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A necessity in my dark, dark world.
Still, a part of me—a very small part—still recoiled at the carnage, at the blood staining my hands.
Just like the first time.
“Good work,” Hawk’s voice cut through my thoughts, a hint of pride in his tone.
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.
As I waited to see what the third vehicle would do—turn around, if the driver was smart—I continued to scan the area for any further threats.
Hawk was probably doing the same—our mutual trust and unwavering loyalty the only constants in this dangerous field of work.
The bond between us ran deep, forged in blood and fire. We owed each other our lives, and that kind of debt wasn’t easily forgotten.
I trained my scope on the last vehicle, my finger itching to pull the trigger and eliminate the final threat. But something caught my eye—a young boy in the passenger seat, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him. My heart clenched, and I hesitated. “Shit, Hawk,” I said, my voice strained. “There’s a kid in the car.”
Hawk’s response was immediate, though his voice was tight with frustration. “Damn it.” He hesitated. “Eliminate the threat.”
Fuck me.
I hated it when kids or women were involved.
I trusted Hawk’s judgment—more than my own. But even as a ruthless killer, I had lines I never crossed.
The boy’s wide-eyed gaze burned into me from across the distance. I wrestled with my conscience, torn between my job and the life of an innocent child.
“Negative,” I finally admitted, my voice barely a whisper.
“They can’t reach the hangar, Falcon,” Hawk snapped. “If this goes south, we’re dead.”
His words echoed through my skull.
Dead? As in, someone would dare to kill the legendary Nathanial Hawthorne if this went south?
Now that was the kind of interesting tidbit I would’ve loved to have before we started this job.
What kind of shady shit was this mission? And why did Hawk, who was a guy who valued morals over money any day of the week, agree to this security detail?
But no matter the situation. I couldn’t ignore the truth within me. I may be a cold-hearted assassin, but even monsters had their limits.
“Give me cover fire,” I told him, having made my decision. “I’m going in.”
“Dammit, Gabe… Fuck. Just don’t do something stupid.”
With a deep breath, I fired at the tires of the SUV, sending it careening off course.
Heart pounding, I abandoned my post and exchanged my sniper rifle for my trusty 9mm semi-automatic and raced down the stairs, my boots echoing against the metal steps. I jumped behind the wheel of my Jeep, which was parked behind the tower, then gunned the engine and sped toward the wreckage, gun drawn, like a brain-dead knucklehead.
This was the kind of stupid shit that got you killed.
As I approached, armed men swarmed from the vehicle, weapons raised, shooting at me.
Adrenaline surged through my veins, and I picked them off one by one, with perfect aim.
Too late to turn back now.
I was almost at the vehicle. The driver’s door stood open; the driver slumped back with a single bullet hole to the forehead—Hawk having my back.
