Jessie woke up to the sound of rain…
Not the gentle, romantic kind. This rain hit like a thousand pebbles against metal, hammering in a rhythm too loud for comfort, annoying actually.
'I've somehow ended up sleeping in a dumpster' this was her first thought.
Her second thought was that dumpsters weren't supposed to smell like gunpowder.
She blinked while the world came into focus slowly in her vision. She was in a dim, cramped room with bare walls, a single light swinging from the ceiling, and the distinct taste of copper in her mouth.
Jessie groaned and tried to sit up. Bad idea. Pain shot through her chest like she'd been hit by a truck. She looked down to check what it was…
*SHOCK*
She froze. 'Am I… dreaming or dead?'
Those weren't her hands.
Her hands were slender, pale, and a little scarred from years of thrift store living. These hands were bigger, rougher, with faint calluses across the knuckles. Her arms were corded with muscle she didn't remember earning.
"What the helly…" Her voice came out lower, rougher. Definitely not hers.
She stumbled toward a cracked mirror propped against the wall. The face that stared back wasn't Jessie's. It had a sharp jaw, a stubble and dark eyes that looked like they'd seen too much.
A stranger. Worse still, a man.
*SHHHHH*
She breathed in cold air and backed away so fast she nearly tripped over a pair of black boots on the floor. Her breathing quickened. She pressed a hand to her head, willing the panic down.
'Think, Jessie, think.' She grit her teeth to calm her speeding thoughts.
Memories weren't supposed to feel like they belonged to someone else, but these flashes kept hitting her — a dark alley, the metallic click of a gun, a man's voice speaking her name.
'But my name's not Caleb but Jessie.' The memories she was recollecting had this name virtually on repeat… Caleb.
Had she… reincarnated? And even worse, into the body of, a man??
*BAM!*
As she was about to curse the gods for reincarnating her with the wrong gender, the door banged open.
A woman stepped in, soaked from the rain, her hair was plastered to her cheeks. She looked at Jessie — or Caleb — with a mix of relief and irritation.
"You're alive," she said flatly, setting down a black bag. "I was starting to think you weren't as good as they said."
Jessie stared. She had no idea who this woman was.
The woman sighed, seductively peeling off her jacket. "You've got two hours to get ready. The job's still on."
'Job?' Jessie opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Questions could wait but right now, she needed answers, and apparently, they were buried somewhere inside the life of a man named Caleb.
And if the pounding in her head was anything to go by, she was running out of time to figure it out.
…
Jessie sat frozen long after the woman had disappeared into another room, leaving faint wet footprints on the wooden floor.
The silence she left behind wasn't comforting at all but rather, it felt like a ticking bomb.
She rubbed her face — his face — and flinched when the stubble scratched her palms. 'Huh' she would have to get used to this till she could file a complaint to that unreliable god, whoever he was… Hmph!
Her fingers wandered to the faint scar along his jawline, a thin ridge of tissue that felt like a memory she didn't own. 'What could have caused this?'
Her old life was slipping through her grasp like water through cupped hands, and all she had now were pieces of a stranger's story.
GRRR
Her stomach growled loudly. Unladylike for sure…
"Huh… so Caleb gets hungry too," she muttered under her breath. It felt absurd to speak — her own voice gone, replaced by this deep rumble that made her sound like a movie villain trying to order McRonalds.
She glanced at the ink black bag the woman had dropped. It wasn't zipped fully, and curiosity was a terrible thing to bring into a dangerous room, but Jessie had never been good at resisting it.
'Let's see here…'
She pulled it closer and peeked inside. It contained clothes, a handgun, a black phone, and at the very bottom, a folded photograph.
Her hands hesitated over it. When she finally opened it, her chest tightened.
The man in the photo was him — Caleb — standing with a boy who couldn't have been older than eight. The boy's grin was missing two front teeth, and he had the same sharp, dark eyes.
Jessie didn't know why, but looking at the boy made her throat ache.
The door creaked, and Jessie stuffed the photo back in like it had burned her.
The woman stepped out, now dry, wearing dark jeans and a fitted leather jacket, showing off her graceful curves. She tossed a towel at Jessie. "Dry off. We move in twenty minutes."
Jessie caught it clumsily. "Move where?"
The woman arched a brow. "Don't start playing dumb with me, Caleb. You're not that good of an actor."
DUM-DUM
Jessie's heart skipped. 'If only you knew.'
When she didn't answer fast enough, the woman narrowed her eyes. "Something's off with you. You hit your head?"
Jessie forced a laugh — Caleb's laugh, deep and careless — even though it felt like swallowing glass. "Guess… I'm just tired."
The woman studied her for a long second, then shrugged. "Fine, whatever. Just don't screw this up. You owe me, remember?"
Jessie nodded slowly. She didn't remember, but the way the woman said it made her feel like she didn't want to.
The next twenty minutes were a blur. She simply moved on instinct, letting Caleb's muscle memory guide her — pulling on boots, adjusting the gun holster like she'd done it a hundred times, checking the weapon with hands that didn't tremble.
It was terrifying, especially for a sheltered person like her, not just because of the gun, but because it all felt natural. Like she'd done it a thousand times already
*Pitter-Patter* *Pitter-Patter*
They stepped out into the rain-slicked streets, the city lights glowing against the wet pavement. Jessie kept her head low, mimicking the way Caleb's body seemed to naturally move — confident and purposeful yet dangerous.
They didn't speak much as they walked. The woman's stride was fast, her eyes scanning every shadow. Jessie felt it too, the sense that someone was watching. It was a hard feeling to describe.
When they finally stopped, it was outside a small, shabby apartment building. The woman turned to her. "We'll spend five minutes throughout the course of this mission. In and out there should be no mistakes."
Jessie opened her mouth to ask what exactly they were doing but then she caught sight of a familiar face through a rain-streaked window.
HUMM
She felt her blood turned to ice. It was her best friend. She remembered the one who had handed her that glass of champagne. The same one whose expression had been calm and sort of… relieved, as Jessie's world went dark.
Now she was here, and Jessie had just walked straight into her orbit.