AN: So, I kind of forgot this was being uploaded on here.
Anyways, welcome to part 3. I decided to make a part 4 so the end is less rushed and it is going to be a little different from the TMI version I originally wrote. This is rated M for blood and guns; it also has some angst.
Now we are doing a couple of time jumps where all flashbacks are marked. As we are jumping 10 years into the future. This will help fill in the small plot holes left untouched.
The Murderer
Part 3: The Manipulator (3.7K)
10 years later
Skye's POV
I dance around the room, attempting my best smile at the old man eyeing me like a meat piece.
Sadly, that is what I want.
For months I have been playing this man and going to these parties trying to find the answers I need.
He has been useless so far.
But my contact tells me his old man will lead me to my answers.
So, for now, I play a hidden perfect weapon by being a silent sex slave.
After my Garrett died, I told myself I would give up this kind of work, and it worked. I bleached my hands and moved on, and was happy for the first time in my life. Then my mom passed away from cancer, and I lost it, but I kept myself strong and found the courage to reconnect with Lincoln.
After that day in the warehouse, he managed to get clean after a few relapses, only to become 5 years clean. I was so proud, and for the first time, I felt my life was together.
I worked my day job at home as IT support. Lincoln was studying to become a doctor to help people suffering from addiction by hopefully working in a rehab facility.
Until I came home one day after running to Walmart to find Lincoln dead at our dining room table, all propped up for me, with a note in blood saying, "I know what you did-J.G."
Rage filled me, and I lose it.
I took the items that mattered to Lincoln and me from the house and burnt the house down to the ground, not looking back.
Something I thought I would never have to do again.
But someone knew we lived in that house and had been watching because when I bought the house, we paid for it in cash, with fake names, and it is in the middle of a farm.
Going off the note, there was only one person who knew of the events besides Lincoln and myself since there is no way it can be Garrett.
It has to be Grant Ward.
The man I haven't seen since that night where the three of us went our separate ways.
After that night, I kept quiet and laid low, yet he came for my brother. It made no sense. Ward agreed to the plan in that motel room and did not attempt to save Garrett. It doesn't make sense, but my friend is dead with a note addressed by a 'J.G,' for John Garrett.
Ward was more Garrett's son than Lincoln was, so he must have snapped from regret.
Thinking of Lincoln is heartbreaking because he was finally getting his life together, then it was taken from him too soon. It should've been me who died. I have done worse, and I honestly don't deserve to live.
So, I don't live.
I seek revenge.
So, I go back to playing the innocent daughter and got in touch with many of Garrett's old contacts trying to hunt Ward down and discover nothing.
He vanished, just like me, but even I was found.
So, I don't stop looking.
Now here I am at a banquet as arm candy trying to pour secrets out of all these old men and his associates. Doing this makes my skin continues to crawl with disgust by having his skin touching my skin. Even though I should be used to the touch since I've been committed to this cause for a year and had decades of training with Garrett on how to use sex as a weapon, I gave that lifestyle up. I only do it now to achieve my goal of getting revenge for Lincoln, even if it means blowing this greasy man later tonight.
Anything for Lincoln.
My days include fluttering my eyelashes to be innocent and using my body to get what I want. It is sad, but it involves a lot less killing by making these men think they are worth the disgust. They open their mouths and feed me information they don't realize they are giving me.
Sometimes they end up dead anyway because I don't want another woman to have to deal with them. I might be numb to it all, but the next girl might not be, plus this was my choice to go down this path willingly.
Nothing is too much at this point. I have lost a year of my life trying to solve this mystery, and I don't regret it.
As long as I can see, Ward's life fades from his eyes.
To think, I saved his life all those years ago.
The night continues on as normal, where I feel so claustrophobic. The only thing to get through it was reminding myself to breathe, or else I will pass out.
It is a weakness.
My psycho fake father is frowning down at me from somewhere for having all these weaknesses.
If I weren't weak, Lincoln might still be alive since it is more likely that Ward found us because we were together. If I hadn't reached out, then he might still be here.
This is all because I tried to be good and let someone try to have a normal life.
Boy, was I wrong?
I was young and naive at 19, even when I had tons of life experiences then. By 29, I have killed my father, lost my mother, and my brother figure, who was murdered. I am now colder than I ever was.
The music fills the room as I am passed around from men to men, all of the different age groups where only the younger ones can keep their hands to themselves—just another night in my life for the last year.
With the dance floor filled with men, it should be much easier to find the man I am looking for, that I was informed by the last guy I killed that the biggest crime lord since Garrett might know where to find Grant Ward.
The dead man told me to look for a Calvin Johnson before getting a bullet in his skull.
As the clock ticks, I continue to fail as I continuously ask each new dance partner his name, only to be disappointed by the outcome.
Finally, the air shifts and I look up to the balcony, and there stands a Caucasian man with salt and pepper hair in a suit that reminds me of a penguin.
Then I see the amount of muscle behind him. I then conclude that it must Calvin.
As I dance around, I attempt to get a better look and unfortunately, I do.
Right behind Calvin stands my life purpose.
Grant freaking Ward.
The key to my revenge.
Upon snapping myself out of thought, I quickly excuse myself from the floor and rush to the closest bathroom to gather myself.
As I stand in front of the mirror, I analysis myself running a stressed hand through my red curled wing and look at my green eyes in the mirror to ensure my contacts are still in place to ensure he won't recognize me until I want him to.
Until then, I don't want him to panic, because after the amount of training I went through, I am unsure if I could take Ward out if he was fighting because I am so out of practice after giving up training for almost a decade, only to began training in the last year following Lincoln's death.
Meanwhile, it doesn't appear Ward ever stopped since he is working with another crime lord.
Looking in the mirror under the disguises and all the layers of makeup, I can see the emptiness in my eyes and hollow cheeks.
I am like a ghost of my former self. The girl who took out Garrett and was unhappy and gave up a chance of happiness by gaining a friend with the man who would later kill Lincoln.
Maybe if I had been friends with Ward when he wanted to, we would've been more, and Lincoln would still be alive.
It is all my fault.
Now, here I stand so close to my revenge that it scares me when it is something I have been seeking for a while.
I need to find him to make him suffer.
Yet after a year of looking, I find him, and I freeze, only to run away.
Looking into my green eyes, I count to 10 as I practiced in therapy. Which feels like centuries ago, and I exit through the bathroom doors, ready to return to the floor to watch them before making my entrance; unfortunately, I become too stuck in my head I don't pay attention and walk right into someone.
They mumble an apology, and I make the mistake of looking up.
My heart freezes, and my hand lowers and begins sliding a knife from underneath the sleeve of my dress.
I stand here, 29 years old, in front of the man I tried to save. Who betrayed me and stole my best friend from me.
The one and only Grant Ward.
As I look up at him, his face shows no sign of recognition, and for that, I am relieved.
So, I flutter my eyelashes and reach for his collar and say in my best French accent, "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Can't say I am sorry now."
He smirks and looks right into my eyes, and I wait for him to react, but he doesn't.
He instead picks up one of my red locks of hair and twirls it around with his finger before letting it go and looks down at my boobs before returning to my face and asks me if I am from around here, and I have to restrain myself from punching him in his smug face—such an idiot.
I can't believe I slept with him.
"Just in town, my date is here for business," I answer.
He looks at my face and answers with, "Isn't he a little old for you?"
I shrug, great he noticed me down there. So, I answer with, "Have to pay the bills, somehow."
He nods and takes my hand, and draws circles on it before asking me to come with him, which I obey.
We walk the halls, and I have to keep reminding myself to regulate my breathing; otherwise, my palms will sweat, and he will be alerted.
Always must be in control.
We reach a black door marked with gold lettering in the form of the letter 'G.' That should have been a giveaway for me to find. He then uses a touch screen that scans his palm, and the door clicks open, where he pushes the door open and gestures for me to walk through, which I do.
He walks to a minibar; I reach down and grab the small gun strapped to my leg as he begins pouring drinks in glasses while asking me white or red. I take this moment to aim, and as I am about to click the safety off, he goes, "Are you really going to shoot me again, Skye?"
FLASHBACK
10 YEARS AGO
"You shot me?"
"Shhhh," and I walk over to his bag and pull a white T-shirt out.
I press the shirt to the wound on his arm, trying to absorb the blood enough for it to look real enough for later.
"Was that really necessary? You know the number of people this is going to attract?"
I shrug as I put the shirt away and toss it on my bag before pulling the medical kit out.
"I think we have 5 minutes before anyone arrives to respond to the gunshot. It'll give me enough time to stitch your arm and for us to leave."
"Why did I have to be the one getting shot?"
"I already had my gun trained, plus I don't know how good your aim is. I rather not have another scar, plus this was only a flesh wound get over it" as I cut the strings and stand up and quickly gather my stuff.
I am almost out the door when he grabs my arm, and I almost flip him over.
Instead, I hiss, but he doesn't let go and asks, "Where are you going?"
"Didn't you hear? Nashville, I only have 24 hours. I need to get to the airport before my contact is off work and can no longer smuggle me through security. Since it doesn't look right carrying a bunch of knives, a bloody t-shirt and guns onto a plane."
I try to move, but his fingers don't budge, and I look up into his brown coloured eyes that cause my insides to flutter.
"I am coming with you," he declares.
"Now you aren't," as I wave the t-shirt in front of him, "'You're now dead. Go live your life; I got this".
"You can't go in without backup," he says as he finally drops my arm.
"I have never needed backup, and I am not going to need it now," I say as I march to the door.
"You are going to get it, either way, so stop fighting me. We have the same contact, I imagine." I sigh and walk out the door, and he follows closely behind me.
Present
"What is a little reunion without a bit of bloodshed?" I say.
"You almost had me fooled, but your face is one I will never forget. What is it that I can do for you?" he asks, spinning around with two glasses of red wine in his hands.
"'I came for answers," I say, and he raises an eyebrow.
"What is the question?"
"Why did you kill Lincoln? Especially after what I did for you," I say, and as I keep my voice even.
A flash of horror crosses his face, and he pales.
Yeah, buddy, I figured it out.
"I didn't know," He shutters, and I roll my eyes.
"The note was addressed from John Garrett, there were only 3 people who left that room and knew what we did, and it can't be me. So, it has to be you," I declare, training my gun on his head and clicking the safety off.
"Wait for a second," he says and then asks, "You think I killed your brother?"
"He might as well have been my brother, and I know you did."
"No, I did not. Why would I do that?" placing the glasses down, and he runs a hand through this hair; well, all habits die hard.
I shrug, "That is what I want to know; why, after almost 9 years, did you track us down and kill him and not me?"
"Jesus Skye, I did not kill Lincoln. I have been trying to stay away from that world."
"Not doing a good job of that," as my eyes flicker around the room briefly.
Now it is his turn to roll his eyes as he says, "No, I cleaned up my act and got a decent job."
"You call this a decent job?" I question as I dramatically wave my free hand and continue with, "You work for a crime lord again. What do you expect me to save you from this one too?"
He rolls his eyes, "Skye, you are out of line here. I wouldn't hurt you like that, and I have no reason to. I am sorry to hear about Lincoln; he was a good guy. I know somewhere inside of you knows I didn't do it."
"Don't try to get out of this; you kill my brother, and I find you working in crime again. I thought I broke the cycle."
He sighs and answers with, "Can you just put the gun away before you accidentally shoot me, I haven't been shot in a while, and I would like to keep it that way." I don't move, so he rolls his eyes and says, "I did not hurt him for crying out loud, I hadn't tried to find you since you disappeared in Manhattan when your mom passed away, and I figured you did not want to be found since you completely disappeared. But otherwise, I haven't tried to see you since you disappeared from me in the cloak of darkness at the motel in Clarksville's that night. You have a real disappearing act happening."
"You tracked me to Manhattan," I state and find myself question my abilities. Am I getting rusty?
He decides I probably won't shoot and walks over to a chair and sits down, wine in hand and answers with, "You are pretty hard to track, don't worry. Jiaying made it easier with her heath, but you covered most of it up." he says then features to my hair before saying, "You dying your hair with blue gave you away most of the time, and you slipped up by using my last name for some reason outside of Kansa, and it got flagged, so I searched for you and followed you from a year before the disappearance Manhattan, Denver, Chicago, San Diego, but you always went back to Manhattan where your mother was. So, the question is, why did you use my name?"
I find myself stunned by the information that he noticed the name and how much he followed me. I don't lower my gun, but I answer with, "My reasons are my reasons."
"Skye, our time together was-" but I cut him off by yelling.
"We weren't together, and I came here for revenge, not to chit chat."
He places his empty wine glass down and looks me in the eyes, and goes, "When is the last time you spoke to someone as your true self?" I remain silent as he continues to analyze me, "Your therapist, maybe?"
"How did you know about that?"
He shrugs and answers with "I was tracking you remember,"
I nod; not everything can be hidden when you are paying with dirty money.
"Have you slept? Because I can see the purples under those eyes even with the layers of makeup you are wearing"
I keep quiet because he is right. I haven't slept in months with my soul purpose being dedicated to Lincoln's murder. Where I experience nightmares where I have to tap my mouth shut each night to stop the screaming. Then when I wake up for the third time, I give up on sleep and focus on research.
He doesn't wait for me to answer and instead nods, then stands up before heading over to the bar, then returns with the wine bottle, pours his glass and holds mine out to me.
I inch closer, keeping my gun drawn, and pick the glass up, bringing it to my lips as I continue to keep eye contact with Ward in case he tries to pull something on me.
"I find it is really saddening you didn't find peace, and you would think I would kill Lincoln. I have no reason to. You didn't want me coming to the warehouse, but I was your backup because I knew somewhere deep inside of you cared about me that's why you killed your father; I know you could have just vanished, you wanted to at the gas station to the airport."
I roll my eyes and drink my wine, "Again, he was not my father. Yes, I was trying to protect you; you should have left me at that gas station and vanished."
"You know you didn't want to be alone. You mumbled it in your sleep."
First time I hear about this.
"Whatever I said, I didn't mean, so don't be delusional."
He now rolls his eyes the first time in a while and fills his glass with some more wine, and drinks a sip because commenting back with, "Words are words. They mean nothing, got it. How can I prove I didn't kill him?"
The sentence 'Words are words' repeats in my mind as I fall into memory.
Flashback
I wake from my nap, and I look over at Ward driving and see him look at me with sympathy?
"What?" I snap, and the sympathy flashes out of his eyes.
"Are you sure you are okay?" he asks.
"Of course."
"You know, almost 24 hours ago, you were a lot nicer and open. What happened to that version of you?" he asks.
I shrug and answer coldly with, "I was playing you; that wasn't me."
"None of it as real?" he asks.
"Telling half-truths is the easiest lie; you should know working with Garrett. They become easier to remember and often explain why you are a certain way."
"So, you were hurt and fell into Garrett's lifestyle because of your family?"
Well, he isn't wrong.
"I am not talking about this with you, so stop asking and just drive; after this, we will not see each other, so stop trying to get to know me" I snap and throw my legs up onto the dashboard of the red truck and stare out the window.
"I know you say that, but words are words. I see your actions, and they tell a different story."
Those are the last words he speaks to me.
We stop at a gas station, and I think about running and getting another ride, but I don't. Instead, I break into another vehicle and steal it, forcing Ward to abandon his red truck because it is more noticeable if Garrett were to begin tracking us.
Throughout this whole ride to the airport is in silence, just how I like it.
It is easier this way.
Until we are met by Will, who sneaks us onto the plane, and we take off.
My hand's harsh grip the seat as I try to stabilize myself and breathe.
Instead, I panic.
Ward is in the back of the plane and doesn't witness me panicking and falling into a hole of darkness that is my soul.
I react quickly and stab myself with a sedative and fall asleep.
I am only woken up by someone shaking my shoulder, and my immediate reaction is to punch them, which I do.
The man yells, and it takes me a moment to realize through my cloudy vision I punched Ward.
He recovers quickly and glares at me, but I see a look of concern in his eyes.
I just smile back.
Words are words.
Present
"Are you okay?" he asks, and I shake myself.
"Sure, now explain to me how you didn't kill Lincoln and how you claim to be out of the crime world only to be working for Calvin freaking Johnson?"
"It's a long story."
"That is really helpful and definitely proves your innocence," I say sarcastically, not lowering my gun.
"I have a job to finish, but once I am done, I will explain everything to you," he says, and I roll my eyes.
"I got time, and you aren't leaving this room until-" then I am cut off by the gunfire and the pain of a bullet hitting my arm.
AN: So, I made it a cliff. It's okay the wait of 7 days will be worth it.
So I killed Lincoln and Skye's mother. Oops. I had to bring Skye and Ward back together somehow because remember the damage Skye has suffered.
Questions:
1.)Ward says he didn't kill Lincoln. Do we believe him? If so, who killed Lincoln?
2.) Who shot Skye?
3.) Why does Ward say he is no longer in crime if he is working for a crime boss?
My TMI version did not have the female character getting shot, and I am changing a few things out of my own experimenting and making the ending less rushed.
Let me know what you think with kudos and comments. Thank you for your support!
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Disclaimer: I do not own AOS, nor do I have a beta. So ignore grammar and spelling.
Stay Safe!