005 · Verena · I

Gretna, Louisiana. Human world

۞۞۞

It took me 6 miles to go from New Orleans to Gretna, the second largest city in Louisiana. Which both me and Emma happen to know a lot, since two of our nine foster families were from here. All in Louisiana. Three in New Orleans, two here in Gretna, then one in both Harvey, Terrytown, Marrero, and Jefferson. And although Emma never left the state, I have made quick travels to Arkansas, Mississippi, and Texas, all neighboring states.

All for the shady work Benjamin Mason Durocher makes me do. At least the bastard let me borrow one of his Harley Davidson when I have to leave the state for it. That's the least he should do, since he's the one making me leave. But it's okay, the money is worthy.

If I win the fight tonight, on the underground ring here in Gretna, I'll definitely get two grand, which will help a lot with my dept. Thankfully I bandaged my wrists again, since the cuts I make to give Emma my blood to use as a paint, never heal like all of my other wounds. I've long given up on try to learn why that was the case. And not just to this healing thing both me and Emma have.

I'm not even going to get started on my odd golden right eye, that caused me to got through lots of bullying and humiliation, back in elementary and middle school. The same goes for my hateful white streak in the frontal top of my hair at that. At least that stopped when I began dying the damned ivory streak of my hair ebony, and using grey lens that made my eyes look… normal. And that was enough to make me look identical to my sister.

Thankfully she didn't have any odd spots in her perfect figure, I seem to have taken all the oddness for myself when we were in our mother's womb, before she abandoned us, that is. Otherwise, if we had been born entirely identical, she would have had to go through bullying as well, and she's too sensible and soft for that. It would break her, and I would kill the people responsible for it.

No one touches Emma and leaves unscathed to tell the tale. Benjamin's minions don't try anything funny because they are aware of my retaliation. I've broken the arms, legs, and ribs of more than three of them when they merely suggested doing dirty thing to my sister. And I would do it again if needed, even if their medical expenses were added to my debt again.

Of course, I never told Emma about it. And it's not like I'm not okay with her being with someone. I am, as long as she's the one who chooses to be with them. If she wants to be with a guy, or a girl, and I don't feel like the person will hurt her, I'll be glad to even help her out on it.

I know from experience how is it to be forced to do something I don't want, and the pain and humiliation from it is bigger enough to harm one's soul. I never want my sweet sister to go through such a trauma.

As I arrived in Night Owl, the pub that works as a front for the underground ring some feet down here, I parked my favorite black Harvey from the jerk's collection, and covered my eyes with the sunglass and my chin with the black mask. With my fake ID in hand, that said I was 22 and my name was Hannah Hayes-Thomas White, the name I'm know for on the ring, they let me inside.

And as my favorite song, Don't Let Me Go by Raign, played on the loud speakers of the pub, a smile trying to lift up the sides of my lips, but I only allowed a soft grin. I walked past the pub and sat down on the bar. The fight only starts at 9, so I'll have some free time before it begins.

When Joshua, the bartender who I've hooked up twice, saw me, he smiled flirtatiously and came to me, "It's been a while since I last saw you around, White Swan," he prepared a drink with whiskey, vodka, sprite, strawberries and ice, already familiar with my preference. "Here, on the house," he winked and leaned forward.

I bit my bottom lip, fighting the smile, and looked at his dark green eyes, "Thank you, Josh," I accepted the drink, because there's no way I'll throw away a free drink. I felt as someone big sat on my left, but I ignored it, my attention focused on Joshua.

I don't usually go for blondes, since that's my sister's preference and not mine, but his dirty blonde curly hair, the tanned skin, the green eyes, and the full lips got me hooked. Not to mention that's he's half a head taller than me, and has quite the body, thanks to hitting the gym constantly.

"Where are you living now? Still in old New Orleans?"

A nod, "Yes. But I don't plan to stay there for long. In a year or so, I'll definitely be leaving this damned stated for good."

He chuckled softly, "I wish I could, but I still have about three years of debt to pay to you know who," Benjamin's friend, the owner of this pub and of the ring down stairs.

Sigh, "I feel you," I took a long sip of my drink. "Will you watch it tonight or will you be working up here the entire night?"

"Will you be going in tonight?"

"Mm-hm," as I drank all of my drink, he handed me another, adding that is also on the house. "Thanks again, Josh. So?"

Joshua pursed his lips, "Not tonight, but I'll be cheering for you. I'm sure you will be the winner as-"

"Excuse me?" A deep raspy voice sounded on my side, spreading goosebumps down my spine, but I still ignored it. "Stop flirting with the girl and bring me your strongest whiskey. The whole bottle. No ice."

The man's rude tone didn't sat right with me. He can't come here and order people around as if he was the damn owner. And I got annoyed as Joshua turned around and did exactly what he ordered. Thanks to the alcohol already doing something to me, I clenched my jaw, trying to hold my temper.

In a second Josh came with his drink, but he seemed strangely off, and didn't even look at me as he come to where we were at the corner of the bar.

"Now, leave!" The guy ordered again and I snapped.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance, as Josh actually obeyed the strange man. I expect to find a gross hairy old bastard, but the person siting next to me was definitely not gross, hairy, or old. He was definitely a bastard, though.

I'm not joking when I tell I've never seen such a mesmerizing guy in my entire life, not even on tv. He was huge, even siting down he was ridiculously big, probably around 6'5, and his wide and broad shoulders made it him look even bigger. The arrogant guy was using a black shirt and black jeans, but I could tell how incredibly sculpted all the muscles in his body seemed to be.

But the gold tone of his skin, I could tell he had initially white skin, but honed that with a lot of sun. His raven black wavy hair fell over the sides of his forehead, shadowing the intimidating dark pink eyes that were analyzing myself up and down, and his rosy full lips curled up in a grin that was more devilish than anything. And he emanated an energy that screamed [I am dangerous. Get away from me!], but that was exactly my type of man.