Riot [On Hold]

Chapter 11

You always listened. But now you defy me.

The journey to Washington D.C was simple in explanation, but a lot harder to execute.

One might argue that a busy city means easy low-profile, but when your an accused serial killer on the run by the government, police and international Mafia it's not that simple if you're on the ground.

Don't trust anyone.

Which is exactly why I wasn't-for the most part.

Roy's contact had gladly hired us a helicopter that was to pick us up by the docks' communications building,which had a helipad situated at the top of it.

We got the top,hitched the ride and after a while,made it to the penthouse,which was wholesomely situated beneath a nightclub.

It was discreet, and a perfect place to hide for now.

Roy and I entered the place alongside Mark Stefan and two other men. We sat down in the sitting room and Mark poured a glass of whiskey for himself before turning to us.

"Roy,you asked us to hire you a penthouse,give you a low-profile check and to help you to put this little girl off the radar?" He snorted,smirking as I maintained a straight face,not wanting to escalate the situation.

Fucking bitch.

Calm down.

This was my one shot at getting away,I can't afford to make anymore enemies intentionally.

"I'm surprised. She's tougher than she looks,up in the news two days ago and yet she's still alive." He looked at me,before handing me a business card.

"We're a sub organisation of the secret service: The Unknown. Roy told us that you were in an extensive situation,would you care to tell us?"

I stared at the floor,fiddling with my hands before looking up at him, right into his eyes.

He has no children,no wife,was orphaned at the age of 4. Joined the secret service and still remains part of their group. Has never negotiated with the Italian Mafia. Is not a threat as of yet.

I sighed.

What's their deal with taking in orphans?

"I'm a runaway from a big dog," I stated simply, " to put it in words,a little ID isn't going to do much to help my situation."

Roy turned to me, and then to Mark and his men.

"She's running."

"Running from what,may I ask?" Mark retorted,eyeing me.

I eyed his men, looking for any danger.

Nothing.

Say one word and make the deal straight.

"The mafia."

They all turned to me,their eyes filled with shock.

Mark cleared his throat, eyeing me before turning to his men.

"How deep are you in this thing?" One of the men asked me,handing me a gun.

I stared at them,my eyes hard.

"I'm their spawn.Their bloodline."

Roy turned to me, giving me a what the actual heck look plastered right on his face.

Your weaknesses must be eliminated.

Mark Stefan handed some files towards me, paperwork for another safehouse in Arizona,a private jet and a four-wheel drive.