Hitman- / 'hit.mæn/
• a person who is paid to kill someone, especially for a criminal or political organization.
'THE EXECUTIONER' was a name that many people knew and feared but the ones who caught a glimpse, didn't live very long to t...
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Charming, California 2008
Angelise stared at Gemma in disbelief as her words took a moment to sink in. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she inhaled a shaky breath through her nose.
"What?" she let out hoarsely.
Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, she placed a hand over her racing heart and felt the tears welling up in her eyes before a sob escaped her lips and cried for her fallen friend.
Gemma quickly made her way toward her and engulfed her into a tight embrace, the two women clinging onto each other as they tried to comfort one another. Ted and LJ bowed their heads, to show respect toward the women grieving.
Exhaling a deep breath, Angelise pulled away from Gemma as she felt that familiar itch growing. Looking at her mother-in-law, she gestured her head down the hallway.
"Will you stay here with the baby?" she asked while wiping her tears. "I'll be right back."
LJ and Ted gave each other worried looks as they stood up from the couch. LJ was the one to block her path while looking into her haunting green eyes.
"Where are you going?" he questioned.
"To get answers," she responded.
Moving around him, she headed for the door but LJ's hand reached out to grab her arm. He turned her back in his direction and gave her a concerned look.
"Angel," he shook his head. "Don't do this, not when you just lost your friend and might not be in the right headspace."
"I need to do this," she explained. "I need to find out what he knows and the only way to do that, is to do what needs to be done."
A small pause filled the space between them as they stared each other down. Realizing that her mind was made up, he sighed before letting her go. Looking past his shoulder, she gave Ted and Gemma a look of reassurance before leaving the house and climbing into the impala.
It took her the usual hour to reach the cabin where Welsby was being held. Getting out of the car, she grabbed her duffle bag from the trunk before heading inside.
Tied up to the chair, on top of the tarp laid in the middle of the room, Welsby was still unconscious from the hit he took earlier in the day. Opening the bag, she pulled out her tool kit before sliding on a pair of gloves.
Walking toward his limp body, she stared him down before lifting her hand and landing a hard smack against his cheek, jolting him awake.
"You fucking bitch!" he seethed through clenched teeth.
"Shut up," she sneered as she bent down to look into his dark eyes. "You don't speak unless I tell you to, do you understand me?"
