Hitman: Captured | #1 - HIATUS

► Chapter 12

"Stop fucking crying and hurry up!" Neil yells.

I flinch, clenching my jaws together as I swallow down the thick knot in my throat and blink away the tears blurring my vision. My hands trembles, zipping up the bag of weapons while Neil is on the other side of the room destroying the computer. Inhaling a shaky breath, I stand up from the squatting position, throwing the strap of the bag over my shoulder.

Clearing my throat, I wipe the tears from my flushed cheeks, taking a deep breath again to sooth the nerves in my body. The pain in my chest increases at the notion of my best friend for years could be dead, his little brother, and even his parents could be dead. All because I was stupid enough to send an email—so desperate to have a taste of my life back.

My head is spinning around all over the place, warping my grasp on reality as I find myself wallowing in so many possibilities of what happened or what could happen from here on out. I know Neil is angry at me and I would be angry at myself too—no—I am angry at myself. Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to send an email in the first place?

I rake a hand through my hair, ignoring the painfully tremoring leg when I take a step toward the blonde hair Hitman. "Neil, I'm done." My voice comes out croaked, scowling at myself at always crying. It's not like I was made for this, I wasn't prepared for things like this the way Neil was and I don't know how to handle it aside from letting a professional handle it.

It fills me with anxiety thinking that if something were to happen to Neil, how would I survive? Despite knowing how to handle a gun, I don't use it on people and I sure as hell didn't want to. All of this is suffocating me as it dawns on me further that I can't choose. I want to live, I want to be able to see my family again, I want to be able to see Brian and Christopher again but knowing what I had done could have killed Brian makes me think again.

What's the point in sparing the lives of the men hunting me down when they don't think twice about hurting the people I care about? What's the point in caring for their family when they don't care about how my family would feel with my death?

A part of me can't do it. Killing is wrong. It is still taking a life. No one has the right to play God and choose who can live or die to their liking. No one deserves to die except there are people who do. People who have hurt others, tore family apart, massacred without batting an eye or feel an ounce of remorse. The other part of me knows if I have to choose between my life and the one pointing the gun at me, I will choose myself.

Those people are Mafia. They don't care who I am, they don't care how important I can be to someone as long as they're doing what they're told. They clearly would go to any length possible to make sure I die—even hurting those I love and I can't handle that. If one day Neil can no longer kill to protect me, I will have to start taking lives to protect mine. To protect my family.

"Tutto per la famiglia." Everything for the family.

"Let's get out of here," Neil's tone is cold, monotonous. I nod my head even though he can't see it with his back facing me; his silver handgun tucked in the waistline of his sweatpants. His toned back tenses as he swirls to face me, honey hazel eyes narrow; my breathing hitches in fright, hurrying toward the stairs—disregarding the series of tingles coursing through my thigh causing my muscles to twitch and spasm.

I can barely climb the first step without losing strength, using the handrail for support to ascend the stairs while feeling Neil's burning gaze on my back. Pushing away the sense of shame, I finally reach the top of the stairs and push open the door; as soon as I do my leg no longer functions causing me to almost hit the floor if Neil didn't catch me.

His muscular arm around my abdomen, noticing how easy his long limb can encircle my torso making me feel smaller. Helpless. He doesn't say anything, simply closes the door and helps me walk to the door of the house and hauls it ajar for us to head to the driveway where a red Toyota waits for us. At this point Neil doesn't seem to care, hurrying to it until my ass is sitting on the passenger seat and the door slams shut at my face.