The Hitman

The Betrayal

Nick Sievers' POV

"Sievers?" Aldridge asked, her eyes like those of a kicked puppy. "Would you really do this?"

I shrugged. "After all you did to me, why not? You ruined my life. You ruined my reputation. And you're asking me to second-guess myself?"

The man who had held the gun to Aldridge's head backed away to stand guard by the door. He crossed his arms and leaned back casually, interested in the exchange.

But Aldridge's eyes were on me the entire time. "Look, Nick-"

"So now it's Nick? When you need something from me?"

Aldridge opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it. She lowered her head and sighed.

"Do it," she whispered, barely audible. Her head hung nearly limp, her arms covered in scratches and blood. If it wasn't for the rapid movement of her chest, I would have sworn she was dead.

"Sorry?" I asked, a sadistic smile spreading across my lips.

"Do it, I said! God, what don't you understand about that?" the director shouted. She glared at me.

"Do what?" I was rather enjoying this.

"Whatever you're...." she faltered. "Whatever you're planning on doing. Get it over with." Her gaze met mine, blue eyes like marbles of steel. The rapid, shallow breaths she took where the only things that gave away her nervousness.

I shook my head. "It's a shame, you know. Under different circumstances, we may have even become friends. Accomplices."

"I would never tangle with your likes."

"My likes?" I chuckled. "You of all people, a woman directing the FBI, should understand that stereotypes are unfair." I took a step toward her. "We're not all that bad."

Shouts echoed behind me and then thuds as bodies crashed to the floor. The man who had stood guard at the door, along with the other two men with empty guns, were lying on the floor. From the light the hallway cast, I could make a figure.

A woman.

Anderson. She held a gun, pointing it at me cautiously. Distrust filled her eyes. I put my hands up. "Woah there, darling. Calm down. I'm just freeing Aldridge."

Aldridge opened her mouth to protest, but I shook my head infinitesimally. She closed it and swallowed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

I grabbed a knife off the man passed out on the floor. I moved to stand behind Aldridge and deftly cut away the ropes.

Instantly, Aldridge tried to stand. But her legs faltered and I rushed to catch her, scooping her shaking body up in my arms.

"Why are you-?" she asked.

"You actually believed all that?" I responded.

"What else was I supposed to think?" Her eyes searched mine, questioning, looking for answers she would never find. Her fingers gripped the collar of my shirt as I held her to my chest.

"Rule number one: never trust a hitman's words."  I was actively aware of the shallow breaths she was taking. She was hurt. Hurt worse than she wanted to let on. I need to take her back to our room.

"Then how do I know I can trust you now?" she questioned.

"You can't trust anyone in this world, darling."

I suddenly realized our close proximity and looked away. "Here," I beckoned to Anderson, "help her."

The agent nodded and looped an arm around Aldridge. I set the FBI Director on the floor and stepped away.

"We need to move," Anderson murmured. "Vincent will be back any second."