Treatment 16_Badass in Disguise

Badass in Disguise

 Chapter 16 

 “That was some crazy driving back there,” the Uber driver said, ncing at me in the rearview

 mirror. “Never seen anyone handle an Explorer like that on those trails. You’ve got serious skills.

 I leaned back against the worn seat, my body still humming with adrenaline from the race. “Thanks

 for letting me borrow your car.”

 Heughed. “Worth every scratch to see those rich kids‘ faces! I used to dream about racing when I was younger–had ns to join a rally team. Then life happened.”

 As we approached my neighborhood, something felt off. The streets were too quiet, even for this 

 hour.

 “This is good,” I said, stopping him a block from my house. “I’ll walk from here.”

 He frowned. “You sure? It’s prettyte.”

 “I’m sure.” I handed him a hundred–dor bill and stepped out into the cool night air.

 The moon hung low, illuminating the shabby houses and broken sidewalks. Somewhere in the distance, I caught the faint scent of magnolia blossoms, oddly out of ce in this concrete wastnd.

 As I neared my house, my senses went on high alert. Near our trash cans, I detected the subtle sound of controlled breathing. More concerning was the patch of concrete near our front steps. The earlier rain had washed away the grass clippings I’d used to cover it, revealing faint traces of blood- blood from when Alexander Haxton had escaped through our yard.

 other I approached my front door with keys in hand, maintaining the appearance of an oblivious teenager. I inserted the key but didn’t turn it, instead patting my pockets and muttering, “Shit, forgot my keys.” I turned and walked back down the steps, moving away at a casual pace.

 I wandered through the neighborhood for about thirty minutes, taking random turns to ensure I wasn’t being predictably tracked. Eventually, I reached a small patch of trees at the edge of the development.

 I stepped into the trees and stopped in a small clearing. “You can <be out now,” I said, my voice carrying in the night stillness. “I’m getting tired of this little game.” 

 For a moment, nothing happened. Then the shadows moved. Four figures emerged, dressed in ck 

 ??))

 tactical gear–the same operatives who had been hunting Alexander Haxton.

 “Jade Morgan,” said the leader, his face partially obscured by a tactical mask. “We have some questions for you.”

 I turned slowly to face them. “And you couldn’t just knock on my door like normal people?”

 “What’s your connection to Alexander Haxton?” he demanded.

 I smiled coldly. “Is that what this is about? You’re still upset about losing him?”

 The men exchanged nces, surprised I knew what they were talking about.

 “You helped him escape,” another man said. “We found blood traces leading through your backyard.”

 I examined my nails casually. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I am curious–why are you so interested in Alexander Haxton? Or is it the Haxton family in general?”

 The leader stepped closer. “We need information, and you’re going to provide it.”

 Iughed sharply. “Let me guess–you want to use me as leverage against the Haxtons? Sorry to disappoint, but I barely know Alexander. If I had to choose, I’d probably be more interested in Ethan Haxton. I hear he’s the one with the real power.”

 “You know more than you should,” he said, his hand moving toward his weapon.

 I tilted my head, analyzing their positions. Amateurs trying to look professional. “What exactly do you want from me?”

 “Cooperation. You’lle with us.”

 I sighed dramatically. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 I moved before they could react. A quick strike to the leader’s throat copsed his windpipe instantly. As he fell, I pivoted, sweeping the legs out from under the second man while simultaneously grabbing his knife. The third man managed to draw his gun, but I was already inside his guard, driving the knife under his ribs. The fourth lunged for me, but I sidestepped and drove my hand into the base of his skull with enough force to shatter vertebrae.

 I stood surrounded by bodies, not even breathing hard. The one whose throat I’d crushed was still twitching.

 10 

 I crouched beside him. “Tell your employer something, if you survive: Shadow doesn’t leave

 witnesses.”

 ??))

 Back home, I locked myself in my room and pulled out my encryptedptop. Time to call in a favor.

 I initiated a secure connection through multiple proxy servers, entering aplex authentication sequence that only one person in the world would recognize. After a moment, text appeared on the

 screen.

 [SECURE CONNECTION ESTABLISHED] [IDENTITY VERIFICATION: PENDING…] [SECURITY PROTOCOL ALPHA–7 RECOGNIZED]

 I typed: “Night. It’s me.”

 There was a long pause. Then:

 [UNKNOWN]: Verification code?

 I smiled and typed the response–a sequence we’d created years ago, one that had never be digitally.

 A momentter:

 NIGHT: Holy shit. Shadow? This is impossible. You died on the ind.

 “I was dead,” I typed. “It’splicated. I need your help–cleanup job. Four bodies in the woods.”

 I sent the coordinates.

 NIGHT: Full sanitization?

 “Yes. I can’t be connected to this.”

 NIGHT: Team in Boston can be there in two hours. I’ll handle it personally.

 The encryption key suddenly changed–Night’s way of verifying it was really him. Only we knew this protocol.

 NIGHT: It’s really you, isn’t it? You’re actually alive.

 “In a manner of speaking. We’ll talk soon.”

 d

 80

 6:56 Tue, Sep 16

 My phone pinged with a notification. A bank transfer: $300,000 from Chase Astor. At least the rich boy kept his word about the race winnings.

 80

 By dawn, all evidence of the confrontation was gone. Ipleted my morning run as the sun crested

 the horizon.

 As I approached our front door, Emily stepped out, her expression a mixture of determination and

 disgust.

 “S–sister,” she stammered, the word clearly foreign on her tongue.

 I stopped, genuinely surprised. Emily had never called me that before–it had always been “fatso” or worse. Something was definitely up.

 “What do you want?” I asked coolly.

 and

 Emily fidgeted. I could practically see her thoughts: she had watched me give Max a new i expensive clothes, and now she wanted the same treatment. After years of treating me like garbage, she thought a few nice words would earn her simr gifts.

 “I… I made you breakfast,” she said, holding out a paper bag.

 I walked past her without taking it. “Not hungry.‘

 “Wait!” she reached out, identally stepping into my path. Her foot caught mine, and I nearly stumbled.

 In that instant, muscle memory took over. Before I could stop myself, my hand shot out, grasping Emily’s throat and pinning her against the door frame. The sandwich she’d been holding fell to the ground.

 Her eyes bulged, her face rapidly turning red as she wed ineffectively at my grip. Panic flooded her expression as she struggled to breathe.

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Treatment 16