Dangerous Love

CHAPTER 1 (New York's Gloom)

‡Quinn ‡

I yawned as I crossed the pedestrian street of Brooklyn stretching up my numbing limbs, my hands buried into my jacket's pocket tugging my duffel bag and tried to locate my new place.

I made it through the night sleeping in the midnight train express. I almost made a back and forth trip from 125 st. all the way to Utica Avenue. I just got here in New York from Las Vegas a few hours ago. I was so dead tired, I fell asleep in the train, I didn't have a decent hour sleep on the plane. When I got out from La Guardia, it was twelve midnight. I checked my watch, it was nine in the morning. Wow! That's a total eight hours.

I checked my surrounding. The blinking signage of local bistro and the early sun blinding and burning my tired, sleepy eyes. I should have bought a pair of shades. I paused in the corner street looking for something familiar or hint for my next destination. Apparently, I'm heading out to my new address. It's been a while since I've been here. When was the last time again?

Four years? Five or just a month? We went to many places since when I was so damn young. Honestly, I was born in Bellevue, Washington, then my mom returned to her hometown in Cincinnati. When I was four, we went to Seattle where my dad's grandparents lived. Then when I was twelve, we got here for the first time when uncle was assigned here then we went back to Washington where it all happened. I sighed.

I don't want to linger anymore from the things that making me sad. So, it's been six years then. I pulled out a map from the chest pocket of my jacket. I squinted at the already torn up, recently dried up map. I was not very careful, I spilled my coffee on it when I was hurrying to get on the airport bus. The sudden downpour in the middle of the midnight was also to blame, I have nothing to put on my head so I used it. Now, looked at this. Although it was made in glossy material, it still don't have guarantee that it was not tearable. I tried to read the signs and the streets then I roamed my eyes. Oh s**t! Looks like I'm getting lost.

I sighed depressingly and loosened few buttons of my shirt, already exposing my skin. The midnight rain dampened the streets making it slimy, wet and humid. The heavy, warm air of summer came to me like a deathblow making me perspire even more. Then I checked myself. Smelling underneath my khaki cargo jacket was my one day old button down red and black chequered shirt paired with faded distress jeans. f**k, I need a shower.

Yeah, I looked like a local gypsy on the street carrying only my belongings in one single body duffel bag. I looked pretty messed up with my disheveled auburn hair, crumpled top to my smelly boots of which, I bought in a thrift shop back in Vegas. Yup, I'm pretty much like a street beggar with a terrible hang over of last night drinking spree collectively with a pair of eye bags, dry throat and morning breath. Yuck! I have to freshen up. If someone in the team or if I happen to run into my Uncle, he will surely not recognize me.

He always see me immaculately clean and polish. I was always in clean white shirt, pleated skirts with glasses. I was prim back then and my usual wear was preppy clothes, French braid and sleek black rimmed glasses. Right, I'm kinda nerd but huh, that was before. Ever since I started this journey, I begun to change my personality. I need to, because my job required me. I was obliged to manifest and wore characters that will fit on my every assignment. I have to forget my old self so that I can fit in to the group. I have to forget my dreams of becoming a scientist. I have to forget my old life. I have to forget that I have a life to return to. Yes, I chose to be like this and I'm not regretting it. At least, not for now.

And even if I met him today, he really won't recognize me. The last time he saw me, my hair was still blonde. I recently dyed it in dark red brown so that it will generally erased the trace of Quinn Anderson. The old me. When I started this masquerade of deceit and joined this black parade, I told myself that I will not stop until I find the killer of my mom and my brother. I have to avenge their untimely departure in this world. They don't deserve to die just like that. I'm determine to bring justice to their unacceptable death.

I gazed above the velvet blue sky. The month of June in New York is erratic when it comes to weather. Its unpredictability and harsh streets were the few things I hate about this place but it's way different if you compare Vegas heatwave. At least here, it was warm and damp unlike in Vegas in this peak season, it's unrelentingly scorching. I'm still adopting to the climate and the new environment but that's easy for me. Learning the transition is my best expertise and familiarizing the place whether highly innovative city of this States or the dirty street hoods of Brooklyn, I can manage.

This will not be an issue for me. I'm just like a sponge that easily absorb anything. As in everything. Information, daily routine, familiar nuances, religious mannerisms, anything. I can squeeze myself in no matter how shallow or complicated things it may be. It was one of my special skills actually.

"Right," I muttered as I landed on the local street going into a public market. Break it down girl. If you are in Brooklyn, you have to look first in wet and dry market. Cheap places and apartment are always close by.

So I went to my initial plan, tugging my worn out and saggy duffel bag on my side, tucked the map back to my pocket and continued my idle walk. As I do so, I tried to memorize the avenues, boulevards and connected alleys while walking. It become my force of habit when I'm dealing this kind of situation and part of my intense training back in the camp. As an efficient spy, you have to study, familiarize and learn to adopt your environment in order to survive the field work not only to pass the survival course exercises, but also to prepare the real life danger that involves in our job.

And now that I was not on my comfort zone, I can tell that I managed to survive a life outside the camp, though the hazards and threats are real, knowing it is a real scenario and I am the only key player. It's not a joke, this is not a simple chest game anymore.

I asked for some directions from the street vendors, passed few alleys and avoided street thugs littering the gutter. New face, new pick. I can't afford to be pick and start rumble here, I have to stay on low profile as possible. No fights, no argument no reason to deal with the cops. If I got caught by the local police and unmask me, no further explanation, for sure I will be back in Quantum center again.

I spotted a tenement building from my side. The old lady said there was an apartment near this area. I spied every building on sight in the residential area. The whole avenue was filled with apartments but only few among them have a space for me. I walked door to door doing inquiries for my stay. Unfortunately, I found no available slot for me that fit on my budget. So I ended up in downtown depressed area, the most squalid and terrible place if you ask me. If you can imagine one scene in Walking dead minus the walkers, the one with many abandoned cars, few scattered dried leaves in the gutter, strayed dogs and cat on the trash bin seeking for food and street beggars on the sidewalk. It could pass as another spot location for the series.

I furtively walked watching my back and roamed the place at my best vantage point. Unfortunately, there was no good in this place I can subject equivalent to the word home. Oh well, as if I have a choice.

I ended up in a red bricked building, worn out paint almost peeling out, sagging waterspout, wrought iron grilled balcony with fire exit ladder obviously eaten by rust. The old white, now ashen steps sodded with dirt, fallen dried leaves with posted porch having few missing hand rail grills. The once plant bars which now covered with filthy spit of phlegm, filters of cigarettes, broken empty glass of beer, and few chewed gums.

It made me cringe my nose. Is this the place that Ziggy provide for me? One of the best crash pad he can give me?

"Nice one," I said under my breath.

I searched for reassuring hint; post mail, apartment number or name of the streets. 378 street corner to 379 street, Cunningham apartelle with rusty signboard hanging on the upper wall on the left side, with window that has broken windowpane brutally struck by solid object, stone perhaps that remedied by puny woods hammered and vandalized by obscene graffiti.

It was bared and very open. Few opened windows with the same state, others falling off from its hinge. The eerie silent and the suspended air made me think I'm in a horror flick or something. With ridiculous Gothic piano playing in the background. Sorry, that was just my imagination.

This could be the place, unlikely to my expected imagination. I got the right address and since I have no other place to go, I have to at least try.

"Okay Quinn, here we go." I circled to the main entrance, rapped gently on the dark oak door. No one answered me. I tried the door knob, surprisingly, it opened.

So I went inside, to the darken and filthy lobby. I peered on the front desk counter behind the grills with a single chair and looked for someone. I rung the bell and waited. When no one answered, I rung it again.

"Hello, is anybody here?" I said peaking again to the heavily tinted panel glass of the nearest room, completed with bars and grills. The doorman's quarter I guessed.

"Hello, anybody home?" I was getting a second thought and decided to walk out when I spotted an old lady carrying pot in her hand from a dark archway.

"Stop yelling around, you're disturbing the other tenant." She said waspishly.

"I'm sorry, there's nobody answering me. I need a room, is there any available in this building?" I inquired, momentarily glancing over my back and the surrounding.

Meanwhile, the lady scanned her eyes, scrutinizing me from head to toe. "Are you sure you can pay the bills?"

"I have money, don't worry." I snapped. Giving her my equal tone.

I don't want to have issue specially with elderly. Not because they are old and always need to be respected, it's just not worth of my time to deal with them knowing their senile sickness.

She was still unconvinced and hesitant. "Come with me, I'll show you around." She put down the pot in the nearest side table.

My eyes almost adjusted in the dark suddenly blinded me when she turned the lights on. I have to blink my eyes and rubbed it gently. She led me to the hallway then to the left corner heading to the stairwell. I was surprised again by the scene that greeted me as we got through flight of stairs of the building. Well, it was common sight for me anyway, I got used to it. Three drunk men littered the hallway spreading their lethargic, stoned bodies blocking our way. Empty bottles, butt of cigarettes, chips on the floor and stinky, vile fume of thrown ups sifting in the air. Like what the hell!

"Damn it! You f**k up again!" The old lady barked slapping the one with hooded jacket full on the face. The hard slap reverted in the hollow, silent and smelly hall.

However, the guy gave a pathetic, sluggish look then went back to his sleep.

"Damn you Kevin, you gave me no good. You clean this s**t up you hear me! You should help me instead of causing me more trouble you son of a b***h. I should have thought you will end up like this, I shouldn't let you live, I shouldn't be suffering right now!!!" She ranted while hitting him with a stick she found at the foot the drunken men.

"Ouch! Ouch! Stop it granny! Ouch! That hurts, stop!" The guy shouted, shielding and trying to escape the angry attack of the old lady.

Me, I was still there. Standing and waiting for her to notice my discomfort. After a short while, she managed to sweep them up making them move their butt out of our way. We proceeded, while giving orders to her grandson and his pals to clean the place with tons of profanities and heavy dressing down. We were apparently at third floor, where the entire floor was fully occupied until we reached the seventh floor, the only available, the most decent and bearable space with the best price.

"Here we are." She unlocked the door and opened it wider. Getting inside in the third row door from the left, near the fire exits.

"There's the living area, the kitchen and the bathroom." She gestured her hand showing me the interior.

There wasn't much change from the last place I'd stayed in. Only much filthier and messier. It was furnished, Thank God. With worn out furniture, aged tv set, a granny old gas range with rusty and dirty exhaust fan, coffeemaker sat on the Formica counter with stained old grease. The bathroom however was small, broken tiles in blue and white, dirty shower curtain, broken glass window pane with ridiculous scotch tape to keep them into place. The shower has no hot faucet. But there was a tub stained with old used bubble bath soap. Slimy and grimy with sticking molds. Imagine that.

"The shower still works. Hot water is not available. The furnace's broken. You see, it's furnished with essentials, if you have the cash, I can do something about the heater. Well, it's still hot season so cold shower could be good. Are you taking it?" She spoke while I inspected the place.

She still had her immovable frown and the stare. That incriminating stare that I endured the entire tour.

I sighed. I can't afford a hotel. I only have limited budget and I have to stay here at least until I find out the current business of Cachella and bust them out. So clearly, I have no other choice. God! This cycle must stop. "Alright." I pulled my bag searching for my wallet. "How much is this?"

"2,500 dollars for the rent, electric, water internet bills and monthly dues still not included."

I glanced back at her in disbelief. "2.5k?"

"Yes, if you don't like the price, you can look for somewhere else." She said flatly with a scornful huff not even looking at me.

"So what's the total over-all?" I fished out the green papers already agreeing with the price. Damn, it's not even considered a decent pad much like a dumpster.

"Give me 3,500 dollars and you're good." Finally alerted as I counted the bills right in front of her.

"I'll pay you two months advance and one month deposit. Fix the heater and clean this place. You're doing room services?"

"Ah yes! Yes, we can accommodate your need. I will call someone to fix the heater and clean this room right away."

"Okay, how much again?"

"Just give me 14k, I'll handle the whole process." She was eager to get her hands on my money.

I tried not to shake my head. Ten thousand five hundred dollars for the two months rent and deposit, breaking it down to another three thousand five hundred. I wonder if she will do an efficient job satisfying my comfort.

I held out the cash. "Are we going to fill up some form?"

"Nay, it's just a waste of time." She said.

I looked at her suspiciously and pulled out my hand with cash when she was about to take the cash from my hand.

"I mean, sure! I'll get the papers back to my office. I'm just kidding." She tittered a laugh while her expecting hand held out.

Just make sure old hag.

I handed it, she counted it twice then gave a sycophantic smile. Handful cashes on her hand depositing it inside her apron. Her crooked smile and her eyes glistening for money are clear indication that she's a swindler. Just don't try to mess with me old lady. You will see what this chick is made of.

"It is nice meeting you Miss.."

"Hailey, Hailey Danvers." I offered a brief handshake.

"Miss Danvers. Mathilde Browning." She introduced. "Enjoy your stay here, Miss Danvers. If you need something, you can ring my number it's written in the nightstand." She pointed at the bed side table with cordless phone resting on it and a small bulletin board hanging above it.

"Okay, when will the cleaners arrive?"

"Just in a bit. I'll call on Kevin."

"You mean your grandson? I think he's not in the good state to do some cleaning job." I said flatly.

He can't even stand straight earlier.

"I'll call other staff. No worries." She fumbled and went to the door, clearly hurrying to avoid more question.

"If they came, let me know. I'll be heading out, just need to take a shower. Do you have available shampoo and soap?"

"Yes! I have it wait here, I'll get it for you."

I didn't feel she was going to go back anytime soon so I dumped my bag on the kneaded sofa. I slumped on it propping my feet up on the center table. I did another 360 degree, dramatic roaming eyes. God this place is hopeless.

I sniffed and my eyes glued on my boots. Damn, I don't know what's even worse, smelly feet or smelly crash pad. Sadly, I have them both.

I started to unlace my boot one at a time. I automatically cringed my nose. "Try to remember Quinn not to wear boots with wet feet." I uttered to myself.

I dumped it somewhere carelessly. Then I pulled out my socks, oh! Good Heaven, I smell blue cheese inside it.

I threw it away then I curled my toe fingers letting it breathe for a while. Then I started to peel off my jacket. I searched for a hanger but found none so I laid it at the back of the nearest chair. I checked my watch. Already ten forty five.

Need to visit the base. I have to get some devices, gadgets and some extra clothes. I have to find resources to keep up at least four months here. I have to find a racket. A milk producing money type of job. I have already in mind. Need to see Nigel. I must see him today and find me a spot in one of the bars around here. I'm sure I'll hit two birds in one stone if I choose that working place.

Right, keep calm and play it wisely Quinn. You don't need to get dirty, just show them what you got.

I placed my hands on my hips. Determined with my plan over my head, I went to the door setting its lock then started to strip down. I have to start it off, I don't have much time to waste. But first, I really really need a shower.

***********

After a numbing cold bath, I put a black rock band shirt on with intricate cuts back details, blue fitted jeans and donned my leather jacket. I replaced my footwear into a comfy slim, feather weight Sketchers. Good thing I brought one pair of extra shoes. I combed my wet hair in front of the mirror checking myself. Put some bling on, black leather choker with strands of silver necklace. A pair of big hoops dangling and done some smouldering smokey eye shadow. I was putting my lipstick when I heard a knock.

I hurriedly finished my look before I opened it and found a woman in mid thirties.

"Hello, I'm Becky, you call for a clean service."

I opened it wider to let her in. "Please come in."

"You're alone?"

"Please make it more presentable and bearable." I said, not answering her question. Turning back and heaped my dirty clothes.

"Oh, you must be a college student. Are you enrolled in one of universities around Brooklyn? Or maybe in New York."

I didn't bother to answer that. I have no time for silly chat, specially towards stranger.

"I will be going, I'll leave my doors open meaning I'm leaving this room to you." I fished out a fifty dollar bill from my wallet. "Keep the change." Then I put my shoulder bag on a sling. Heading out to the door.

I jogged towards the stairwell then found Mathilde's office. "I believe you have the forms ready?" I knocked on the tinted glass.

The startled old lady looked up, she was about to yell at me but seeing how I paid generously, she turned into a Cheshire smile. She knows the monkey business so damn well.

"I'm just about to call you, here it is." She handed it over. Slipping it into the hole.

I took it, folded and tucked it inside my bag. "One thing, just don't mess on this term of condition contract. I can call my lawyer in no time if you try to screw it up. I have plenty of contacts Mrs. Mathilde." I warned giving her my signature smile.

She was aghast and perplexed.

I walked out like a rock star. I'm so good at that part. No one dare to screw this Queen without a hell of a fight.

I reached the pocket of my jeans for phone. "Nigel, We need to talk."

After two hours bus ride to downtown east of Harlem, I went to the address where my contact, Nigel told me over the phone.

I looked around searching for the establishment named 'The Cat's paw'. I asked around, leading me to an avenue right to the 114th street. I was actually thinking it was a pet salon or a vet specialized for feline. But when I saw the place, my jaw dramatically dropped. It was a gay bar. What the f**k!

No wonder, every people I asked, looked at me like some kind of a weirdo or just stared with matching arched brow. Someone even asked me if I'm gay. Which I snapped in quickly. That figures.

I begun to walk over crossing a short distance from the local diner. There was a nearest pool and billiards on the side and ahead was another bar, night club and ktv bar.

I pushed the glass door making an easy sneak in since there was no security personnel in front door. As I was making my entrance, everyone drew their eyes on me. Making me feel like a freaky-ish thing that walks on earth. I pushed aside their curious stares and loud murmurs as I passed them. Heading to the bar to ask for my friend.

"Hola, Frida is here?" I said to the muscle man with ridiculous black curly hair (which I presume a wig) and dark lipstick.

"Hola, buenas tardes, margarita. Why are you looking for Frida?" He or she, asked in his or her undertone, setting aside the table napkin and the wineglass he or she was wiping on.

"Just call her for me, I'm a friend from Seattle with love." I said. Giving that ridiculous pick up line. Nigel used that to vouch that I was connected to him.

"Hmm, wait a sec Bonita. I'll see if she's here." And winked her thick double layers eyelashes. She was a big girl with big, beefy muscle. Damn, I could mistaken her as a bouncer.

She went out behind the bar and disappeared in a small room. Meanwhile, three more gays walked on my direction, poking if I'm real.

"Hey, you up?"

"No," I perplexedly said and eyed them. They were dressed in tailored clothes, clear cut hair but underneath, I know they're gay. Why would they go and be here in the first place.

"Where did you b-j that? Recommend me your doctor." The one with platinum white hair asked pointing on my boobs.

"I'm sorry?" I was arching my brow, pretty much offended.

"It looks natural. Tell me who did that, I might go and have myself a surgery." The black haired, mid twenties guy blurted, he looks like Mario Lopez minus the twin dimples.

I was aghast, in clear surprise and huge insult. Do I look like a gay person?!

"No, I'm straight." I said firmly. Reining my horses. These people are Nigel's friends.

"And this is natural because it's my real boobs, you can touch it if you want." I opened my jacket, bracing them my thin band shirt which I ripped off the sleeves and has a low neckline.

"Oh! I thought you're transgender." They exclaimed and laughed out loud.

"Sorry dear. We really thought you're one of us. Frida don't even tell us she have a girl friend––straight friend. We just knew he associates only with gays, lesbians, queer and transgender. We don't know she also have friend outside that circle." The mahogany haired guy explained, suppressing his laugh. "BTW, Vera." He held out his hand. He looked like Cher with that big, plump lower lip, high puffy cheekbones and big droopy blue eyes.

"This is CJ and Fran." He mentioned the two others.

"Hi. Call me Charmel," the platinum blonde haired spoke shaking my hand after Vera.

"Fran. Don't get me wrong, you look gorgeous honey. What's your name?"

"Hailey," I muttered laconically.

"Do you want anything? Drinks?" Fran offered and snapped her fingers adorned with colorful nail arts. A thin guy with funny bunny costume materialized, nodding his head.

"Bring lemonade and see if we have something to offer to our guest. How's Chicken Pesto works for you?" Charmel suggested.

"No, I'm good."

"How old are you? Minor? Do you drink?" Mario Lopez look alike asked. He sat right beside me while Vera chose to sit on my left. Charmel manned the bar, which made him stood across me. Something tells me, they owned the bar or have some shares as co-partners.

"I'm eighteen. Just turned eighteen this May."

"Oh! Early bloomer." Fran and Charmel crowed.

"You knew Frida for how long?"

"Ahm, a long time ago." I said, suddenly I became uncomfortable. I sipped on lemonade just as it came.

"You already have s*x?"

I almost spill the drinks and choked off with that personal question. I coughed roughly and trying to suppress it.

"You okay?"

I gave my hand saying I'm alright, delaying the question as far as I could. I put down the drinks.

"So, Hailey, did you already surrender your v-card?" Fran prodded seeing my discomfort to the topic.

"I'm afraid that's very personal, Fran."

I heard Nigel's voice behind us. I glanced over my shoulder. The three crowed once again. More louder with their shrilly voice.

"You never told us, Frida." Vera begun.

"Are you two relatives? Where did you meet her?" Fran questioned eagerly.

"She has future, is she going to work for you?" Charmel added.

Nigel waved his hand shutting them down. "Can I have her alone? I'll talk to you guys later." Then pulled my hand, tagging me along with him. He led me to a private room, a single lounge seat, table and flat screen. I guessed it's a ktv room.

"So what's bring you here, darling?" He started with his fluid and smoothed voice. He went over the bar and made me a drink. Martini, I surmised.

"I need help, I need a job asap." I spoke while my eyes were everywhere.

He laughed in dulcet. God, he's good in falsetto. "What kind of job? The last time I'd check, you're doing private practice." He returned and urged me to sit on the soft leather sofa then joined me with his own glass of martini.

"Things got f**k up. By the way, are they always been like that?"

I took the drink he offered as we were apparently sitting and he was beside me. He wore his favorite barb. Black leather with so many metal stud spike, padded shoulder, underneath was a white-tee with a face of iconic super star, Bon Jovi or John Lennon. Well, he's into rock icon. Skin tight leather paneled jeans and vava voom ankle boots adorned with ankle blings. It was two inches but considering his height, he stands 6 foot making him 6 and two. He's a drag queen day and night. Today, he was just on his dress down. His show starts eight up to midnight. He sings too, very well. His face, well, he is handsome if he's straight more even fabulous when he turn diva. Imagine Matt Bomer, and Kim Kardashian in between.

"Don't mind them darling. They just like to poke someone, you know. Gay thing."

"Sounds like paparazzi to me."

"That don't answer my question, why you're here?"

"I told you, I need a job. Do you know where I can get one?" I sipped on it and slightly surprise. He made me a dry martini.

He eyed me searchingly and ridiculously skimmed over my face.

"Oh please! I'm serious." I cut from the stares, apparently, he was smiling and shaking his head.

"The last time I get you hired, my client was rushed in the nearest hospital. Not only that, they banned me for your misconduct. Lost my gig in Vegas and they even arrested you if I didn't come. Now, is there any good reason why I should help you jeopardize my name? I can't bail you out again just like the last time."

I rolled my eyes. Alright! I screw him up few times and he bailed me out a couple of times before. That sucks but I have no one else to run and can help me but him, his huge and stellar connection.

"Okay, I admit. I f**k up a hundred times alright. Sorry, just one last time, I promise I'll be good. I will not let you suffer again with the backfire, please.." I begged grabbing his hand that bigger than mine.

He sighed. "If you're not Ben's niece, I would not be this nice to you." Then he put his empty glass down the table. "Okay, so what kind of job are you up to? Waitress, guest related officer, floor staff..."

"Stripper. I need a place near Midtown, or maybe in Soho. Downtown,"

He was flabbergasted, with dramatic gape and dilated pupils. "ARE YOU f*****g KIDDING ME?! NO WAY!"

I rolled my eyes again, trying to calm him down. "Hey, it's not what you think––"

"REALLY! HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M THINKING?! I'LL GET MYSELF KILLED IF I DO THAT, YOUNG LADY!"

I sighed, knowing him and my uncle, he would definitely object it. But there's no other option left. I have to convince him that I'm not going to put myself in danger if I couldn't manage to escape it. I'm good in getting out from the sticky situation. I'm a talented con artist.

"Listen, I'm not going to actually strip if that's worry you. I just need an access to one of the best nightclub here. It will be just my disguise." I explained.

He stared at me more confused. "Is this connected to your subject assignment again?" Now he figured it out.

Oh hell! It's even more harder to convince him.

He rose to his feet but I stopped him, snatching his arm. "Please listen, I just have to do this." I put down my drinks and stood, persuading him.

"No! I'm not going to help. I will not be responsible for your another trouble again." He was adamant when he said that. Shoving my hand off him.

"Okay then, I could not use some help from you, fine! I'll go straight to one of the club in downtown, maybe you could just give me some of the names, I'll deal with that myself." I said waspishly, vindicating my every words.

"Why on the freaking earth would you like to put yourself in freaking mess, Quinn? You should enjoy your life and your youth instead. Leave the job to your uncle or..to your dad, listen honey, I know why you're doing this but, this is not your life, this is not your job. Honey, you're just dragging yourself in a huge trouble." He sounded more calm now and f*****g preaching.

He sighed and grabbed my hand. "I know it still hurt to face the truth that they were gone. But, life don't stop there. You need to move on with your life. Quinn, I know you as a kid, I even treat you as my own daughter." He wanly smiled and tugged my hand. "I don't want to happen anything bad upon you."

I gently tugged off my hand. "Thanks for your concern, Nigel. But for now, all I need is someone who can understand me and someone who can watch my back. I don't have time for this." I circled from the sofa, walking out.

So, it's me against the world. I should fend myself out from now on.

"Wait, Quinn." He called out.

I paused, turning around, he was at my back in matter of seconds. "I know a place. You just need to fill up some form."

"Really?" I was a little delighted.

"Please, just don't screw this up okay."

I smiled, finally relief. "Promise!"

He shook his head, with his sleek braid hairdo swayed on his shoulder. From the last time I saw him, he wore his hair short. Probably extension. "You'll get me in trouble if your uncle will learn about this."

"He will never know."

"He shouldn't be, he will strangle me to death if he finds out. Or more worst, shoot me."

I laughed, remembering the relationship of my uncle and him. "He will never date you again."

"Oh shut up, he didn't even like me." Smiling to himself.

He have a huge crush on him. He actually tried to mingle with him. Nigel and my uncle were actually high school best friends, even both entered the same college. It's just that, Ben don't date gay people more like he don't mingle with his friend. A total old prick and old fashion guy.

"He only date straight, I already accepted that." He finally said feeling a little jaded.

"You will find someone better." I consoled him patting his shoulder.

"Stop that! I know I'm deadly gorgeous honey, no need for your lip service." He said. "How do you like your steak?" Putting his arm on my shoulder.

"How about we talk about my job first? Where are you going to take me?"

He looked down on me and smile. "Is escort service appealing to you?"

I momentarily thought of that, but since he was going to help, I nodded absently. "Great, where I'll be working then?"

†††††

After a hearty meal and few catch up chat, we went to our next destination. We took a cab to take us to lower east side. Then we entered a cafe and ordered ourselves chai latte, and milk shake.

"Who do we have to meet here?" I asked when the waiter put our orders down and took his leave.

"Your handler. You need to impress her, she's quite hard to please." He took his time on his milkshake.

"Sure, as if there's someone who can resist me."

"I have faith in your confidence but sometimes, you have to bend down to stay up in this world." He slurped his drink.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll understand me when you meet her."

I shrugged that off and turned my attention to my latte.

After fifteen minutes, a guy walked in the cafe with an entourage of girls in glittery outfits. Everyone eyed them as they walked in.

"Are they the one?" I pointed at them.

Nigel glanced at them. "Finally." He stood and greeted the guy. He wore a white suit, thick strands of gold on his neck with big fat bling of initial letters B and W. He was tall too, about 5'11 or six flat. His hair dyed in bleach gold. He waved his hand giving orders to the girls to take their seats. They chose to sit around us.

He gave me a side long glance, he even took off his purple shades. "Is she the one?"

"Yes, she's––"

"Hailey, Hailey Danvers." I introduced myself, giving my hand.

He arched his well-contour brow. He passed me and took his seat next to Nigel's instead.

I looked at Nigel and tilted my head on the other side. Nigel just shrugged and took his seat next to him.

"So, you know how to pleasure men?" He asked straightforwardly.

I was taken by surprise by that making me opened my mouth but chose to close it shut. "I'm good with charming them."

"Oh dear, that's not enough." He gave me a nonchalant stare. "I need more than that. My clients are all big time. Some even, politicians." He pulled out a cigar case and lifted one to his lips. "How will I sell you if you're not that valuable?" He lit it up and blew the thin white smoke.

I was heaving my breath. The nerve of this freak! I'm just trying to control myself. "Well, I can learn very fast. I know how to deal with that, and I've been with boys––"

He eyed me with faint interest and grabbed my chin. Checking on my face. "Hmm, you're pretty and have the body." Then his eyes went down to my boobs.

I tried not to pull back because I wouldn't get his interest if I will not impress him. "I can take off my top if you want?"

"No, no, no. Not here," he pulled back, waving for Nigel to lean. He whispered something on him. Nigel smiled and winked at me.

"So, am I in or what?" I asked after their private conversation.

"Frida will tell you the detail. Here's my card. I have to go, I have other appointment." He rose to his seat, giving me one last look. "Hope to see you again, Hailey." Then he left quickly with his girls in tow.

"What the hell! Who is that?" I asked with my impending salvo on my throat.

"It's in the card." Nigel gestured to the card in my hand.

I inspected the black card with intricate stencil and embossed gold letters. It reads Black Widow.

"Are you seriously saying this is his name?"

"She's a drag queen and she only answer to her stage name, keeping her name for confidentiality purpose. Consider yourself lucky, she gave you her calling card in just one meeting. She rarely do that. Most of the girls persuade and beg for her just to flock them up. She handles many talents and own a promotion agency. Models, actresses, singers, dancers but mostly, she run an escort service business. Most of them, well,"

"She's a pimp."

"Yes, but she don't force them. It's up to you if you'll accept the terms. She also don't take minors and inexperience. You can see how she criticized you." He sipped his already half milkshake.

"So, what did he say?"

"She will try you. She like your face, looks so innocent and pure."

"Well, I am still––"

"Sshh hush. I didn't tell her that you're still chaste. She will never show up if I told her."

"Oh--okay," that surprised me. "When will I start?"

Nigel gave me the look. "Are you that eager to get laid?"

"Nigel!" I exclaimed.

He just smirked. "She said she will handle a big party for this coming weekend. She wants you to be there. I guess that's the day you'll start." Then seriously looked at me. "Please, just keep yourself from trouble. I know you enough, I know that you can handle yourself. Just, always keep safe, Quinn." Then grabbed my hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

I smiled for his genuine concern. "I'll be just fine."

"Before anything else, what's the story behind Hailey Danvers?"

"Oh, that.." I sighed. "Precautionary measure." I released my hand and took the last drop of my drink.

"Spy thing?"

"Yes."

"Why Hailey? And Danvers? You gotta be kidding me." He arched his brow. "That's Ben's surname."

"I know right," I sighed once again. "I miss him."

"That's easy, just go back to Seattle, he surely will forgive you. And you can go back to your school, to your gable house and your life."

"That's not that easy." I checked my phone. I have four missed call from Ziggy.

"Who's that? You're boyfriend?" He noticed me.

"You have no idea, Nigel." I rose to my seat. "I have to use the restroom."

"Okay,"

I walked towards the restroom. I assured first if nobody in there. When it was clear, I called him back. "You got something for me?" I chose to get inside the cubicle.

"Yeah, found some of their activities these past four months. They were sighted in Toulouse, France and London associating with some known personalities. You will be surprise who."

"Spit it out, Zig."

"Duchiri and Pietriv."

"You mean the Duchiri Brothers and Pietriv the mad scientist?"

"Uh huh,"

"What could be their ploy this time?"

"Dunno, but knowing them, it's surely something sinister."

"Anything else?" I checked from the adjacent if there was somebody who came inside the restroom.

"As of now, few unrelated data. About the Project Nero, I retrieved some info concerning to the project. I'll send you the details. It seems a huge and costly project if you ask me."

"Okay thanks Zig."

"By the way, did you arrive safe in New York?"

"Yeah, about the pad, it's very wholesome."

I heard his hard laugh. "I hope you like the view. I just read that online. I just knew you will choose it rather than the hotel. Too expensive for a stow away like you. Oh! Speaking of which, how's New York? Found new job? If you don't mind me asking, why stripper?"

I rolled my eyes. "Duh, if you're here in a very expensive, industrial and highly productive city, what job could an eighteen years old get without a diploma? And ideally speaking, where do men usually go after a hard, tiring work or after closing an important deal?"

"Home, to his kids and his wife."

"If he's just a simple employee yes, but it's different if he's the boss."

"Oh! So you're targeting much bigger fish! I get it."

"Exactly, I'm trying to get information from the boss or any related people linked to the project. I need to know their background and if I have a luck, get inside the building of their company. Send me also some brief info about the people associated with Project Nero so I can crack down the options and possibility of infiltration."

"Affirmative Cooper, consider it done."

"Over and out."

I went out the restroom in discreet, precise awareness and found Nigel waiting for me outside the cafe with a cigarette in his hand. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry, someone called." I held out my hand. He gave me a hesitating look but handed me one stick.

"Where are you going after this?"

"Actually, I have to go. I have to meet someone, would you mind if I just go ahead?"

"Do you know your way?"

"Yes, If you don't remember, we actually lived here for six long months. I can manage Nigel."

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Found a nice place in Brooklyn. It's just small apartment." I answered honestly as I lit my stick.

"Do you have enough money?" He was pulling out his wallet.

"No, Nigel I'm cool. I still have money, don't worry. It can last at least for a month."

"You sure?"

"Yes. But thanks," I smiled.

He looked at me seriously and patted my shoulder. "If you need something or something goes wrong, don't hesitate to call me."

"Sure thing Nigel,"

He cracked a smile and hugged me. "Always take care of yourself Quinn, you know that you always have the biggest part in my heart."

"I know, I will be fine."