Herring: Chapter One

“Angela Herring.”

A dark-haired woman about 5’5 rose from the beat-up plastic chair that was barely holding its own weight, let alone hers. She had smooth curves with a thick coat of chocolate keeping them into place. She walked into the office and sunk into the leather couch.

“I’m sure you already know why you’re here.” She stared blankly at the mahogany door behind the voice.

“Herring.” She looked up in sadness, she messed up.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh honey. Sorry does not get my money back. You were an investment. I trusted and believed in you. I thought you were special and you let me down. What do I have now?” ‘The Voice’ clucked his tongue as he paced around the room. Herring just sat in silence. “Kill them.”

Her eyes widened at the thought. She had killed many johns before but this john had a name, a connection, she had loved them. Or maybe they had loved her? Could she? She couldn’t. She could ju-“Okay.”

The words escaped her mouth before her mind could finish her thought. She left the office and descended from the top floor. Her heart was pounding. She could not do this anymore. She had found someone that knew her, everything that she had done, was doing and was willing to do and asked not one question. They had helped her find a life outside of the one that The Voice had created for her.

She slid into her white Jag and waiting till she was least a mile away before she made the phone call. It rang at least twelve times before the line finally opened and a voice smoothed on the other side. “Hello?”

“Chloe?!”

“Herring? Hey. Are you ok-“

“There’s no time just listen. I need you to pack anything and everything you do not want to leave behind and meet me at the airport in one hour. One hour. It’s 2:13 and your ass needs to be at Kipling Airport at 3:13, no later and we have to go.” At this point, Herring was breathless and feeling dizzy. She didn’t know what she was doing. She had only seen this done in movies was was in no mental space to wipe two whole people off the face of the Earth. She couldn’t do this.

“Okay. I love you.” The line went dead before she could explain anything else and she just kept driving. Less than fifteen seconds later, her phone danced in her lap and she answered without hesitation.

“Angela.”

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