Hit List

sixty seven | dark

Bree's POV

The beating of my heart is all I can hear as I stop at the back side of the building where Antonio's offices are.

He has no cameras back here—but I've been wrong before and I could be wrong again. I could have walked both Jamie and Elijah into a death trap.

"You coming?" Jamie grunts as he climbs out the passenger seat.

I stare up through the glass windshield of my car, my body refusing to move.

What if this goes south and I mess everything up and lose two good people whose lives matter to me? I don't care if I die, but Antonio's mind doesn't work like that—he would rather I live in constant torment knowing that I made the worst decisions of my life and have to live with the consequences.

But I guess that's what father's do, huh?

I lean my head forward against the black steering wheel. "Is there no way I can talk you to out of coming in with me?"

There is no response. When I look up I find them already walking into the narrow alley where a back door awaits.

My heart jumps and I shut my car door and sprint after them. Everything feels like it is going at a mile a minute and I can't keep up—I can't breathe.

There is this nagging feeling that someone is going to die tonight and I don't have any control over the situation.

Although I don't think I've had control for a really long time, aside from the small moments in time where I'd let Elijah hold me or kiss me.

My eyes go to him at that thought. He is standing so close and yet I miss him. I want to reach out and touch him, to see if he'd smile or flinch away.

He meets my eyes and I immediately know the answer to my curiosity: neither. He would smile. He wouldn't flinch. He would simply fall apart.

It shreds my heart. "Elijah, before we do this, can I talk to you?"

Even though he is looking at me, his expression is blank. Those eyes, once filled with every emotion, are now so empty. "The woman I loved is a killer. My sister is dead. I am about to walk into a building that I may not walk out of. What more is there to say?"

"That . . ." My eyes go towards the black door. "That you're right, and we may not walk out, but I need you to fight like you want to live. It's hard sometimes, to keep going, but I need you to fight."

"Why?" He asks, shifting the black machine gun strapped over his shoulder.

I can't believe I gave weapons to these two guys whose only practice has been water gun fights and possibly a game or two of paintball.

"Because . . ." Good question. Why? Do I even have answer for it? After standing there for too long a moment, I realise I don't.

So instead of answering, I step past Jamie and Elijah and into the back entrance of the building, my grip tightening around the two blades in each hand.

The building is as dark as every memory I have inside it—and it all comes at me like blinding car headlights.

The threats from Antonio, his deception, his lies. Victim's lifeless eyes staring back at me, their blood, their pleads for mercy. It feels like my heart has concaved and will no longer function.

My hand immediately goes to my chest, my breathing getting worse with each passing millisecond.

I really don't want to be here. But I know that if I don't continue today, I may find myself forced back in here against my will. So I take each step, one at a time, until I find myself at Antonio's door.

Jamie and Elijah stand behind me like tall, muscular bodyguards. I still remember how easily I took down Jamie, regardless of his size.

And Antonio is better than me at fighting.

I start to feel dizzy, my vision coming in and out of focus and I can't find it in me to lift my hand to the door and push it open.

"If you don't want to do it, I wi—" Elijah stops talking when a voice comes from the other side of my door.

"My brother is going to come for me, you know? He is coming," Kasey insists.

My head swings to Elijah, to gage his reaction and see if he looks as relieved as I feel. She's alive.

But why would he keep her alive? He he never hesitated to hurt or kill anyone in the past.

Elijah's eyes line with tears and he freezes, his body noticeably stiffening. I step away from the door and still, neither Elijah or Jamie say or do anything.

"He thinks you're dead, child. If anything, he is probably off in some corner wallowing in his own self pity and anger towards the girl he loves," Antonio responds, snorting. The sound of a desk drawer closing follows his words.

Me. I'm the 'girl he loves'. More correctly the girl he used to love.

The information and thoughts swarming in my brain are overpowering. Antonio is the reason why my sisters are dead. Those were his boots that I saw while I was hiding under the bed, scared out of my mind. And he is the reason why I have been scared every day since—because if he didn't kill my sisters, my parents wouldn't have left and then I wouldn't have needed a reason to kill for money. He lead me right into his trap and that is exactly how I have felt my entire life. Trapped.

But I am cutting the net right now.

My fingers lift to the handle of his door, all of that anger bubbling inside me.

But before I twist the handle, the door is pulled open. Antonio meets my eyes and smiles. "Welcome."

•<•>•

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