twenty eight

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LET YOU DOWN

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LET YOU DOWN.
chapter twenty eight.

ONCE UPON A TIME, Lane rode around the streets of LA on his motorcycle, Hunter hanging onto him tight as the wind lapped at their hair, a smile on her face as her laugh echoed in his ear at some joke he told over the roar of the engine

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ONCE UPON A TIME, Lane rode around the streets of LA on his motorcycle, Hunter hanging onto him tight as the wind lapped at their hair, a smile on her face as her laugh echoed in his ear at some joke he told over the roar of the engine.

They never had a place to go, simply opting to roll down the paved roads together and see what they could find whether it be a impromptu ice cream stand or joining in on a water balloon fight in the park.

But that wasn't today, in fact, that was a long time ago.

Now, Hunter had the black helmet and leather jacket on securely as she used it to hide her identity. It was clear people were on the look out for her but she pretended to be normal. That's the key to being a ghost, acting as if you belong eventually leads to people believing you belong. That was her key underage drinking in a town where everyone knew each other.

She should have felt something. Something in her chest or stomach. Maybe nerves or anticipation. But she felt nothing. Her mind and body seemed blank as she sped towards Athena Grant's house. Perhaps, her lack of nerves was how she managed to be so stable in a time like this.

She saw him before he saw her. T. Solotov. Black jeans and a black jacket as he sat in the front seat of his SUV parked down the road. He looked different than she last remembered, older obviously, but it was more than that. It seemed he had changed, no more was he the scared doctor but rather he was an egotistical assassin and his face showed it.

Solotov exited his car as he watched Hunter enter the neighborhood on the motorcycle, coming from behind his car. By the time she had parked, he was in front of the house.

Hunter strode to him, the tan M17 pulled out into her grasp from its spot in the holster on her hip.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he spoke, opening the front of his jacket and holding up his right hand high enough for her to see. Hunter's face dropped even further. A dead man's switch, his thumb on the pressure trigger.

𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣. Evan Buckley ²Where stories live. Discover now