Clean Hack (The Tainted Saints Book 1)

by Eve R. Hart

  I’d learned many things over the years. Like how these people were on a day-to-day basis. And how they would hold tension in their shoulders when there was something going down. The little changes helped me to know when something major was happening. And since I didn’t have sound for most things, I learned how to read lips pretty quickly.

  Sometimes, I’d even speak the conversation out loud.

  And many times, I’d add my own thoughts in there as well.

  Maybe I was a bit lonely. Starved for attention but also too busy to go out and find some kind of companionship out there in the real world. Okay, and I was a bit too comfortable in my own space. I liked it here. I had somehow convinced myself that what I had was enough. And for the most part, it was, because I was on a mission. I had an end goal to get to. After all, that was why I’d dug myself into this hole anyway.

  There were days when I felt so lost, so helpless. There were days when I felt guilty that I stopped a few minutes longer than necessary to watch something going on that didn’t have anything to do with my mission. There were times when I wanted to keep pushing but had no choice but to give into sleep. There were moments when I thought I was getting close to something only to find that I’d been heading down a dead end.

  Even with all of that, I never gave up. Never wanted to. I couldn’t stop, and some might have said that it had become an addiction, one that was going to suck my entire life away, but I didn’t let that get to me. Until I had the answers I was looking for, then I would never rest.

  The world had turned its back on Allison.

  She had been long forgotten.

  But I would never stop. Because she was my best friend and I always swore I’d never let her down.

  My stomach growled quite loudly. I struggled to remember the last time I’d eaten anything.

  I wasn’t big on cooking. I knew how to do it and there were a handful of times every year that I’d put my skills to use. But most of the time, I’d just reach for a frozen meal or make a sandwich. It was also easier that way, fewer dishes and mess to clean up. It was on holidays when I got a little too lonely and nostalgic that I would be reminded of the fact I hated the cleanup part, but only after I’d made the big mess.

  Days like Thanksgiving where I’d order a huge turkey and the ingredients to make an insane number of amazing side dishes. I went overboard whipping up green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, cornbread stuffing, and sweet potato casserole. And that was just dinner. I may have also overdone it and made ridiculous amounts of pie that I would nearly cry into as I tried to finish them a week later. Like the ever so popular pumpkin pie. And I couldn’t resist making apple and pecan as well.

  Then there was Christmas, which consisted of making a ham with a cool design of maraschino cherries surrounded by pineapple rings, and sometimes I added whole cloves making it look like the strangest kind of pincushion. I chose sides that reminded me of home, the one I was sure I could go back to if only I could give up my life’s work. My parents still loved me, that I was sure of. But it hadn’t been easy. So to remind me of their warmth, I’d surround—and drown—myself in things like homemade macaroni and cheese, butternut squash covered in cinnamon and butter, and Swedish meatballs. I never said it all went together. And dessert consisted of rice pudding, double chocolate brownies, and a million different kinds of cookies. Those I think I missed the most. My mom always made the best cookies. The Oatmeal Surprise had always been my favorite. I think it was because every time my mom made them she would add in different things. It was, well, a surprise. But there definitely was always cranberries and chocolate chips in them. My favorite parts.

  I reserved things like black-eyed peas and roast beef for New Year’s Eve. Choosing a spinach salad over collard greens because I had never been a fan of their bitter taste.

  That was about it. Oh, and my birthday, which I celebrated alone every year. I even made my own cake, which I was really fine with. Yes, just fine. I had no room to complain because I knew I’d brought this all on myself.

  “So, let’s see what is going on with those Steel Paragon boys,” I mumbled to myself as I shifted my focus. Sometimes it was like watching a movie, or a really bad reality TV show. And sometimes like— “Oh, look at that!”—right now, it was like watching awkwardly shot porn.

  These guys weren’t afraid to pull out their junk and fuck the closest thing within reach. Like for real, there was so much sex going on. And everywhere. Whatever kinks they might have had were never hidden. Most of the time right out there in the open in the common room while some of the other men were playing a game of pool. I’d seen so much dick over the last few years. Did I sound like I was complaining? Well, honestly, I think at this point I was kind of desensitized to the dick views. Also, the overwhelming pussy shots and not to mention the giant fake boobs that seemed to be everywhere amongst these clubs. Sometimes it was fascinating to watch how they bounced up and down like it just didn’t look real at all.

  Yes, I knew I had some strange problems. I was alone. No one would know. So at some point, I stopped caring and let the curiosity take over. I stopped shielding my eyes a long time ago and pretty much nothing I saw at this point even made me blush.

  They also didn’t do much for me. At first, I watched with a strange sort of fascination. All the jerking, hair grabbing, and ass smacking hadn’t been things that had been done to me. Because, sex at sixteen and seventeen hadn’t been so much about those things. It was awkward and more about trying to figure the whole thing out. But now, I watched for sheer amusement. Plus, believe it or not, sex really helped when trying to figure people out.

  While I wasn’t shy when it came to sex, it had been a long time since I’d had it.

  Everything died that night she was taken.

  I had always been the troublemaker out of the two of us. The one that would rather run wild at night whereas, Allison loved to stay in and study. I collected boyfriends each week, while she collected extra credit. Two different people but yet we were the best of friends. She pulled me back when I was about to go off the wild cliff and I liked to think that I put a little fun in her Friday nights. Sometimes anyway. I’d only pester her to join the outside world when I hadn’t seen her outside of school for days at a time. And of course, I would never let her get too crazy. She looked out for me and I looked out for her.

  I flicked through the feeds. Some of the clubs had good security, making the images so crisp and clean on my screen that I could count the number of lines in their crow’s feet. Others were cheap, and it showed through the cameras they chose to use. Grainy, blurry images that at times made it hard to tell which member I was looking at. Those were the worst because I couldn’t get a good read on what they were saying.

  I had notebooks full of pages on each club. I mostly watched motorcycle clubs because I had a good feeling that would lead me to the man I’d been searching for, being his kind and all. I did keep an eye out on a few small-time mobs and whatnot. Just in case he tried to reach out or partner with or possibly even kill off. That last one was the one I most expected.

  Oh, the things I’d learned about bikers over the years. They were all mostly badass guys that were super grumpy. They liked to have sex, with lots of random people, sometimes at the same time. They were protective of each other and their club. Most of them wouldn’t hesitate to give their lives for it. And I’d seen that more times that I could count. I’d also see the aftermath, how the clubs would mourn, pull closer together, and carry on with their fallen men tucked in their hearts. Gone but never forgotten. Then always came the revenge. That was usually pretty brutal and bloody. And resulted in me giving a call to a certain someone for a heads up.

  I was maybe intrigued by how it all worked. Most of them seemed like lost souls or broken in some way. I would look into them not only because I could, but because I was overly curious. And maybe at times didn’t have much else to do. So I knew the stories of most of the men I watched. I figured out what linked them togeth
er. And maybe I even understood that need to find that place where you felt like you belonged.

  Tonight I was bored. It happened every now and then. Oh, and it never led anywhere good.

  This was when I usually watched things I really shouldn’t and became that creepy pervert, even though I didn’t get off to it. It was more for entertainment purposes.

  I found one of the Steel Paragon men in his room with one of the club girls. I’d never met the guy but I could tell he was as charming as they came. He had that smile, you know that one, the right amount of tilt and teeth that made you believe whatever words he was slinging your way. I imagined he used the word baby and doll face loosely, among others. He was smooth and to an outsider that wasn’t even in the same state as he was, I could tell instantly.

  Bocca was right up there with me as far as skills went. Only, I was a little better. Obviously, because I was watching him and he didn’t have one fucking clue. He hadn’t found me out for years. He made it too easy for me to hack his system. Sometimes I pictured what his reaction would be when he found out that it was his love of cheek-exposing undies that brought him down. That man sure was specific about what covered his junk. And I had been witness to him modeling those undies for many people. It was hard not to laugh at it every single time. But also, he pulled it off quite well. It had to be the tight ass and rippling back muscles.

  I was getting off track.

  While I did have sound to what went on in his room, I often turned it off at times like this. I didn’t need to hear the terribly overdone moans that came from whatever girl he’d brought into his room.

  She was down on her knees and this was where the fun really started.

  “That’s right, baby. You know you like that dick.”

  Yep, I made my own script up. And I did drop a few octaves for his part. As well as made a high, whiny pitch for hers.

  I wasn’t exactly proud of it, but I had to find my entertainment somewhere. Also, my life wasn’t that great and it gave me the break I needed. Sure, I could have found some mindless show to watch. I could have fallen into some dark binge watching hole. Or I could have ordered some books and had them in my hands in two days for the down times. But, let me be real, this was so much better. It really helped me to stretch my imagination, just as good as reading a book. Right?

  “Oh, I just love your cock. It’s so big and hard. Yeah, just like that, cram it down my throat.”

  The tears and snot never really did it for me. I wasn’t one for dick choking. Granted, it had been a damn long time since I’d had one in my mouth, but still, never really liked that feeling like I had to hold back the vomit from erupting.

  This went on for a while. It was enough to make me laugh and get my mind off of everything for a bit. Watching him fuck her didn’t do anything for me. I didn’t have the urge to open my trunk and dig for the right vibrator that would make me go off like a rocket in two point five seconds. I didn’t even need to change my panties.

  Maybe I’d been alone for too long. I was starting to question how weird I was. But I guessed it didn’t matter as long as no one knew about it. And I couldn’t imagine anyone would as long as I kept it locked up inside.

  Much like most people, they used sex for all kinds of things. What I’d learned was that it very rarely had anything to do with feelings. And they never seemed to mind the whole sharing thing. I wasn’t a prude, but I couldn’t imagine being with the same person that all of my friends had been with. I wondered if they swapped stories after and what that might sound like.

  ‘Yeah, got there before you tonight, dude.’

  ‘Fuck, I could tell, bro. Her pussy was so loose that I had to fuck her ass just to come.’

  This, of course, would be followed by high-fives and laughing.

  Okay, I knew they didn’t really talk all dude-bro fraternity like, but for some reason that was how they sounded in my head. Maybe it made them seem less intimidating. Or it could have been that they kind of had the maturity of a frat boy. At least from the outside.

  “Oh, my God. I’m fucking losing it,” I muttered to the empty room.

  Times like this I missed the past. I missed when things were more…simple. When I was living in a house with more rooms than three people needed. On a street where no one so much as went one mile over the speed limit. In a neighborhood where kids could play in the street until after dark without adult supervision.

  Back when sneaking in and out of my room and running off to do things I hoped my parents never found out about was only as dangerous as I wanted it to be.

  One night.

  One single thing.

  Had changed that safety net forever.

  And I was the only one around that knew it. Kids still played in the street. Everyone still left their doors unlocked during the day. People still went to work without so much as a shiver of fear.

  All the while, Allison was gone. Had been taken. Evil had come into our world and I was the only one that knew. Well, and her father, but he was evil from the beginning so I didn’t count him.

  The days grew longer for me and I felt like I couldn’t tell a soul. The police questioned me and told me that I shouldn’t make up such things. Then they proceeded to tell me exactly how much they knew about me and how I couldn’t be considered ‘credible’ at all. They looked at me as though I were a common delinquent. Which, maybe I couldn’t argue with, but at the same time, I didn’t really do much beyond what most teenagers my age were doing. Sure, I snuck out. I partied. I had random sex in the backseat of cars and strange bedrooms. I drank, but never to the point of being so drunk I didn’t have my wits about me. And I never, fucking ever, did drugs. So, all in all, I didn’t think I was that bad. But it didn’t matter, even then I could tell that no matter how hard I screamed, no one would believe me. I wondered for a long time, if there was even anything I could have done to change the outcome. That if I had been a so-called good girl, would it have made a difference? They wouldn’t have listened to me because even before I walked into that police station and demanded to talk to someone, the cover-up had already been handled.

  That night, the last time I’d laid eyes on Allison, had been the night I felt the most useless ever. But what made it worse was that I continued to feel that way, even up until this day. I couldn’t help in any way. I couldn’t have stopped it that night. I couldn’t get people to see that she had been taken. And now, I couldn’t find the man responsible for it all. I couldn’t even track down one lead that would help me save her. Which, I knew I would because I refused to believe that she was gone.

  I needed a pizza.

  Strange thought, I know. But pizza meant, pizza guy to deliver it. Which meant that I would have three minutes of human interaction and not feel like such a freak. Plus, I was hungry. That was just as good of an excuse as any.

  Or I could have called Nadya. That was probably the better choice. Because she made me feel normal in a strange way. She didn’t judge me. It probably helped that I didn’t do the same to her. We kept the whole work talk pretty much to nil. I knew what she did and she knew enough about me to know that I could get myself into a lot of trouble if I were ever caught. That was enough for both of us. There were times that line got crossed only because I liked to watch her targets like she did. I helped her get and set up her surveillance equipment, well in the way that she placed the cameras and I linked everything together from my magnificent chair. I got her up and running and therefore had access to the same things she was able to see.

  And then I would get curious and do research on her targets once I was able to get a face. I’d never share what I found out because that wasn’t what she wanted. She never asked, so I wasn’t sure what I’d do when that day came. Or worse, the day that the contract she took was to take out someone that didn’t have evil clouding their shadow.

  I couldn’t think about that. I had to stay focused and believe that she knew what she was doing. It wasn’t my life, it wasn’t my soul that I had to w
atch out for. I didn’t have to live with the things that she did. Maybe that was the coward's way of looking at it, but that was the way it had to be. I couldn’t even imagine living with all of that on my head.

  That shit would blow up in my face one day, I just had a feeling.

  -4-

  The Reasons Why

  Clean

  There were times I’d have a week to myself. A week of sitting around and waiting. Because that was pretty much how the job worked. There really wasn’t the setting up appointments situation in my line of work. It happened, and then I was called in. I didn’t often turn down jobs, being that I knew who I was working for and knowing that I was going in to take out the trash. The scum. The people that no one would miss. The evils that walked the earth. I had some unsavory clients but I knew how they were, I knew that deep down they weren’t all that bad.

  Killing always came at a cost. That cost was me. Well, yeah, there was the stain that it left on their soul, but that wasn’t my problem. I’d never taken a life. Had no intentions of it, either. What was so different from tearing a body down to pieces and limbs and actually taking that life? I could answer that simply, it was a not only just a job, but the damaged had already been done by the time I got there. I hadn’t there to stop it, not that I would have in most cases anyway. I wasn’t there to talk some sense into the one holding the gun, or the knife, or wielding a pummeling fist. My part came in after and that was alright with me. That was how I kept my balance and, I believed, my karma neutral. Strange way of thinking about it, but it worked for me.

  Oh, and by the way, that price they paid was pretty steep. I may not have looked or acted like I had a nice safety net to fall back on, but I did. Most of it was tied up in savings in various accounts around the world. Some of it even bagged up and stuffed in random locations around the country. I didn’t often travel outside of the States, so there was no need to keep my stash that far out of sight. Airline tickets would have made it seem more suspicious and since I liked keeping as far under any kind of radar as possible, I limited myself to things that wouldn’t make me appear on paper.