pm, when she had to meet him somewhere.

  ***

  The air was mild, and the city roads lay lit up by the neon lights. Brooke looked at the small, digital screen on the bike; it said it would take her ten minutes to get to her destination. She put the helmet on and listened to the roar of the bike starting up. She loved riding a bike; it was probably one of the best feelings in the world. Leaning from left to right, passing cars, and sliding between them, Brooke wished the distance would have been greater.

  The GPS pinged through the handsfree outside what appeared to be a closed-down nightclub. A broken neon sign outside read; Mystie Club. There seemed to be no lights inside the building, the windows were partially covered by wooden planks, and the door looked old and worn down. The buildings around it all looked dead as well. Old businesses which probably went bankrupt at some point in time, and had to close.

  This can’t be right, she thought as she double checked the address on the GPS. It seemed correct, after all. She parked the bike and knocked on the door. After only a few seconds, the lock clicked open, and a woman with hazel brown hair and pale face welcomed her.

  “Abby?” she said in a raspy voice.

  Brooke felt like saying ‘no,’ but, it was her name now. “Yes, I’m here to see…”

  “Come in.” The woman stepped to the side, letting Brooke through.

  The hallway lay dark, no light source to be seen. Brooke placed a hand on the wall as she followed the woman to a staircase, leading underground. The sound of techno music echoed around them, and a red-tainted light appeared as they reached the bottom. Along the walls of the big, rectangular space, lay black couches, all populated by people. In the middle of the room stood two pool tables, a group of men were too busy playing to take notice of her.

  The woman took her to the bar, where Lee was sitting.

  “The new girl is here!” she squealed as she turned to look at Brooke. Her smile formed deep dimples on her cheeks, and her brown, expressive eyes narrowed.

  Lee took a sip of his whisky. “Tone it down, Raven.” He gave the woman a look of disgust.

  Brooke placed her arm on the bar and pressed out a smile. “Nice to meet you, Raven.”

  “You want a drink?” she asked.

  Brooke thought for a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

  Raven put her hands on the bar and pulled herself up, jumping over to the other side. “What’d you drink?”

  “Um,” Brooke started, “rum and coke will be fine.”

  “Settled in alright?” Lee asked, not taking his eyes off his drink.

  “The bike is awesome.”

  “I thought you’d like it.”

  “I need to know what sort of ‘work’ I’ll be doing.”

  Raven placed a rum and coke on the bar.

  “Finish your drink, and we’ll talk.” Lee finished his whiskey and left the bar. Brooke watched as he crossed the floor and disappeared into a different room at the back.

  Raven jumped back over the bar. “Nice, huh?”

  “What?”

  “This place!”

  Brooke took a sip of her drink and scanned the space again. A couple of men, sitting on a couch, seemed to be staring at her. “I guess, who are these people?”

  Raven sat down on a bar stool and took a gulp of beer. “These are all members of the Whitestead Syndicate.”

  “Streetwalkers?”

  A short laugh. “Yeah. But we’re not fucking streetwalkers, are we? Stupid fucking name that is.”

  “So what do you guys do?”

  “You mean, what do we do? You included.”

  Brooke eyed Raven, who now had a fake smile plastered on her big lips. “I guess.”

  “Well, a little bit of everything, but we’re not as bad as the bloody Arrows.”

  Brooke took another sip of her drink. “I still don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Fucking clueless, are ya?” Raven downed the beer.

  “Obviously.”

  “You’ll have to chat with Lee, not my job to teach the new students what we do during class.”

  Brooke frowned. This is getting ridiculous. She downed her drink, wanting to speak to him now. “I’ll go and talk to him, then.”

  “Follow me.” Raven bounced away, leading Brooke to the door where Lee had disappeared into.

  This room had a bright, almost hospital-like feel. A row of tables stood lined up along the walls; a noisy, barrel-like machine roared in the corner. On the tables, Brooke noticed a bunch of see-through bags, filled with white powder. Drugs, she thought, coke, I’m not selling fucking coke. Raven led her through the bright room and into another; which looked more like an office. Lee sat at a desk, his head hidden behind a computer monitor.

  “Have fun,” Raven said before she left the room again.

  Brooke sat down on a futon, placed next to a second desk. “Just put me out of my misery.”

  Lee laughed and rolled back in his chair, making himself visible to Brooke. “The answer to your question is not straightforward.”

  “Well, give me an idea.”

  “I get jobs sent out from the boss, and my job is to pick who goes and does it.”

  “What kind of jobs?”

  “Gunrunning, drug distribution, burglary, defence, you name it.”

  Brooke swallowed. “I don’t particularly want to do any of those things.”

  Lee rubbed his forehead. “You don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “And what happens if I don’t do it?”

  “You get killed. The only reason you are still alive, is because of us, don’t you understand that?”

  She shook her head. “Nobody has been after me, and Luca told me to go here and hide, not to work for you.”

  “Did he say that?” Lee smirked. “That’s not the truth.”

  “Then what is?”

  “He told us to protect you, knowing what that would entail.”

  A knot formed in Brooke’s stomach. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do, where is he?”

  “All that matters,” Lee rose from his seat and placed his hands on the desk, “is that we are doing what he told us to do.”

  “No, I deserve to know where he is if he was the one dragging me into this.”

  Lee slammed his fist onto the desk, causing Brooke to jump in her seat. “Stop with that fucking attitude! It’s going to get you killed. I call the shots, understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me.” Lee opened a black, metal door, partially hidden behind an old mattress, stacked up against the wall.

  Brooke hesitated before she rose from her seat and followed him. She noticed her hands shaking slightly.

  Once the door was open, and all she could see what darkness inside, Lee moved up and grabbed her arm.

  “No, let me go.”

  He resumed to push her into the dark room. She fell forwards and landed on a cold, concrete floor. “Lee!”

  “Shut up.” Was all he said before closing the door shut.

  ***

  Her heart raced as she moved along the floor, trying to feel her way to the door. A horrid smell of death made her feel like throwing up. It smelled like a hundred dead rats, or a bigger animal; she wouldn’t know, it was just a guess. Once she found the door, she got up on her feet, her hand clutching the cold, door handle.

  “Lee, please let me out!” she yelled. But no one replied.

  The lights went on, and the tiny, insulated room lit up, displaying a dead body, sitting on a chair. Brooke heaved, and her hands instantly went to cover her mouth. The man’s arms were tied behind his back, and his face could not be seen; as his head was hanging down, displaying a bullet hole through his skull. A puddle of almost black blood had accumulated underneath the man’s feet.

  Brooke tried to control her breathing as tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t know what to think, or what to do. She turned and banged with her fists on the door.

  “Open the door!”

  To her relief, the door clicked open, and she fell back into the office, landing on her hands and knees.

  “Too sensitive.” She heard Lee say.

  “What the fuck? Why did you lock me in there?” she asked once she had caught her breath.

  Lee, standing behind his desk with arms crossed over his chest, shook his head. “That’ll be you next, if you don’t drop that attitude. I call, you go. Do we understand each other?”

  Brooke rose to her feet and wiped her face. “Yes, we do.”

  “Good.”

  “Who is that man?”

  “Nobody, now. He was an Arrow.”

  Chapter 5

  Sleep didn’t come easy. Lee’s words, along with a picture of the dead man, haunted Brooke’s mind. The bed was comfortable, soft, and warm, but it didn’t make the thoughts go away. A faint morning light made its way through the curtain, 6 am.

  She turned away from the light, a pulsating ache in her temples intensified. I need to find Luca, I need him, didn’t he understand that I would need him? Why did he abandon me like this? Why did he expect me to happily live my life as a criminal?

  Nothing made any sense. Her thoughts went to that night when he had rushed into their trailer home, sweat dripping down his face, his hands dirty.

  “Babe, I need to talk to you,” he had said. Brooke had been doing the dishes. “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m in trouble, and I need you to listen.”

  “What?”

  “I fucked up. I got asked to do something I didn’t want to do. And I’m in trouble, which means, so are you.”

 

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