Chapter 1: Rose
Rose...
One of the only things I like about myself, these days.
My name...
You can look but, if you dare get too close?
You get fucking stung.
Wish I’d come up with that motto sooner.
That way, I could’ve saved myself the trouble that was dating my one and only ex.
You want a piece of advice? Never try to find true love in your workplace.
Especially, if you work for the damn military...
Dishonorably discharged, by the way.
Not even the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.
That’s what I get for standing up for myself.
Those motherfuckers scrambled to find a way for me to not get promoted, like their pathetic, fucking lives depended on it.
Being a woman in a so-called “man’s line of work” was the most convenient of excuses, I guess.
But spreading rumors about me being a whore, who sleeps with anyone that offers was the god damned cherry on top.
Thomas’ revenge for me forcing him to admit how wrong this fucking was. Apparently, manhoods can be hurt by being in the right and yelling about it...
Never knew that.
I snap myself out of my useless pondering and do a final mirror check.
Going from a uniform that’s supposed to camouflage you while hiding in plants, to one dominated by plants, specifically flowers, and makes you stand out was not easy.
Still, I could rock a fucking sundress like the one I had on any day of the fucking week.
It was going from using rifles as weapons to having to rely on a cute smile and a fake tone that messed with my head.
Who am I even trying to fucking convince? Not me, anyway.
Reminding myself of that, I left my apartment behind and a short elevator ride later, burst onto the streets.
Many look, none approach.
Perfect.
I am not gonna pretend I dislike the attention but, meaningless conversations with even more meaningless strangers mean absolutely nothing to me.
Thankfully, I do not have to subject myself to it all for too long.
The coffee shop I am currently employed at is only a couple of blocks away. A temporary solution but one that I’d grown quite fond of.
Again, who am I fucking kidding?
At least the fucking scumbags, selling all sorts of drugs on the streets, do not operate during the day.
They think they’re so smart, too.
Like, people don’t see what the fuck they’re doing?
Wait.
Do they?
Maybe they do and either are too scared to do something.
Maybe they just don’t care enough.
Unlike the fucking police around here though, I do.
I fantasize about putting them in their fucking place for a bit before I try to get back into work mode.
I enjoy the quiet atmosphere of Cup ‘n’ Soul.
Do I?
I only bother the customers to take their order and they return the favor when they want the bill.
Simple. Tolerable.
Is it?
As I open the door, I am greeted by the soft sound of the doorbell accompanied by the knock of the overhead white sign with purple, calligraphy font against the exterior wall.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee isn’t so bad either.
Ok. That I agree with.
You know what? I think I could actually get used to this.
But not that.
“Good morning, Rose.” Josh, the barista, greets me with a smile.
“Mornin’.” I shoot back, still not one hundred percent functional.
Josh picks up on it immediately, hooking me up with my morning dose of liquid energy before I even get the chance to ask.
Bless his soul, Josh is actually one of the good guys. A bright man in all matters, except for one:
Women.
His messy curls give him enough of an unfair advantage. So does being nice in this day and age.
Not against me, though.
At least, he took the rejection better than most would.
“Your coffee M’Lady!” he played as he slid the cup towards me on the bar counter.
“Ugh, thanks!” I let out, in unfiltered satisfaction.
For the first time today, someone understands me and my needs.
“Drink up. You’re gonna need it. Aaron was looking for you.” Josh informs, his tone concealing something I perceived as ominous.
I give him my best impression of a detective fishing for clues.
“You know something I don’t.” I state, matter of fact-ly.
Ok. Now you wanna get all awkward? Not happening.
“Spill it.”
“You’re not gonna like it. Plus, I am not even supposed to know. I overheard.”
“Shoot from the hip, dude. I’m a big girl. I can fucking handle it.”
I simply watch and take a sip as Josh straightens his collar and clears his throat as he looks around us.
Then he leans in.
“I think you might be getting fired...” he whispers.
I’d rather be getting fucking fired at!
“Shit!” an exclaim escapes me.
“Rose... I am so sorry...” Josh reaches across the counter to rub my bicep.
I’ll allow it. As much as I hate being touched for no reason, I know he means well.
My eyes travel to the door behind which lies Aaron’s office for a moment before Josh continues.
“Hey, you know what? I can help you look! The other day I saw Raindrops cafe was hiring-”
“Dude. I am not your fucking pity project.” I bite, glaring at the poor guy.
Josh retreats.
“Where did that even come from?! All I wanted was to fucking help!” he fires back.
Impressive, Josh. You do got some fight in you after all, huh?
“My bad. I’m a bit fucked up.” I apologise.
Josh smiles and nods. Seems like we got an understanding.
When I am called in with Aaron, I find out that Josh was right. When I ask for an explanation, I get this shit in return:
Apparently, some local gang leader’s girlfriend wanted to work here and the dude demanded that happens or else.
Fuck! At least Aaron was honest...
Still, this shit cannot go on. These fucking wannabes have ruined enough neighborhoods, around here.
They must be stopped.
As I start to collect my stuff from now my ex-locker, Josh walks in. He leans against the wall and studies me for a bit.
I do ignore him but still, that does not deter him from attempting to talk to me, again.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Go shooting. I need to clear my fucking head.”
“I kind of meant with you being unemployed and all...”
I pick up my now fully packed backpack and let it fall on my left shoulder as I turn to face Josh.
“No idea. As always, I’ll figure something out.”
Josh hesitates for a moment as I start to walk away.
Then, he mans up for the second time today.
“Let me know what happens. And if you need any help, you know I got you, right?”
That forces me to turn to him, again.
“Thanks, dude. I’ll ring you later, ok?” I promise, both to get him off my back and as a way to make up for my snapping at him earlier.
Josh’s beam could be seen from fucking space.
“Good luck, Rose.” he nods.
I finally exit the cafe and, with my back turned to the front entrance, flip it off in the process.
Instead of regret, all I feel is frustration and malice.
Something in me is slowly snapping.
All sorts of questions flood my head.
Why won’t anyone do anything?! Why are we letting criminals run wild?!
Maybe, juuust maybe, I could do something. I could report them to the authorities, right?
Then, I remember what happened to old man, Dylan, when he did...
Both daughters raped before being shot dead. Killer/killers in the fucking wind.
No.
That was not the way.
If I really wanted something done about this, I had to do it my-fucking-self.
The range is quiet, today.
Seems like it’s just me, a rando and Stan, the owner and the only decent person I ever knew from work.
When he found out how talented I was at shooting things and moving tactically in superior spots, he took me under his wing.
Now as a cadet at the time, everyone thought I was his long lost daughter or something and they were giving me the side eye.
Me? I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all that.
I would tell them where to shove their fucking opinions.
I wanted to learn from the best and so, I fucking did.
From close quarters takedowns to keeping cool under duress and making shots, he taught me everything he knew. That man gave everything to me. Or so it felt like.
Hence the warm smile I always flashed him whenever I would visit his range.
Too bad he retired after I took the oath...
Still, I get it. Dude is what? Sixty? That’s like being a hundred in “military age.”
I take out my glock 19, admiring it for a minute.
My sweet, sweet baby.
My Stinger.
I put my three clips on the table in front of me and use one to fill my mag before I load my glock.
A short beep later, the targets drop and I start my session.
*BANG, BANG, BANG*
Like always, my shots find the mark, no matter how far back the targets are.
No wasted bullets. No wasted time.
I have never fucking missed and that shit won’t be changing any time soon.
After my time, I clean up Stinger and buy back the bullets I used from Stan.
It’s already dark outside by the time I leave Stan’s. I make my way back to my flat fast, only to realize the fucking dealers have already set up shop.
I take a shower, dry my red curls and grab a quick bite, all the while trying to remember where my black hoodie’s at.
Then, I make up my fucking mind.
I am staking out the dealers around the corner tonight. Not like I gotta wake up early to go to work or anything, anyway.
I’ll study them as much as I have to. Enough to find out all I can.
Where they get their shit from, where all the different spots they sell at are, what they do with the money afterwards, everything.
Then...
I will get my fucking revenge!
