Downright frightened but impuissant to acknowledge the precarious nature of the events that engulfed her, Carmen slouched her back as she paced away from the climbing vines. Her wavering mind split in two directions - one that hoped Nikolas hadn't gone far and another that was deathly afraid of being in his presence. 

 Carmen hugged her torso as gunshots followed her. With each footstep, her eyes surveyed the screened nooks and crannies, shadowed by the magnificent houses. Only this time, she was pusillanimous at the sight of the harmless building. 

As she approached the front of the house, she was welcomed by the calm roads, glorified by bicyclists. The blaring horns were minimal and the neighbourhood was just another rich person's boring abode. 

Every time Carmen passed by the rows of houses, she either felt desire or resentment. As she peeked at the front door of the house, spotting the lack of Nikolas's void face, she felt fear and guilt. 

When she looked at the front door, she didn't marvel at its size. In fact, her eyes looked beyond the door - into the interiors. No one would know the abnormality of the innards of the living room but she saw through the facade; there was an unmoving body that she chose to abandon. 

Carmen didn't let the sorrow stay for long - she had mastered stoicism when she escaped her grandmother's clasp at only sixteen. In lieu of x-raying the house, she focused on what the naked eye could see - a red, LaFerrari Coupe, still in the driveway. Nikolas had left on foot, again. 

That was understandable. If Carmen was right and Nikolas was meeting someone regarding his new business he wouldn't want an asinine license plate to give it away. Carmen recited the alphanumerics in her head, hoping it was a memory that would stick for a lifetime. There was no harm in it and considering the threats Nikolas had spewed, it would serve its purpose. 

BD34 ARS

It also provided Carmen with auxiliary details - he couldn't have gone far. She shut her eyes and concentrated on the monster of a man as he was moments away from slamming the main door shut and leaving. Carmen was certain of her observations - they were verily never wrong. 

Nikolas had looked at the left side of the street which meant he most probably didn't go that way. If he were to go left, he would have examined the right side, making sure that no one was on to him, which was another thing Carmen was sure about. He hadn't examined the right side. Her deductions made one thing clear - whoever he was meeting was waiting somewhere in the east. 

Which is where the rich street ends, she reminded herself. 

With no additional choice, she put her faith in herself - a woman too selfish to help - and followed the route, subduing the growing fear and urge to look back. 

She let go of the breath that she didn't recall holding. As the distance between her and the rich neighbourhood grew apart, the gas-emitting vehicles were prominent and so was the noise. She no longer harked back to the scene, not currently at least. 

I was just doing my job, she convinced herself. If Emily's husband was deprived of sanity, that was a personal matter. There was no need for Carmen - an outsider - to feel the guilt that Nikolas didn't. Her brain usually worked quicker but she was slowing herself down with uninvited thoughts. 

Carmen was in her element - looking through the niches she had found herself in multiple times. They were shady, sure, but only if someone knew that there was an alcove, hidden in plain sight. Carmen was confident that it was not for the general public, that it was her little secret. 

She did not doubt that Nikolas knew about it though. 

Her footsteps trod with caution at the sound of a muffled conversation. If she was catching their pitch correctly, they were to her right, possibly in Alcove 2 (the second most frequent location she eavesdropped from). Unquestionably, she wasn't going to enter it. If the angle Nikolas stood in was even a tiny bit off, a bullet would be in her chest. 

Luckily for Carmen, she knew the area. She circled the alcove until she was right behind it. The stony walls protected Carmen's presence as she squeezed herself into a narrow path, hidden for most. It was an optical illusion; behind the grey stony walls was a trail mostly occupied by street cats and now, her.  She side-stepped deeper into the track until she stood right beside the second entrance to Alcove 2. Here, she was as safe as she possibly could be. 

Although, that wasn't very convincing. No matter how unknown, she knew she would never truly be safe again. 

Carmen's gaze fell on the sturdy back of a man in a tidy black suit - Nikolas. The wisps of hair that had strayed away in their altercation were back into place such that no one would suspect a thing. 

Facing him, was a tall man in black ripped jeans and a graphic tee. His dark brown hair covered his large eyes but the hazel orb stood out nonetheless. He was a rugged mess compared to the man he faced which built an assumption in Carmen's mind - he was just a mule. 

"Don't make me regret giving the first task to you," Nikolas said.

"Don't worry, Bane. I've got this," the man spoke, his elusive voice deep. 

"Be on Oxford Street by 10 p.m," Nikolas ordered, "I'll personally make sure that the goods are there at the usual spot."

"Anything else?" the man asked, solemn. 

"There's a package for an Anderson. Beware of him and don't drop your guard," Nikolas spoke coolly. 

"Alright. I promise you, there will be no hiccups."

"Do not contact me once the job is done. I have other business to look into," Nikolas said. 

Carmen found herself drawing a breath. He had to be talking about Emily. Perhaps he knew she wasn't going to survive and didn't care anyway. If he didn't want phone calls to his area, be it through his phone or a burner phone (which he probably had), it could mean only one thing - he was trying to get rid of the body. 

Carmen held herself from tapping her nails as an idea formed in her brain. It was a long shot and possibly time-taking but if she could get this man to call Nikolas, there would be something tying him to the disappearance of his beloved wife. Granted, the police had to look for the body first but that wasn't her only plan. 

She knew how to hold him accountable for the drugs. The desideratum, for now, was to wait till 10 p.m. 

Her horror would start and end on Friday the 13th. 

"You better not screw up, Reed. You know what happens," Nikolas warned at the wight walking away from him. 

"I'm aware," he said simply, his back still turned to Nikolas. 

As Reed marked his exit, so did Carmen. She pushed her way out of the path, rubbing her palms as she was out in the bright sun again. She didn't dare exit, unwilling to cross paths with Nikolas even accidentally. 

She twiddled her thumbs for five minutes before sprinting away. 

𓆩⟡𓆪

9:57 p.m

The roads of Oxford Street were illuminated by the countless cars that drummed past her. Carmen was slouched on a red telephone box, one of her favourite things in the world. It wasn't of much use anymore so when someone was caught in the closed space, Carmen knew it was a story to die for. 

Today, her focus was not on the passers-by - not all of them at least. She was looking for one attractive man through her hooded eyes. She looked at the ground anytime someone passed by her, carefully studying the stature. She clutched her handbag instead of letting it hand on her shoulders - she wouldn't allow pickpocketers to be her issue today. 

Carmen had arrived a long while ago, precisely, twenty-seven minutes ago. She'd hoped to find the usual spot but alas, this wasn't the area she was used to.  

She looked detached but was far from it. Carmen was used to observing people - the way they talked, the way they stood, everything. But to spot someone amongst the hundreds of bystanders was a feat she'd never achieved before. Today was different, life or death if you will. 

Carmen skipped through all the women and dedicated her focus to the men. Considerably, that was strenuous. Men of all heights either huddled in the footway amongst other lonely people or were hand-in-hand with their divine love. 

A particular man caught her eye - rather short, not boasting more than 167 centimetres in height. Overall, he was a puny man, his skinny frame being the focus of Carmen's perception. In his arms was a baby girl, not more than three months of age. He moved his arms left and right, bringing a beaming smile to the little girl's face. The woman next to him patted the tendrils of hair that had just begun to grow, wrapping her arm around the man's body. 

They were so unlike the Bransons but that was the face Carmen saw in their bodies. 

Everything was topsy-turvy; Carmen didn't feel guilt, she wasn't taught how to. In fact, the only thing she ever agreed with her grandma on was to not feel remorse for something that makes you happy. She'd done bad things with her own hands and yet, it was the possible death of someone by another man that sent her down this spiral. 

Focus, she chided herself, switching off the button that opened the floodgates to feelings. 

Carmen looked at her watch - 10:00 p.m.

Something told her that the Bane followers were very punctual. 

A rare sighting led Carmen's face to break out into relief. A few footsteps away from the telephone box was a hidden route, one Carmen was ashamed of missing. It was the man who stepped out who gave it away - decked in a black leather jacket as he held on to a bag of something - Reed. 

He mounted his bike, igniting his engine as soon as his body attained contact. He tilted the handlebar to the right, his flow directed in Carmen's position. She ran in the opposite direction, hoping that the distance would create enough momentum for the crash. 

Reed was surrounded by cars as he put his foot on the ground, manoeuvring his way past them. The clearing that appeared in front of him gave him the area he needed as he pulled the accelerator, his focus on the road and not the scheming girl on the sidewalk. 

Carmen adjusted her black hoodie, her eyes on the beat-up orange Suzuki. As he picked up speed, so did she. Carmen blurred out the car that approached both their vicinities. She stuffed her hand into the handbag and pulled a substance out - the purple robe she hoped to get rid of after all that ensued when she wore it. 

She swung her hand and flung it away, the purple robe cascading itself on Reed's ivory face. He lifted his hand to push it away, the startled motion causing unsteady hands. They moved on their own accord, pushing the handlebar to the left, causing the vehicle to tilt. 

Crash. 

Reed fell on the tarred road, the bag slipping away from his shoulders. A jarring scream that tore from his throat caused haywire around the accident. The shriek led to a haunting scene - a twenty-year-old man on the floor as his noticeably heavy motorbike lay atop him. 

Carmen didn't have much time. All it would take were seconds before the kind men and women from the footway approached to help. She rushed towards Reed, troubling her arm muscles as she pulled the motorbike up. 

Reed's eyes were blurry. He didn't see much except a woman, his saviour apply the side stand as she knelt beside him. Little did he know, she wasn't here to help. 

As the crowd began to form, Carmen discreetly picked up the bag he'd brought. It was of a creamy white colour and Carmen clutched it to her chest. She hoped that Reed's eyes would remain unclear as she got up to her feet. 

She hadn't noticed but blood had pooled around her feet. The wounds weren't visible to her eyes but they were present nonetheless. Cars stopped around her as the drivers got out to inspect the scene. Carmen had other matters to address. 

Hugging both her handbag and Reed's, she made sure the zippers were closed and all the contents were inside. She opened Reed's bag slightly, her eyes catching sight of the plastic bags filled with little pellet-like tablets - drugs. She zipped it back quickly, sparing one last glance to the man on the road. 

Running had never been something Carmen was fond of. Despite the dodgy activities she carried on every day, she never had a reason to run for her life. She preferred being strategic rather than just being an executioner. 

However, she'd gone after Nikolas's mule. Running was a given. 

Her feet pushed the tarred road behind her, the air pushing her hair behind her as sweat covered her face. She didn't stop running and she wouldn't, not until she reached the grand house she knew, belonging to a man who everyone loved - William Hawk. 

He was a well-renowned police officer, one whom people felt comfortable approaching. His wife - a real estate agent - had built a fabulous life with him and was often seen promoting other buildings. The mansion they lived in was one of the homes she had promoted - before falling in love with it and claiming it as her own. 

Every jobless individual knew where it was located, Carmen being one such person. It wasn't much but he was known to be a reasonable policeman. While she had no reason to trust or distrust him entirely, he was also her only option. 

Someone who looked like her - a person of the backroads, known by the rich and poor for spewing utter lies and profiting from it - would be a fool to approach a police station. That is, unless she wanted a murder being pinned on her. 

Especially since she was aware of an unopened case. 

Her best bet was to leave an anonymous clue for an existing policeman. 

So she ran. Into the rich streets, a place that filled her with more unease than usual. The long rows of houses looked relaxed but her eyes looked past them and each had a bleeding woman at the entrance. The adrenaline from running mirrored her racing heartbeat when she witnessed it all. Clearly, there was no escaping the memory. 

It tormented her more than anything, so much so that her mind simply bounced off the boy she'd bled. 

Carmen stopped abruptly. She'd reached what she'd recognized as the Hawk's manor far sooner than she expected. She picked the white bag from her handbag, struggling to find the permanent marker she'd thrown in there. Once she retrieved it, she scribbled some words onto the bag, ruining the last ounces of beauty it held. 

Nikolas Branson (Bane)

Was it a long shot? Definitely. Anyone who saw that would assume it was a case of framing, especially since Nikolas looked like the man nobody wanted to cross. But for the first time in her life, Carmen found herself hoping.

She hoped that this would be enough and she hoped that the accident and the loss of drugs were enough for Reed to contact Nikolas. 

But really, she had no way to be sure. Just hope. 

She walked up to the doorstep, dropping the bag on the front stairs. The halls weren't lit so she could only hope that the family was out and would be back soon. Her palms grew clammy as she walked away, all the adrenaline dying down. 

She was finished - her lungs were tired, her legs were wobbly and her heart was racing. Her mind was muddled, mixing up the day's events as she failed to remember why she had visited the Bransons in the first place. It seemed ridiculous to her that a man like him was after her - a nobody. 

But that didn't stay. Conning people was her life, it wasn't a mistake she could ever forget. 

Kill two birds with one stone - that's what she hoped she'd done. Nikolas's first business had already been ruined - as she'd predicted - and she anticipated a happy ending for herself. Whether she deserved that or not never bothered her, it was just hope after all. 

The white bag doubled over on the stairs as Carmen glided away, her feet sliding on the road. She hugged the hoodie, pulling it down on her face, hoping it covered her haunted face from the camera at every turn in the street. 

𓆩⟡𓆪

A/N: So... there have been mentions of the other characters 👀. What do you think? How bad are the consequences going to be? She seems to be making mistake after mistake, doesn't she? XD. There are very few dialogues but that's going to change soon 👀
WC: 2836