Page 6 of Falcon's Prey

Ember threw her phone aside and grabbed the black velvet box. I’d seen a lot of shit in my life. It came with the territory when you grew up in the system. You always bounced around from one place to the other. But I had never seen anything as I had right then.

“Unfuckingbelievable.” I gave a humorless chuckle.

The girl had a fucking glittery bong. Still, I watched with avid fascination as Ember took a hit, then threw her head back and closed her eyes as if she wanted the world to disappear.

She was one fucking train wreck, and all of a sudden, it felt like I’d just walked myself on board the crazy train.

Just then, my cell phone pinged with a text from Pam.

Pam: So, how’d it go?

Pam and I were old associates, you could say.

Me: I’m in.

Pam: Don’t fuck it up.

Pam knew just like I did what it felt like to be the dirt beneath people’s shoes. We’d grown up together. Well, as together as two orphans could. We’d fought, lied, and bled our way out of the gutters.

Me: I won’t.

Ember Remington was just another stop to my endgame.

“Daddy?”I called after my father.

We were new in this city. Well, I was new. Since I could remember, we’d lived in my father’s country, until a few weeks ago when he’d packed us up and brought us to New York. I had yet to start school and make friends; I was lonely. My dad was all I had, and he was away more than he was home.

“My little diamond.” He turned around and smiled at me.

I was seven, but still, I knew his smile never reached his eyes.

“Where are you going? It’s Sunday. I thought we were spending the day together?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I have to take care of some business.”

“Can I come?”

My dad gave me another smile. To his credit, he looked remorseful.

“Not today. But soon. I will be hiring new security for us, and then you can go out.”

Ican go out. Notwe. Me and whoever took care of me.

“Okay.” I gave a nod and started to turn around.

“Love you, Ember.”

“Love you too, Daddy,” I said without bothering to look back.

As children, we do we love our parents unconditionally, even if they don’t deserve it.

I woke up covered in sweat, despite the chilly weather in my apartment. I hated when memories came to me in my sleep. I was glad this was one of the better ones…if having a neglectful father was better.

Dad had been in and out of my life since I’d moved out of the house. A text here and there, a random call, or a personal visit if I did something extremely scandalous. Earlier today, while I recovered from my hangover, I got a text from him. He wanted a family dinner. I had a sick feeling of dread because we weren’t the family dinner type of family. When we did get together, it was a business talk or to drop bombs.

Since there was no way I was going back to sleep, I removed the covers, grabbed my robe, and went to the kitchen for a cup of water. The hallway was dark, and the only light came from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. I didn’t much mind the sun, but I preferred my curtains closed. Karen insisted on letting sunlight in, except in my room. No one dared to move my black curtains.

I was used to the darkness; it didn’t scare me. Not even when I was a little girl. I would wander around at night with my dolls, not scared of monsters. Because some monsters thrived in the sun, so what was the point of being afraid of the dark?