Page 20 of Ruin My Life
I spend a few minutes scanning the bed, searching the tangle of sheets for the bullet casing. When I find it, I tuck itinto my coat pocket, smooth the bed the best I can, and then exhale.
I slip my trench coat on, fingers brushing against the hard line of the pistol now holstered again at my thigh.
As I step out into the hallway, I leave theDo Not Disturbsign hooked on the handle. My hands sink into my pockets as I make my way to the elevator.
I should feel good right now. Lighter. Satisfied.
I just took another Songbird off the street. Probably saved a few people from getting“roughed up,”as Eddie liked to call it.
But all I feel is...nothing.
Eddie was just another name. Another dead end. One more body in an ocean of bodies—
And I’m still no closer to finding the men who matter.
The ones who tore my family apart.
In the last few months, a handful of people have reached out—most claiming to know something about the men in the photos I’ve been chasing.
None of them panned out.
All I’ve managed to confirm is that the tattoo on the lean guy’s chest likely marks him as a high-ranking member of the Songbirds. Some lower-tier thugs have it too—meant to intimidate, to mimic status—but that hasn’t gotten me any closer to the truth.
Every lead has ended the same way.
A different Songbird.
A different alias.
A different dead end.
Some matched the description. Others, like Eddie, were rumoured to have ties. But no one knowsanything.
Or at least, no one’s talking.
And the stockier guy? The one with the green eyes and black ponytail? A fucking ghost.
No one even knows if heexists.
At first, all I wanted was information. Answers. But the deeper I’ve dug, the clearer it's become—information costs blood.
The second word spreads that someone’s sniffing around, the Songbirds get jumpy. And when they get jumpy, people die.
So I stopped waiting for answers.
I startedtakingthem.
The gun I bought for protection? It's become a tool. A lever. A lockpick. A trigger for the truth.
Every Songbird I've tracked down is dirty. None of them are innocent. They're all part of the same disease
Murderers.
Rapists.
Traffickers.
Debt collectors.
