CHICAGO BULLOCK (MXM)

Eighteen

It's been exactly three days since Chicago and Igor flew back to Brooklyn, with Chicago's new painting hanging on the hallway and Igor loved the sight of it. It now probably means more to the agent than it did to the owner. Chicago chuckled at the thought as he jumps onto Kevin Lanez's balcony. He had put off the job a little longer than he normally would and Vincent was not happy.

He fiddled with the door trying to clip it open with money clippers. He bit his bottom lip as he hummed to Sam Smith 'Unholy,' while still twisting and poking the clippers before pulling them as he heard the satisfying sound of the sliding door clicking. He got up, slipping his gun out of his pants, the silencer already in place. He walked into Kevin's bedroom, noting his slightly messy bed, a pile of clothes on the floor, a book left opened on the bed, with one empty bottle of beer rolling on the nightstand with another half-full bottle standing beside the empty one. The door leading out of the bedroom slightly ajar and the lights on the passage were lite.

He gasped when his gun was kicked off his hand. He spun around only to catch a fist right at the jaw, stumbling backward, to be kicked at the side making him fall to the ground. A loud groan left his lips when he was given a back handed slap across his left cheek, leading to him being scratched by the bronze ring Kevin wore on his right hand. Before Chicago could react two pair of hands strangled him as a huge man straddle him on the ground. Kevin was ripped. His arm so big they left Chicago overwhelmed by just the sight.

"Who the hell are you? Who the fuck sent you to my home?" His huge baritone voice vibrated in Chicago's ears.

Chicago squimmered as he tried to get Kevin off him, but the man was made of rocks. He tried to pry his fingers away from his neck as he was struggling to breath.

"Was it Bruce? That fuckin' cunt!" Kevin growled, tightening his grip around Chicago's neck.

Chicago gasped, his gaze falling to his boot. He took one of his hand away from Kevin's fingers, clearly trying to scratch the guy didn't work. He drew his leg nearer, thanks to Ryan who forced him years ago to work on flexibility saying it is a useful skill to have. At first Chicago thought it was useful in bed because wow, the moves he can make drove all his lovers insane. But today he realised fighting with a rock made being, his flexibility came in handy.

With his feet right beside his waist he pulled out a knife and flipped it open before shoving it on Kevin's side. The big man groaned loosening his grip on Chicago's neck. Chicago went on to stab him on his abdomen, making Kevin scoot away from him, clutching his wounds as he cries in pain. Chicago was a coughing mess himself as he gripped the neckline of his t-shirt, tears dripping off his eyes.

"You son of a bitch!" Kevin growled, gripping Chicago's ankle but Chicago was able to kick his hand away.

He scrambled off the ground as Kevin tried to stand up too, Chicago delivered a kick right at his temple, with a loud curse Kevin stumbled onto the ground. Chicago wasted no time in going for his gun. As soon as his fingers got hold of the gun, a big body flew onto his, and he fell face down, groaning at the impact. Chicago elbowed the man above him multiple times but Kevin was not bulging as he groaned and squimmered above Chicago but just refused to fall off him. Chicago was hating every minute he spent underneath this half naked man who was only in briefs.

"Tell Bruce he can't get rid of me this easily," he huffed and panted as he gripped Chicago's hair in a tight grip.

Chicago growled in pain, trying to pry his hand with the gun from underneath him. Once he had managed, he shot Kevin on the thigh but the man only groaned still not getting off him. So, Chicago started pounding at his wound with the back of his gun. It took about five pounds before Kevin actually fell off him, crying and groaning in pain.

Chicago got on his feet and turned to look at Kevin who was clutching at his thigh, his dark eyes looking at Chicago in pain, anger, and a silent plea to spare his life. Chicago panted, aiming his gun at Kevin's head.

"I curse Bruce too," he spat bitterly, before pulling the trigger and Kevin hit the ground with a loud thud.

Chicago breathed heavily, leaning on his knees as his throat pulsed bitterly. He hated kills like this. They reminded him that he too is human and can be killed.

Once he had gathered some strength, he left Kevin's mansion the same way he had come in. The moment he got into his car, Chicago felt untouchable as if he had conquered something big. Every kill Chicago made took away from his soul any ounce of humanity that might still be left and he knew it. But there was nothing that can stop him. No one that can save him. It saddened his heart to gain that revelation but at the same time, it comforted him to know he had nothing to lose.

With all his thoughts of triumph and being unstoppable, it did not hinder him from pausing dead track by the door of his apartment once he had entered. Igor was sitting on the couch facing the door, drinking a bottle of beer. He slowly entered and closed the door as he saw Igor's eyes scrutinizing him as always whenever he got home late at night and he was there.

Then Igor shot out of his seat, hastily placing the bottle on the table before taking huge strides toward Chicago.

"What happened to you?" Igor asked his thumb caressing the scratch on Chicago's cheek. His voice was laced with two visible emotions, worry and anger.

Chicago winced jerking his head back making Igor to worry even more.

"Just got into a stupid fight," he grumbled, moving past Igor.

Igor nodded even though the worry did not leave his eyes.

"I guess we need to postpone our plans then," he said.

Chicago stopped abruptly by the kitchen, turning slowly around.

"What plans?" He asked.

Igor laughed waving his hand dismissively.

"It's a surprise. Just know that it is in New York, and first impressions last," he said before going to sit on the couch.

Chicago's frown deepened as he got more confused.

"First impressions?"

"That is all you are getting from me, Cago," he chuckled.

Chicago walked back to the living room and straddled Igor as he sat on top of him, capturing his face in his hands making their gaze to lock.

"Tell me, what plans? What if I don't like the surprise?"

"And you might not," Igor declared worriedly.

"You see? It's best to tell me!"

"I'd rather face the consequences than to hear a blunt no," he informed.

Chicago dropped his hands and stared at Igor, he too now was worried. What the hell did Igor have planned? He hesitantly hummed and got off Igor heading to the bedroom to freshen up. But his mind was still trying to figure out as to what exactly did Igor plan that he might not like.