"NOT ALL WOUNDS HEAL. SOME JUST LEARN TO ACHE SILENTLY"
Omari raised his brows inquiringly. "You're familiar with them?"
"Way too familiar," I said, clenching my fist. "I remember they were basically the mafia of this country. Got involved in shady deals, erased hindrances, and were practically untouchable because they had puppets in high places."
Those bastards. How could I not have guessed it was them all along? It was all starting to make sense.
"Any idea why they would kill you and your parents?"
"Not really. My parents weren't the type to get into sketchy stuff. So, I'm guessing they were silenced. Collateral damage."
"And you? Same reason?"
"Nah. I charged at one of them after witnessing the scene. Probably got shot."
"So your feistiness got you killed?" he said with a mischievous smirk.
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."
A silence fell between us.
"Nice place you got here. Bought it with your stolen wealth?" I asked, trying to get on his nerves.
"Yep," he replied without a hint of shame. "Wanted to die peacefully and alone. So I bought it off a guy whose late grandfather had passed it down. He swore no one would ever find me here. It's literally off the grid. Just him, his dead grandfather, and me knew about it."
"And now, me."
"Yeah."
Another silence.
"Do you really think this will help?" he asked.
"What?"
"This whole revenge thing. Do you really think it'll give you the closure you're chasing? I mean, we're still going back to hell either way. You really think you'll feel better after all this?"
His eyes stayed fixed on the screen. I could tell he was deliberately avoiding my gaze.
"I'm doing this so the pain in hell will be a little lighter," I said softly. "It gets worse each time I remember those motherfuckers are still breathing. Besides, if it means leaving hell for a while—revenge is worth it. Don't you think?"
I grinned.
"I guess," he said. "But it only makes me wonder how painful it'll be to go back after a taste of relief."
For a second, I considered that. Then I shrugged it off.
"When we get to that bridge, we'll cross it. Right now? Let's go shopping."
"Shopping?"
"Of course, darling. We need to experience this new world first-hand. Your dumb old box can't show us everything," I said, standing. "And I need better clothes."
He finally got up, placing his laptop aside. He walked slowly toward me, closing the distance until I was backed up against a pillar. His hand rested above my head and one finger found its way to one of my very visible boobs. He applied slight pressure and said, "You don't need better clothes, Vel. Your body's a work of art."
Our eyes locked. I was momentarily lost in the stormy blue of his gaze—they complemented his skin tone in the best way.
It had been decades since I'd been touched. And I could've changed that right here with this dangerously hot stranger. But instead…
I grabbed his finger and twisted it. Hard. He yelped.
"This body is a weapon, Omari. Not a toy. Get dressed. We're leaving."
I turned on my heel and headed for the door.
"You're no fun!" he shouted after me.
"Yeah, yeah," I replied, slamming the door behind me.
—
A few minutes later, we were cruising down the hill in Omari's old truck, heading for the city.
"Hope I still remember how to get us there," Omari said, eyes on the winding, bumpy road.
I wasn't really listening. My mind was laser-focused on the mission. We had to get started ASAP.
Today, we'd explore this new world and blend in as much as we could. Tomorrow? We'd begin phase one: sending those bastards to hell. One by one. In the worst ways imaginable.
About an hour in, the trees began to thin and the buildings came into view. We drove in silence until we hit the busy roads.
"Our first stop should be the bank. We need a credit card. But we don't have any identities here. How do we get one?" he asked as the light turned red.
I gave him a slight dirty look. Has he always been this dumb?
"Leave that to me," I said, smirking.
Omari gave me a suspicious glance, then turned back to the road as the light turned green.
We parked in front of the first bank we saw and stepped out. I was draped in a massive brown suit—the only half-decent outfit we could salvage from his closet. Omari wore a tank top and loose pants. Stylish, huh?
Still, everyone was staring at us.
At first, I thought it was the clothes. But no. It was the aura. They were intimidated.
I smirked.
We walked up to the counter where a petite, anxious-looking woman greeted us.
"G–good morning. How may I help you?" she asked, clearly flustered.
"We'd like to apply for a credit card," I said smoothly, hiding my amusement.
"Uh—yes! Of course. Right away." She scrambled for the right documents, flinching like she expected a slap from thin air.
I was enjoying every bit of this.
I couldn't say the same for the man beside me. He just stood there, arms folded like the damn statue of David.
"Here you go," the woman said, handing us the form. "Just fill these out. Let me know if you need anything—a seat, a drink, a snack…"
"We're good. Thanks." I took the form and looked it over. I couldn't help wondering—was this just hospitality? Or… aura privilege?
From the corner, I heard the other employees whispering, clearly wondering who we were and where the hell we came from.
I filled out the form as Omari Voss, using what details I knew.
He was never declared dead. So to the law, he was still very much alive.
I handed it to him.
"This was your big plan?" he whispered. "Use my identity?"
"You were never legally dead. Now shut up, fill in your social security number, and let's get out of here."
He rolled his eyes and scribbled down the rest.
We returned the form.
"Perfect," the woman said, checking the details. "The card will be delivered to the address in five days."
Five days?
Omari leaned close. "That address is my family's old house. They're all dead. The house is still in my name, but it's really far. It'd take us all day to even get there."
Five days was too long. We needed money now. I needed to make a move soon, send a soul to hell and buy Lucifer's favor.
I leaned in. "When the card's ready, leave it here. We'll come pick it up. But right now, we're in need of money. And this goofball broke mine," I added, pointing at Omari.
I stepped closer to the cashier and locked eyes with her. My lashes fluttered. My eyes began to faintly glow.
The cashier froze, locked in a trance.
"Is there any alternative we could use in the meantime?" I asked, blinking again to break the spell gently.
She snapped out of it and nodded. "There is. You can use mine."
She pulled two credit cards from her purse and handed them to me like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Use them till yours is ready. I've got a great credit score. Should serve you fine."
I took them, blew her a kiss, and strutted out of the bank, Omari trailing behind.
"What the hell just happened?" he asked as soon as we got back in the truck. "What did you do to her?"
"Jeez, love. One question at a time," I said, grinning. "Did you really think I'd pull off this mission without a few powers to help me out?"
"You've got powers? Now that's unfair!" he whined.
"Quit whining like a banshee and drive," I said, admiring the cards in my hand. "In case you haven't noticed, we're the only ones in this city driving something from the Stone Age. Let's change that. Clothes too—I wanna know what's in fashion now. And I'm starving."
Omari gave me a long, weird look before starting the engine. "Fine. Tonight, we explore. Tomorrow, we hunt."
"Clock that."