"I know that you're a cop," Nicolai said as he drove me home.
I was so zoned out the entire time after what Danté said about William that I didn't even know how I got into Nick's black SUV. I just vaguely remember Danté summoning Nick back into his office, and then commanding him to take me home.
I studied Nick's expression. He seemed less bothered by the fact that I worked for the police than the night before. I wondered what Danté had told him.
"The boss told me," Nick said, keeping his eyes on the road. "But I know that there was some truth to your lies. I could see it in your face as you talked to Danté today."
My act seemed to convince more than one person. Maybe I should've been an actor.
I tried to look apologetic, "I'm sorry for blatantly lying like that."
Nick shook his head in understanding, "No need to be sorry. You did what you had to to survive, otherwise at least Damian would've f*ckin' slaughtered you." He stopped at the red traffic light (so mafia members follow traffic laws?) and he locked his eyes with mine. Today, they had emerald lenses in. I wondered for a second what his real eye color was, but then reminded myself that I didn't care.
"I know better than anyone that sometimes you do f*cked up shit to survive. But lying really isn't the worst of it," he smiled, "And I know that you were sincere about the most important part."
Oh, you poor naive man. You couldn't have been more wrong, I thought. I almost felt sorry for him.
"You're right," I nodded, "I really am against my father. I'm glad that you, at least, believe me."
I could see a little bit of pink forming on Nicolai's cheeks, "I know what it's like when no one believes you."
I tilted my head in question.
He returned to focusing on the road, as the light turned green. "I'll tell you some other time. It's a long story," he said.
"Okay," I said in understanding, "I get it. But just know that you can talk to me whenever you feel like you need someone to listen. That's one thing that I'm good at."
Nick chuckled, "Yeah, that's something Hannah can't do at all."
Hannah. That little shit. I forgot all about her for a second there. I had a few bones to pick with her. And she had better put on a helmet, because I sure as hell was going to Judo flip her when I get my hands on her.
"Hey, Nick? I know Danté said to drop me off at home, but would it be okay if I asked you to drop me at Hannah's? I really need to talk to her," I requested. I used the cutest voice I could muster. I almost gagged.
The tip of Nick's ears turned red. "Ah... S-sure, no problem. B-but I'll have to come with. Or, like, wait outside if you wanna talk about girl stuff. I still need to personally escort you home. There's a tracker in the car."
Of course there was.
"Why does he put a tracker in your car?" I asked, out of sincere curiosity.
Nick shrugged, "Well, I guess he likes to keep an eye on us, to make sure we're doing our jobs and shit."
I checked myself: under my shoes, my phone, my bag. There was no way that I was going to let this guy know my every move.
Nick laughed, "You don't have to worry, sweetheart. You don't need one."
I sighed in relief. I was glad I at least had my privacy.
Also, what's with these men and the cringey nicknames they give me? It made me want to throw up.
Nick wasn't done talking, and cleared his throat, "But you have Damian. And some people would argue that he's worse than a tracker."
Oh, for Pete's sake!
"Why does he have to follow me around?" I wailed. "I told you guys that you could trust me."
"I get why you're upset, but it's about more than checking if you're not snitching, or doing your job. It's also to protect you," Nick explained.
Protect me? From whom? From what? The Inferno was the most dangerous people out there. And although I'm a lousy police officer, I could at the very least protect myself against a common street criminal.
"What do you mean? Am I in danger?" I asked Nick.
"Of course you are," Nick said, matter-of-factly. "If the other gangs learn about what you are doing, they won't hesitate to beat the information out of you and try to get you for themselves."
I was just a pawn, Danté had said. But I was actually invaluable to them. It made me feel a little powerful, in a way.
Nick's grip on the steering wheel tightened, so much so that his knuckles turned white. "Believe me if I say, you do not want to be captured by The Riot. Those f*ckin' filthy bastards will do anything to make you theirs. They have no morality, or respect for human life."
Do they, now? What makes The Inferno any better? What about the dead police officers?What about the blood on Danté's shirt and boots?
But Nick's words still made me gulp. At the very least, The Inferno would keep me alive until I've served my purpose, without hurting me.
"The things I've heard... The things those f*ckers would do to you..." Nick's emerald eyes were filled with an anger that scared me. I did not ever want him to look at me like that. I knew if that were the case, then those panther eyes would be the last thing I would ever see again.
I just hope when that day comes, he'll be behind bars already.
We stopped in front of Hannah's studio. It was a luxurious place, and anyone could see from the outside that Hannah definitely wasn't poor.
"Thanks, Nick," I said. "I appreciate you making this detour for me."
He smiled sweetly, "Anytime, Pancake."
Don't throw up, don't throw up, don't throw up.
I was about to get out when I remembered something. "Uhm, Nick?"
"Yes?"
"Could I ask you something?"
Nick's cheeks turned a little rosy, as if he was expecting me to ask him out or something. "Oh, yeah. Of course. Ask away."
Sorry to burst your bubble, lover boy.
"When Danté talked about 'when it all began', what time was he referring to?"
Nick looked visibly disappointed by the fact that that was my question. "I think he meant before the war againt The Riot."
"War?" I asked, confused.
Nick nodded, "Yes. You cops probably just know it as a big fight between us, but it wasn't just a fight. To us, it was war."
I remembered from the case files that I secretly read, that the fight between these two gangs killed a lot of innocent civilians. But from what I have read, not that many lives were lost to call it a full blown war.
"Countless lives were lost, especially on our side, because we didn't expect The Riot to attack us. It was an ambush. They completely trashed our old base - burnt it to ashes. And there were innocent civilians that worked for us, killed in the process," Nick told, and he looked sincerely bothered by the fact.
It was a different story from what I have heard. As I understood it, the civilians were innocent bystanders that were purposefully killed to prove a point to the police that these gangs owned this city. But now that I think about it, it sounds very odd. Why would these gangs kill innocent citizens to prove a point to the police, when it was a fight between the gangs themselves?
Nick leaned back in his seat. He looked deep in thought, "We weren't completely at peace with them, but each of us know our turf and stay on it. We have rules about these things. But when The Riot barged into our base that time, they weren't there to negotiate turf. They were there to f*ckin' slaughter."
It was a very strange case indeed. And as much as I want to ignore their part of the story, it was still there. And this information was something that the police didn't have either. If I could find out why The Riot attacked them that day, I might find out a lot more missing bits of information what the police didn't know. And maybe I could eventually find out what started the whole cop murdering spree.
"Thanks for telling me, it's a great help," I said to Nick with a grin. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
I kicked Hannah's door open with a bang. It wasn't locked at all, and that was why I could do that. Otherwise I would have broken my foot.
She was busy painting a naked man that suspiciously looked too much like Damian, and the thought made me queasy, so I quickly looked away.
Her overalls were covered in paint, and her long blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun.
Hannah blinked at me in shock. "Pooksie wooksie bear?! What has gotten into you?"
My left eye twitched. "What has gotten into me? WHAT has gotten into me?!"
I ran towards her, making her drop her paint brush and run away from me.
"I'll tell you what has gotten into me when I slam your skinny butt into the ground, you lying little shit!" I shouted as I chased her around the studio.
"Wahhh~~ You're smaller than me, Pooksie~~!" Hannah squealed.
"But I'm older by 3 months and today I will discipline you as your elder!" I roared.
She was going to tell me everything and she was going to do it now. She had no way to escape my wrath.
I finally got hold of her and picked her up off the ground, tossing her over my shoulder and slamming her into the ground.
She screamed as she landed square on her skinny behind.
I sat down in front of her, and grabbed her by the shoulders. "You are telling me everything. NOW."
Hannah rubbed her sore booty. "Do you mean Damian or do you mean the Inferno?"
"EVERYTHING."
Hannah chuckled sheepishly, "Heh...heheh... So, was going to tell you eventually..."
I raised my eyebrow, "Were you, now?"
Hannah let her head hang, loose strands of hair sticking to her face. "I don't even know where to start."
"Try the beginning."
Hannah sighed, "Alright, alright. I sort of grew up with those guys. Damian, Nick, and Danté." She quickly waved her hands in denial after she saw my expression, "No, no. I'm not a part of The Inferno. My biological dad was a member, though.
My mom used to be a stripper at a club that the Inferno mafia members used to hang out at. And well, then she had a one-night stand with a man called Wesker Jackson, an elite member of the Inferno."
"Wesker Jackson was your father?" I asked. His portrait was in that long hallway back in Club Blue Flame, and he was one of the members whose names were recorded in the case files back at the police station.
Hannah nodded, "Yes, and he was actually a very good dad. Everything I have now was because of his continuous love and support throughout my childhood."
He was still a member of the mafia. He might have seemed like a good dad to her, but he had so many sins that no amount of good parenting could make up for.
"I know what you're thinking," Hannah said, "He was a gang member, he killed many. But he would never hurt innocents."
"You were a kid, how would you have known that?" I asked, sceptical of the kind of person Hannah's deceased father was.
Hannah looked a little hurt, "Spoken like a true cop. You're obviously going to look at them through a very one-sided perspective. You only believe what the police tell you. But they aren't all good either."
I was taken aback by what Hannah said. How could the people fighting for the safety of the city not be good people?
"I know I sound like I condone what the Inferno does, but that's not it at all. I just grew up with those boys. I know them as the human beings that they are. They had to do what they could to survive."
Hannah got up and went back to her painting, "So what are you going to do, Pooksie? Are you working for them?"
I told her about Danté's commands and how I truly felt about the whole situation. I even told her about my plan to take the gang down myself, because I trusted her.
Hannah listened intently as she painted Damian's butt. Them she turned to me with a concerned expression, "Vee, do you have even the slightest idea who you're up against? There is no way in hell that your plan will work. These people are ruthless."
"I know, Hannah, but there were innocent lives lost. And it's going to keep happening if no one does anything about it," I tried to convince her. And myself.
"Vee, you don't understand. If you betray Danté..." Hannah looked terrified.
I scoffed, "What? I thought you were big buddies. Couldn't you talk him out of killing me?"
Hannah didn't think I was funny. "Vee, Danté does what he wants. No matter who tries to convince him otherwise, Danté doesn't listen to anyone. It's like trying to stop a forest fire; it will blaze on until it burns itself out. It's impossible to stop it. It has a mind of its own." Hannah wiped her forehead, leaving a blue line of paint across her face. "Danté has one thing on his mind, and that is revenge. Whoever tries to come in his way will be eliminated."
A very comforting idea, thanks Hannah.
"He was the one that told me to invite you that night," Hannah said, confirming my earlier email suspicions.
"Why?" I asked her.
Hannah stopped painting and looked at me with a guilty expression, "I kind of... Told him about you."
"Hannah!" I groaned.
"I know! I'm sorry, I knew you were working hard to become the best cop you could be, and I figured that you might find him helpful. He could teach you a thing or two," Hannah looked apologetic, "I had no idea about his plan."
She fiddled with the corner of her canvas.
"What is it, Hannah?" I knew that she wanted to tell me something. Usually when she fidgets, she was stalling.
"I-it's nothing..."
"Hannah! Out with it!" I had no more patience left in my body.
Hannah looked at me through her lashes, "I kinda shipped you two..."
My brows furrowed in confusion, "What are you talking about? Shipped?"
She scratched her cheek with her index finger, "I was hoping that you and Danté would get together."