a/n: slight gore/violence warning ; U/n stands for Uncle's name.
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Waking up on your floor was some start to your day. The uncomfortable crook in your neck as you sat up and yawned, stretching your arms out, your neck and back began to ache.
Your mind quickly retraced back to last night, when you made a break in your investigation.
Your uncle had to be linked to your father's death somehow. Your dad was kind, and he gave your uncle money when he needed it.
You guessed that need turned into a demand, and your father couldn't turn him down. Your uncle was manipulating your father. And he lost his life because of it. How? You aren't so sure of yet.
Your stomach was grumbling and begging to be tended too. You decided some breakfast would be a good idea. An even better idea would be to go see Roky. So you got dressed.
When you were dressed, you grabbed the essentials before leaving and headed toward the bar. It was a little further away than the convenience store you stopped at last night, but at least it wasn't raining like last time.
Walking in, the rather overwhelming smell of alcohol woke you up even more. A few heads turned at the sound of the bell ringing on the door. Roky's head perked up and his expression quickly contorted to joy when you sauntered over to the bar.
"Good mornin' Sunshine." Roky pulled out a glass and filled it with an orange substance.
"I'm not drinking-"
"It's orange juice, relax." Roky smiled, setting the filled glass in front of you. He momentarily paused what he was doing to talk with you.
"Anything happen after we hung up?" Roky asked, pouring himself a glass of the tangy citrus juice. You nodded and took a quick sip before letting him know the information.
"I think my uncle was involved somehow. There was no reason, no motive, for my dad's death because he had money. He owed money. He was in debt to someone, and I think that someone was my uncle." You explained.
"So you think your uncle killed him? Roky questioned, beginning to move some things around as you explained.
"Possibly, but my uncle isn't the one to do his bidding. He had someone else do it, so he wouldn't be guilty. My father lent him money all the time, so imagine my uncle takes this money and uses it for drugs, or some big corporation and they need more but he doesn't have any, so what does he do? Ask for more."
"And when your father finally cut him off, he got angry." Roky elaborated. You nodded and stared at the glass on the bar counter. It made you mad just thinking about it.
"That rotten bastard got my father killed." You seethed.
"You don't know that for sure, but it's a great lead." Roky calmed you down. You didn't have solid evidence to pin it against your uncle, but it was a good start, a good place to start digging.
"Do you have anything on him?" You ask, hoping Roky might know something.
"I was close with your father, but your uncle wasn't really in the picture." Roky didn't have anything to give you. This was information you would have to dig up on your own.
"Thanks anyway." You smile. Finishing off the rest of your orange juice, you hopped up from your seat and began to walk off when Roky stopped you.
"You sure you're okay, Kid?" Roky asked, his figure now standing in front of you.
"I'm doing about as okay as I can be right now." You breathe out, feeling like people were staring at you, you began to get fidgety.
"If you need anything, I'm always here. Be safe Kiddo." Roky patted the top of your head and stepped out of your way.
"Yeah, I will." You replied, heading back out.
Feitan and Phinks ducked down behind some shrubbery across the street, peaking at you in their disguises.
Looking like average citizens was certainly not their style, but they figured it would stop you from noticing them, at least as long as you didn't interact with them.
You began to head toward the public library. Although a creeping sensation was driving you up the wall. You felt like you were being watched again. Turning around to examine your surroundings, no one looked out of the ordinary.
Two men were a few yards behind you, dressed simply in some jeans and t-shirts looking at some paintings being sold outside, but besides that, everyone else was moving around.
Deciding it was just paranoia from the other night creeping back around, you resumed the walk toward the public library. You weren't even sure if they'd still have record books available for the public, but it was a start.
Feitan and Phinks were not super amused about the idea of entering a library, but anything to keep on your tail and make sure you weren't planning some escape.
Feitan was the first to get called out by someone, which caused your head to turn in the direction of the disruption.
"If you don't have a library card, you can't check that out." The lady said from behind the counter.
Feeling generous, you approached the two men, who you had coincidentally seen behind you earlier.
"I can help with that." You smiled, sliding over your card. The lady behind the counter sighed and scanned your card before scanning the book the man had selecting.
"Thanks." The man replied. His voice was odd, definitely not what you were expecting.
Feitan was nervous, for some reason. His cover could've been blown had he of tried to say more than one word, let alone he was struggling to sound unlike himself.
Phinks, on the other hand, was trying not to laugh his ass off.
"No problem, just let me know if you check anything else out." You laugh, heading back around to the records and files section.
Feitan had just picked up a book that had interested him, it wasn't like he was actually going to check it out, but assuming he had to stay on the low, he should make it seem like he's a normal civilian.
Sifting through a few books, you came across one that matched your last name's initial. It was a start.
Grabbing the first three in the category, you walked over to a table and sat down, beginning to search through the papers for your uncle's name, or possibly your father's.
Coming up with nothing in the first hour was stressing you out, not to mention the fact that your hunger was only growing. You still had two books to go through, plus whatever was still on the shelf. Surely you could check a few more books out.
No, you couldn't, at most you could only check one more out. You'd have to...
I can't. There's no way.
You thought, thinking of storing the other books in your bag and hoping to get out without looking suspicious. There were no cameras in sight so you swiftly placed the other books in your bag and slung it over your shoulder before approaching the counter.
"Just this for today?" The same lady who had given the man from before a hard time, was checking your books out now.
"That's all." You remained composed for the sake of not being caught. Had you not have had a few books at home checked out, you wouldn't have to steal the others.
"You still have three books checked out, plus the one you lent to someone. Those books are still in your possession?" The lady asked as she scanned your book. You nodded.
"A fee will be charged if they are not returned by the end of next month." She said monotonously. She reminded you of Feitan.
Wait why am I thinking of him? What the fuck?
You shook your head and returned your attention to Teresa, the woman behind the counter.
"Y-yeah. Got it, thank you!" You quickly rushed out, grabbing the book off the counter and sprinting down the sidewalk.
Feitan and Phinks trailed behind you, stopping whenever you did, making sure to not look suspicious. Although it was beginning to look odd. Doing a quick costume change while you had stopped into another store for some food, Feitan and Phinks looked like different people again, this time both wearing some sort of hat and sunglasses.
When you returned home you put your groceries away and rushed back to your bedroom. You could feel the pressure building up inside you. Something was going to come to the surface soon.
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After three hours of reading, writing down names, and tracing those names back to your uncle, you had something. The tiniest bit of hope.
Bryce Lazarus, age 33, six-foot-two inches, or 188 centimeters tall, he is the only son of a wealthy small-town mafia boss.
A town that just so happened to be yours.
It was odd to think that there were mob ties in your hometown. It certainly didn't feel divided, but assuming every town had its secrets, you could only wonder just what the hell was your hometown was hiding?
The later it got, the more bored Feitan was getting. He was itching for something to do.
"I'm...hungry." Feitan mumbled, looking away from your bedroom window, he looked at Phinks.
"We've got a lovely selection of shit and piss if you up for it." Phinks groaned as the two looked around at the empty wrappers and bottles from the snacks and drinks they'd brought to keep them at bay while watching you.
"Consuming them...within the first hour was...rather foolish." Feitan replied, looking back in your window. His cheeks began to heat up as you began to strip.
"Pervert." Feitan mumbled as he looked away, Phinks continuing to watch.
"Shut up." Phinks mumbled as he turned away, vouching to save what little respect he had left in him.
You changed into some darker clothing, hoping to blend into the night. You had traced a location down by the docks, one that would hopefully lead you somewhere else to find more information.
"She's going out again, we'll head back to the hotel and come back once we get some sleep." Phinks suggested, he was tired, and he didn't want to people-watch any more without some proper sleep.
By the time it had gotten completely dark outside, you were ready.
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Approaching the docks, you crept in the shadows, keeping your aura concealed. You hoped this would eliminate someone sensing you.
It was dangerous. This place was crawling with security guards, and you certainly didn't want to get caught. If this Bryce guy was somehow connected to your uncle, or let alone your father, he was sure to recognize your last name.
Dipping down around some oil barrels, you kept yourself hidden. You watched as some guards walked past, conveniently stopping just a few feet away from where you were hiding.
"Boss is gonna be here soon, be sure the place is secured." One man said to the other.
The boss huh? Bryce may be taking over, his father has been dead for a few years. Unless there was someone else in the family that took over-
"K-3 Laz Gaurd, Bryce is landing now, I repeat Bryce is landing now." a voice over a walkie-talkie cut through their conversation.
So it is Bryce. Great.
You held your breath as they walked past, deciding to move quickly.
"Hangar 4-C." You heard a broken bit of communication as the voice faded off of the walkie-talkie.
You decided that was where you were going to find Bryce, all you had to do was get there.
It was much easier than you thought, being able to hide behind oil barrels and large storage boxes, you made it to the hangar rather quickly.
You didn't expect to see a man tied to a chair, let alone did you expect what was about to happen.
"Ah, I see he's here." Bryce walked alongside three bodyguards. Bryce adjusted the cuffs of his navy suit. He looked like a villain, comically so, he had chestnut hair with a menacing set of chocolate eyes.
"Such a shame, I have to get my hands dirty again, because of you." Bryce began to talk, approaching the man who was tied to the chair, a black bag rested over his face. But not for long.
Bryce pulled it back and shock set in. Your uncle was tied to that chair.
"I did everything you asked!" Your uncle pleaded.
"Oh shut it, U/n." Bryce taunted. You covered your mouth to prevent any noises from slipping out.
Positioning a set of steel-brushed brass-knuckles on his right hand, Bryce cracked his knuckles before delivering a rather nasty punch to your uncle's jaw. You flinched as you heard the gut-wrenching cracking sound.
Your uncle's groans and sounds of agony flooded the hangar as his blood began to splatter across the polished cement floor.
You were yanked from your hiding spot and tossed onto the floor, two armed guards leaned over you, pointing large black guns at you.
"Boss, we found this one lurking around." Your wrists had been bound together as they tossed you onto the ground, your uncle was now unnoticeable up close. His face was bloody and bruised, his lips and eyes swollen.
"Hm, a pretty little thing isn't she." Bryce knelt beside you, brushing his knuckle against your jaw.
"I'm not here to cause trouble." You glanced at your uncle before feeling rage bubble inside you.
"I'm here for him." You spat, looking at your uncle. His head turned toward your voice as the realization set in.
"Y/n?" Your uncle called out, but a gunshot rang in your ears as your uncle's body fell limp.
"Did you two know each other?" Bryce wiped the drops of blood that had splattered across your cheek with his thumb, watching as your eyes turned dark.
"H-he-"
"I can't let you go, not yet." Bryce muttered, standing back up.
"You saw a bit too much, so we've got to send you off with a warning of what happens if you tell." Bryce paced around you.
Pain, burning pain. It spread throughout your body as he kicked you, and beat you until you were barely breathing right.
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Feitan and Phinks quickly picked the lock to your front door. They hadn't seen you enter your front door for a few hours now. They were beginning to worry if you'd gotten home at all, or if you'd run off.
They did not expect to see you laying by the same window they'd broken into, the one with the fire escape stairs, beaten and bleeding out onto your wooden flooring.
"Jesus, shit." Phinks approached you, kneeling beside you. You were still breathing, but you were out of it.
"Should we...help her?" Feitan asked, not knowing if letting her die would be a good idea.
"Boss would be mad if we let her die, I'm assuming he wants her alive when we bring her in." Phinks groaned, heaving you over his shoulder, he carried you to your bathroom.
"I can't believe I'm doing this." Phinks sighed, placing you down in the bathtub gently.
"I want...to help." Feitan smiled, searching around for a first aid kit. He enjoyed beating up and torturing his victims, but when it came to the healing process, he would've opted to stay out of it. But you, you were his canvas. And he was going to find out who did this to you.
And make them suffer.
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