Eclipsing the bright lights beyond, the hitman's black gloved hand reached in past the moving thrush of human bodies and grabbed my wrist. I was frozen in terror, unable to elicit a response as he tried to pull me from the floor.

  I thrashed and kicked, forcing him to relinquish his grip as I rolled over and attempted to claw my way back to my feet, avoiding a rush of legs moving past me in the process, before feeling a familiar hand snatch my leg and restrict my movement.

  “No!” I yelled, which came out as a whisper, my voice-box locking up with fear, as the herd clomped past me toward the exits. His arm strength slid me back across the floor, while I scrambled, swimming for life and pawing sweaty streaks across the cold white tile.

  Grabbing the back of my shirt, and then my hair, he pulled me up into submission.

  “Play nice, girl,” he whispered, a low pitched, nasally voice, whispered in an American accent, coldly in my ear. “Don't want the bloodline killed off in full today...do we?”

  I shivered, submitting to his will and nodding slightly, before he pushed me forward, and we started walking quickly with the flow of the crowd. Tilting my head, I tried to look back for Jack, but was unable to do so, as the hitman noticed and pulled my twisted arms tighter behind me. “No peeking,” he chided.

  “Ari!” Jack yelled from a distance. “Ari!” He repeated.

  “Keep it straight ahead,” the hitman hissed, “and you'll be okay...today. It's not personal, love, just business. You got in the way of the wrong people."

  “Jack!” I shouted, out of nowhere, flailing my arms and causing a scene.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Mistakes,” the hitman said, yanking my hair back and pulling me quicker along with him, “were indeed made. Ones you shall regret.”

  “Ari!” Jack yelled from behind us, swinging at the hitman's face from behind.

  Suddenly, the hitman whipped around, Jack's fist grazes his glasses and sending them to the floor, while he pushed me forth as a shield.

  Jack was awestruck, his jaw dropping. He tried to find the words to say, but they were nowhere to be found on his tongue. After a brief moment of silence, he spoke up.

  “You—you’re alive?”

  “In the flesh,” the Hitman touted dancing a little jig whilst pulling tighter around my neck with his arm. “What?” He continued, “no kind words for such a fitting reunion?”

  Jack’s lip twitched with rage. “What have you done?”

  “That’s how you start this out? You truly haven’t changed. Always a question of what happened. You took notes from him. At least she,” he swayed me, “had the gusto to ask why.”

  Jack gritted his teeth as he motioned to move forward.

  “Uh uh uh,” the Hitman wagged his finger, “one wrong move and who knows. The neck is such a fragile thing.” He followed up with a mock cracking noise, rolling the fingers in his black glove.

  “This is insane,” Jack growled.

  “No,” the Hitman responded, “insane is fighting for a cause and knowing you’re only a cog. They don’t care about you, and you’re certainly never rewarded for the suffering you endure.”

  “It’s not about rewards,” Jack clenched his fists.

  “Everyone thinks that way at first...but you’ll seen,” the Hitman grew morose.

  He threw me to the ground in front of Jack. “Protect her if you can...whatever it means to you. Maybe not today, I’m a generous man,” he added, “but I’ll take her someday. I always finish the job. Like you never could.”

  Instantly, the Hitman backed away, disappearing into the crowd.

  “No, wait!” Jack yelled, unable to reach him before he was gone, and turned back to me, kneeling down to cradle me.

  “Are you okay?!” He bellowed. Emotion laced in his voice, like I’d never seen. Was it...fear?

  “Who is that?” I coughed, rubbing my throat, while Jack held me tensely.

  Jack let the tension roll off his tongue, rapt with anger. “Chase...” he said somberly. “My brother.”