Prologue #2
He huffs as we both jump to our feet. Blood pours from his arms and drips down my face.
Then I make a move, and the gift it gives me is the feel of my blade sinking into his stomach.
His breath is sucked out of him in an instant, and his eyes go wide with panic, like he’s never considered actually dying on a job.
That’s mistake number one. If you’re not mentally prepared to die, you don’t belong in this line of work.
He stumbles on his feet before slumping to the ground, blood pooling around him as his body begins to shake. That’s it? The great Griggs legacy is going to die just like this? Shame.
I tsk at him, shaking my head in disappointment as I circle him.
“Vincent Griggs,” I muse with a sigh. “Don’t you remember the first rule of mercenary work? Strike fast and strike first. I was down! You almost had me!” I shout in excitement before sighing once more.
“I’m not gonna lie, I was kinda bummed when I heard you were my target. You’ve been fun to fuck with over the years, and you’ve got a lot of raw talent. A little coaching up and you could be a fucking animal.”
I can see the fight is leaving him by the second, but he seems to be holding on with everything he has just to stay awake. He knows as soon as he’s out, it’s all over.
“I’m your target?” he rasps. “Who took the hit out?”
“You know as well as I, we just take orders,” I lie, shrugging.
“And you know as well as I that you’re a nosey fuck!” he tosses back.
Touché. If I didn’t recognize Putnam’s voice, I would have looked into it immediately. I don’t blindly work for anyone.
I can’t help but crack the fuck up. God, this kid is hilarious.
I feel like in a different life we could have been great friends.
I could teach him how to disembowel someone in under ten seconds, and he could lighten the fuck up.
Seriously, he takes this line of work too seriously.
I’ve never seen him crack a smile even once.
You know what they say: if you love your job, you never work a day in your life.
Oh well.
“It was your boss,” I say with a smirk. “Must have done something to piss him off. Then again, mine has gotten pissy if I didn’t answer on the first ring. Maybe you don’t deserve it, but business is business.”
He attempts to lift himself, but where would he even go? He’s not thinking rationally; he’s just desperate.
I reach down and yank the knife out of his stomach, allowing blood to run like a river from him before lifting it up.
“Nice knowing you, Griggs.”
“Please, Zayden!” he begs. “I got a girl,” he says with a wheeze. “She’s everything. Please. I can’t leave, not when she’ll be alone in this world.”
I couldn’t tell you what’s gotten into me.
Maybe it’s that I’m becoming a father any day now.
Maybe it’s that I can picture myself in his position, moments from death, wanting nothing more than just one more smell of Blake’s skin.
That’s the difference, though—I never would have gotten myself in his position. I don’t lose. Ever.
I plunge the knife into his rib cage, shoving it all the way in before twisting it, then cup his head and push my forehead to his as I speak.
“Say hi to your mom and dad for me, kid.”
With that, I rip the knife out of him, running the blood along my tongue as I watch him shake and gasp.
When I hear his phone ring in his pocket, curiosity gets the best of me and I fish it out, only to see a picture of a blonde girl with bright eyes smiling.
Fuck. She kinda looks like Blake. I mean, my angel is perfect in every way and a smoke show in comparison, but the girl is pretty.
I see what Griggs is all twisted up about.
I don’t want to say what I do next is fueled by a conscience because we all know I don’t have one. I tell myself it’s an investment for the future. Fuck, I don’t know.
I lean down, rip Griggs’s shirt apart and staunch the stab wounds the best I can before I toss his phone to the side and pull out my own. I put the call on speaker as I hold pressure on the kid.
“I need a room. No cops, no questions,” I say before lifting the kid into my arms and walking out of the warehouse.
“Got it,” the voice says on the other end before the line goes dead.
Looking down at Griggs, I figure I’ll give him this. A shot. If he makes it, he’ll earn it. If not, then the job is complete all the same.
I’m texting Blake good morning and that I’m sorry I’m not there to wake her up when Griggs stirs in the bed before me. I pocket my phone and lean forward to watch him. His eyes slowly lift, and when he sees me, he groans.
“You’re here. Means I didn’t make the cut for heaven.”
I smirk at that. “Are you surprised?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Laughing at that, I nod as I wait for him. He takes in his surroundings, the bandaging around his torso, the IV, the monitors and the secluded hospital room tucked away into a corner of the hospital no one will be able to come to thanks to my contact.
“You… saved me,” he says, more like a statement but with the hint of a question to it.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
I keep my mouth shut, mainly because I don’t know how to answer him. I think over what to say or how to say it before I stand, taking a few steps towards his bed before I tilt my head to the side.
“You’ve got potential. You needed to live for your girl, and now… now you owe me.”
“Owe you what?” he asks cautiously.
A wicked grin crosses my face. “Anything. A favor to be called in at anytime, anywhere, for anything. No questions asked.”
He seems to think it over before he looks to me.
“I’m assuming this is non-negotiable.”
I nod. “See what I said? Potential. We’ll be in touch, Griggs. Whenever the mood strikes,” I say as I begin moving to the door.
Before I step out, though, I pause.
“Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind taking out your boss, that would be great. I’ve already reported the job complete and have been compensated. I don’t need your little group coming after me for revenge.”
“You mean the Brethren?” he asks.
I shrug. “Whatever you guys want to call yourselves.”