DeVile held the gun in his hands, sweat trickling down his temple. His grip on the gun was wavering, a feeling he had rarely experienced, even in his recent and more experienced years. He wasn’t lying, he really had killed girls who wronged him over way less. For some reason, this one was hitting him differently. He had every reason to wipe her off the face of the earth, to rid them of another rich white girl that got into something too big for her britches. Running the tip of his finger over the trigger, he stared at her down the barrel and smiled as her lip trembled, her hands out and open towards him. She was petrified. He loved it. “I’m waiting, sweetheart.” The fact that she thought some petty little hitlist, that could be either legitimate or illegitimate, and expected him to be okay and charitable drove him to insanity. She was clueless, a walking figure of vanity that tried to conceal it by playing with the big dogs. Unfortunately for her, this dog bit--and typically, it was hard. He watched as she reached into her back pocket, her voice wavering as she tried to mutter out a useless explanation. He shook his head, kicking the chair to the side that she had tossed at him. “DeVile, I think it’s more important than you would think.” Biting his tongue, he relaxed his trigger finger and began to lower the gun. He made sure not to relax it completely, he couldn't risk her getting too comfortable and pulling a fast one. She let out a breath, revealing her phone with an open palm and handed it to him as soon as she swiped it to the screen she wanted him to see. Snatching it from her hand, he read the names sloppily written on a piece of paper. They were Mary Janes and John Does, effectively irrelevant to what he was aiming to earn off of her. “What is this?” He asked. DeVile was giving her the benefit of the doubt. She tried to respond a few times, her voice choking as soon as it left her mouth. He chuckled at the sight, dropping the gun to his side so she would stop babying. “Alright, the list… It’s a bunch of nobodies, they have day jobs, probably don’t have a record. They all share a common theme: helping to improve the common good, so why would that list be in my father’s drawer? He only keeps a record of the important people, just like the list I gave you the first time around. However, I think this list is a little more… uh, daunting?” “To be fair, I think everything is daunting to you.” “Pay attention to the notes, in the blue ink. That’s invisible ink, I could only see it with these weird glasses. They--” “Highlighted things like oils, residue, and hidden items.” “Yes…” He sighed and moved his eyes to the right, eyeing the highlighted ink. It was blurred because of the lenses she used to make it appear on the camera, but it was evident. The sentences were mindless, talking about AP and Jezebels. It didn’t make sense. He flipped his wrist over and inserted the flash drive into one of the sockets on his wrist. It was something he saw as useless when he first replaced his forearm with this cybernetic extension, but apparently, it served him well after meeting miss flash drives over here. Besides, it could do more things; it could help him aim, it could melt metal, and it could turn into a knife. A lot of stuff that could help him in a moment of danger. Blinking, his vision turned into a relatively translucent screen. The world around him was visible, but masked by the document held beneath this document. It was fuzzy, things flickering in and out from the loose connection. From what he could make out, it was a similar list to the one Desirae had taken a photo of. More counselors, some cops, and a few activists who lobbied for a more inclusive government. Through those names, though, was a crossed line; a signal that they were hit. He looked for one name that had stuck out to him, Susan Alchrettes. One of the names that was next on the hand written list, the date matching up with what was written. Still, that didn’t give him much of a clue. It instead puzzled him further. “So, what do you want me to do with this info, Desirae?” “I want you to use your connections for something good in your life. For once.” DeVile snickered, blinking until the screen wiped off his vision and he was able to remove the drive. Turning to look at Desirae, he crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his finger against the metal of the gun. “You don’t know who I am, or what I’ve done. Don’t be so coy, I’m the one holding the gun.” Desirae smiled slightly, holding her hands up in the air. “Then why don’t you shoot?” DeVile narrowed his eyes, taking a few steps towards her and fiddled with the gun in his hand. Her smile wiped as he lifted the gun up so it was in both their visions, aiming away from them and towards the wall. Her lip trembled again, a sign that she was bluffing this confident persona. “I don’t like fake, got it? Whether it’s lies, or a cocky attitude. It doesn’t play well with me.” She nodded slowly, gulping as his eyes raked over her features. He lowered the weapon so she would stop panicking, replacing it with the flash drive. “Something tells me you might want this back?” Desirae reached up for it, her jaw dropping as he moved it away, tutting under his breath. “Patience, young one. I want you to answer me this: where are you getting this info? What type of connections are up your sleeve?” She sighed, looking all around before mumbling. “My father’s a politician.” “Ah, so the hen lays it’s first egg. I already knew that, darling--how do you think I found out your name? Your info isn’t the most private. Not really an answer though, where is he keeping this info stored away?” “No way in hell are you getting that info.” “So, in your house?” Her head snapped to him, her jaw dropped as she scoffed. DeVile smiled widely, nodding with a dramatic gasp. “I’m smarter than you think, dollface. I’ll be in touch.” He opened the door, signaling for her to walk out. He handed her the drive as she passed him by, mockingly saving goodbye with his gun. She jumped a little, walking faster before turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, not gonna shoot you or anything.” She hummed, frowning before opening her mouth. “Do you know… nevermind.” He narrowed his eyes, watching as she turned and walked towards the living room. Coughing from the smoke, she pinched her nose before stopping in her tracks again, turning to face him head on. “Do you know a Luci?” His eyes got wide, biting his tongue as he shook his head. “No, why?” Deep in the confines of his mind, behind things he had practically locked away and forgotten forever, was somebody he loved dearly. One of his closest friends, and most passionate lovers, was named Luci. They were partners, crime lords with their eyes set on a brighter horizon. They fizzled, and she disappeared after getting arrested. Honestly, he had figured she would have been killed with all the sensitive info she was carrying on her shoulders. Desirae nodded, not waiting very long before jogging down the stairs and heading out the front door. He had a list saved of all these random and obscure names, a clueless girl who he willingly was shoving into this world, and the possibility of another woman wreaking havoc on his life. His lifestyle had never been easy, but it never seemed so chaotic before meeting Desirae. Toddlers have that effect, though, taking the glass sculpture that had been a labor of love and cracking it into a million pieces. Maybe I ought to call her Baby more often, it’s only fitting for a toddler like her.