She had enjoyed ten years of being totally irresponsible. Just her, with her parents, her sister, and her brother. The five of them could take on the world, and they could take it on together. Until, one day, her tenth birthday, when a man came to the inn with a grim smirk and a manila folder. And then her life had flipped upside down and the entire group, the merry marauders, the fearless five had to move to a dirty old brick hovel with a colorful, inspirational painting of a black woman looking to the sky with arms open.
And now it all led up to this. Here she was. Alone in her room, as usual. Her tan forearm was tossed over her closed dark brown eyes, shutting out the threadbare and filthy world around her. Her oversized headphones, filched from some unexpecting metro passenger, surrounded her head and pounded out angry punk music. Her lower lip trembled, making her silver lip ring shake, as she thought of the boy next door and his stupid whore.
"Éponine, you get out of there. We have work to do," came a loud voice, scratchy, even audible over her loud, pounding music. "Come on, girl."
"What do you want now," groaned Éponine, pressing the pause button on her iPhone, another stolen good.
A tall, gaunt man blocked the little sunlight from coming through her door as he stood in the frame. "We have a job to do."
"Seriously, Dad? I've finished with that life. I'm not doing it anymore."
No sooner had she enunciated the last syllable than her father had crossed to her twin-sized bed from the other side of the room and grabbed her sweatshirt. "Eponine, I swear to God, I did not raise you like this. If you don't do this, I will have my way with you. Don't make me do to you what I did to your sister," he hissed.
She laughed with mirth. "Oh, like throwing me out on the street to the dogs is any worse than this. Whatever. I'll fucking do it. Just don't make me fucking work with Montparnasse."
Two hours later, Eponine was sitting on her kitchen counter, dressed in black leggings, a black tank top, a black jacket, and black combat boots, dark hair in a ponytail, arms crossed, and a scowl on her face, for her one and only sworn enemy had just crossed the threshold into the kitchen.
"It's been so long," taunted the tall, slim man, with too-long sideburns and skinny jeans. "I haven't seen you in what feels like forever. Won't you give Montparnasse a little kiss?" He leaned in and nudged her chin upwards, going in to pinch her cheeks and hold her face.
Éponine hocked up a good ball of saliva and spit it in the offender's face, swinging her leg slightly so that her steel-toed boot kicked her childhood friend where it would hurt the most. She watched with pleasure as his face contorted in pain and insult.
"You'll regret that, Spitfire," he hissed.
"I won't regret a thing, asshole," she retorted. "What's the job today?"
Montparnasse straightened his back, drawing himself to his full height, seemingly still smarting from pain. Six foot four, was he? She couldn't tell. From her five foot three, anything taller seemed impossible to tell. "We have to case a house. Apartment, really. The bobbies gave us this one."
Eponine's jaw dropped. "You mean...we're doing this one for the police? Why? What?"
"You look like you're trying to catch flies, Ponine. Anyways-"
"Don't call me 'Ponine," she muttered darkly.
"Fine. Éponine. Well, we're getting shit from a...what's it called...an enemy of the state. This guy is trying to overthrow the government, and the judge isn't getting the bobbies a warrant. That's where we come in."
"But we haven't bribed the police in seven years. We don't do that anymore," Éponine said warily, sliding down from the counter. "The last time that happened, it completely backfired. This is a horrible idea."
Montparnasse chuckled and slapped Éponine's bottom. "We grab a few files, get out, give them to the police, and get guaranteed protection for three years. Eh, he seems like a rich asshole. We can get a few things for ourselves. Leave the thinking to the men, babe."
Éponine set her jaw. "I swear to God, Montparnasse. I don't even want to do this. I just don't want to get fucking killed by my father."
"Come on, babe. We've done crazier shit than this. Let's go." Montparnasse forced the distracted Éponine's lips together for a quick peck, and pushed her shoulder, making her stumble towards the door. It was time.
