Chapter 4: Bloody Mary

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A woman that appears to those who call her. She can be friendly or evil. That is for you to figure out.

💧

Taylor whistles to herself as she leaps down the fire escape to the ground. Her boots touch the asphalt soundlessly and she flips her hair back as she reaches to remove her sunglasses. She smirks and pockets the glasses as she keeps wandering towards the street.

She emerges from the alleyway just as a few police cars roll away into the night. She starts to hum again, doing a little step sequence to herself as she dips in and out of the shadows like a ghost. Heel, toe, turn, step, step, turn, heel, toe, slide...

She reaches her final destination, the rather depleted shell of a fortune cookie factory. She slips in the front doors and the sounds of the street fade away, giving way to the sounds of the Purple Dragons.

Inside, many of the Dragons train together in a wide area of empty floor laid out with mats. The beefier recruits box and wrestle, egged on by spectators waiting for their chance to spar, while others work nearby with punching bags and weightlifting and still others practice with switchblades and other melee weapons. Taylor moves past them in silence, occasionally being greeted with a brief "hola" from some of her fellow Hispanic members.

"Taylor," a voice calls from one of the upper levels.

She looks up just as she reaches the stairs, smiling a little when she sees Hun. He beckons to her and she nods, hurrying up the stairs while he watches her every move. Hun crosses his arms over his chest and she bows her head to him.

"Yes, Hun?" she asks.

"Our plan worked well tonight," he says with a pleased smirk. "Your distraction to those bothersome vigilantes was very useful."

She flutters her eyelashes. "Just a little music and a pretty smile and they're hooked."

Hun removes his sunglasses, cleaning the lens with the edge of his shirt. "How many of them?"

"Just the hockey boy and Raphael, but the turtle chose not to reveal himself," she says, resting a hand on her hip as she runs her fingers through her hair. "Too bad for him, I saw him watching."

"Good." He straightens up and rests his sunglasses on his nose.

"The hockey player, Casey Jones..." Taylor bites her lip, pinching her fingers and starting to tug at them. "He recognized me from my old school."

Hun's nostrils flare like an angry bull and she flinches a little, almost dropping the formal, collected persona she puts up around him. He takes a long breath and runs his hand through his dark hair, mussing it.

"He may get curious," he mutters. "Stupid hockey boy."

She crosses her arms over her chest, leaning onto one leg as she purses her lips in thought. "I could use it to my advantage," she says. "Casey knows me, but he doesn't know about the gang. I've lied before, I can lie again."

He takes a long look at the sixteen-year-old before him, then nods. "Alright," he says. "Do not fail to remember your goal, Taylor."

She bows to him again. "Sí, jefe."

She offers a final, sly smile before she adjusts her guitar on her shoulder and moves past her boss, en route to her room. Hun gives her a thumbs up as she goes, making her chest swell with pride.

The echoing grunts of sparring tail after her as she walks to her room. She could go blind tomorrow and still know her way through the entire factory, from the piece of railing that's looser than the others to the secret exit behind a wall of boxes on the ground floor. It's nice for her to have a place that feels so much like home.

Her room isn't much of a room, in fact, it's more like a walk-in closet or a shed. There's enough room for her bed, her guitar stand, and a bedside table, but it's cozy and she considers herself lucky that she even gets a space to herself in the first place. She sighs and shoves the door shut behind her, then sets her guitar on its stand before flopping onto her bed. Her hazel eyes light up as she peers into the terrarium on her bedside table.

"Hey Bindo, I got something for you, mi pequeña tortuga," she murmurs, pulling a few leaves of lettuce in a ziplock bag from her coat pocket.

She opens the cage and scoops her little turtle out of it, placing him on the mattress as she settles onto her stomach, her elbows propping her up. She grabs a leaf from the bag and holds it out to him, wiggling it a little to get his attention. Bindo waddles closer to it and cranes his neck out, his beak snapping on the edge of the leaf and tearing off a piece, and a satisfying crunching noise sounds as he chews.

"Can you believe it? Hun's giving me my own mission," she whispers, watching her pet and only friend eat. "My training's paying off, and after nailing Raphael in the face..." She grins, folding her arms beneath her chin as she sighs. "I actually caught him off guard. Muy loco."

Bindo makes a happy turtle noise, waddling towards her and pressing his beak to her nose. She shuts her eyes, a content smile gracing her lips as she strokes his shell with one finger.

"Te amo," she whispers. "Thanks for being my only friend." He tilts his head, his little black eyes glinting, and she sighs, eyes fluttering shut. "Do you think they deserve it?" she asks. Bindo returns his attention to the lettuce near him. She laughs weakly. "You really know how to continue a conversation, huh?"

She scoops him and places him back in his home, lettuce still clamped in his beak. She shuts the lid and rolls onto her back, grabbing her iPod and earbuds from next to the terrarium. She pops them in and holds it above her, scrolling through her music until she finds the playlist she wants. Pressing play, she lets the music sweep her away to someplace else; a world where her parents never got a divorce, a world where her dad isn't in jail, a world where she could actually be a rock star like she had always imagined.

If only sleep could bring the peace that she needs most.

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