Page 2 of White Wings of Desire

I push myself off the ground. I’m a pro, just like they are. I know how to fight, and if that’s what they want, they can have it. Holding my pistol tightly, I walk out of my bedroom with slow, calculated steps, heading to my apartment’s entryway. I reach for the handle and pull on the door, which remains shut. No one has forced their way in while I was in my bedroom.

I turn to face the living room down the hall. I know I shouldn’t go back there; every fiber of my being is screaming for me to run, to listen to my flight instinct, but I know better. Running will only give him more options. Now, he has a time limit because his little stunt couldn’t have gone unnoticed.

The moment I step through the door frame of my living room, the red dot appears, this time not aiming directly at me, but at the wall next to me. I can’t see much through the cracked glass; I can barely make out which balcony the light is coming from. If the dot is still there, it means he’s still in that building, not on his way here. To test my theory, I take a step away from the dot. And as expected, it follows me, though it keeps its distance. I turn my attention back to the broken windows.

What are you planning to do now?

“Are you really telling me that you don’t know who’s after me?” I ask, my voice filled with desperation.

“I really don’t know.” Riley’s voice comes from the phone in my hand.

I let out a frustrated groan and slump back into the soft cushions of my sofa. I rub my eyes through my closed lids. “And you’re sure you haven’t heard any rumors going around?” I ask her again. I can’t believe she hasn’t heard anything. She is the best when it comes to gathering information and yet she knows nothing about something as important as this.

“No, as I already told you, no one has been talking about you since you left,” she says, her tone insistent. “No one from our group and no one from the others.”

I open my eyes and tilt my head to the side, turning my attention from the ceiling to the broken windows. The red light disappeared just moments before the police arrived. Whoever was over there held out until the very last moment. A bold move, and since I got rid of the cops, no one has come to get me. I turned on the notifications for my security camera just in case, but I think they have given up for tonight. At least, I hope so.

“If no one from the groups is looking for me, then…” I pause momentarily, letting the sentence drag on without me. “It must be someone working alone.” I push myself off the sofa and walk over to the windows, placing my hand flat against the cracked glass.

“That was my first guess, as well.”

“Do you happen to have a list of all the people who work independently?”

“Not really, we only have superficial information. From what you described; it could literally be anyone. But I’ll bet everything I have that it is a man; not doing his homework, not checking to see if his target has bullet-resistant glass, especially when he is planning such a stunt on a fellow killer? That can only happen with men.” Riley chuckles on the other end of the line.

She is right; that little failed stunt screams ‘man.’ But aside from that fatal mistake, what stood out was his precision. I have never seen anyone do what that sniper did tonight, the way he was able to time his shots. Then again, I have never met anyone who works alone, as they tend to stay away from jobs that could potentially involve someone from one of the crime groups. But even then, someone with that skill must have caught someone else’s attention who could have reported it. I’ve been out of the business for a full year. There could be new killers that we don’t know about and that have had very few jobs so far.

“All right, keep me updated if you hear anything.”

“Of course, I will try to gather some information. Until then, Evelyn, please watch your back.”

A small smile finds its way to my lips despite all the chaos and frustration of the situation. “Thanks, you too, Riley,” I say before pressing the red button that cuts the call.

I close my eyes and lean my head against the cold window, feeling the small cracks against my skin. Opening my eyes, I step away from the window, and my attention lands on one of the bullets stuck in the glass; carefully, I place a finger against the small metal nub.

I need to get these replaced as soon as possible.

Chapter 2

Noah

I push myself away from the rifle and run my gloved fingers through the messy strands of my hair, attempting to calm the raging frustration shooting through my veins.

“That stupid bitch,” I yell out loud.

Why did no one bother telling me she has bullet-resistant windows? It’s crucial information that my fucking client should have mentioned in the report I received beforehand. They refused to hire my full services, convinced me they had all the information I would need, and assured me that all I had to do was pull the trigger. Yet here I am with my target still alive, safely tucked away in her apartment.

My pulse quickens at the rising rage inside me. I should not have trusted them. I should have questioned the hefty pay for such a simple request. Never, and I mean never, let someone who has no idea what they are doing handle such an important part of a job. I guess I needed to be reminded of that the hard way. They will have to pay me for my wasted time. I didn’t bring anything to deal with this situation from a distance–like the right ammunition to deal with bullet-resistant glass. The only option for me right now is to pack up and go over there and kill her with my bare hands. There is just one small problem.

Making sure the mask on my turtleneck is still in place, covering the lower half of my face, I turn to face the dark apartment behind me. On the floor, in the middle of the small living room, lay a man and a woman, tied at their hands and feet, as well as blindfolded and gagged to keep them from screaming for help.

I don't know how long it will take me to get over there, force my way into the apartment, and kill her; it will probably take longer, considering I have a feeling she'll fight back now that she's expecting me. If I pursue this option, it will most likely give these two enough time to free themselves, call the police, and let them know exactly what is going on. Right now, the police will show up eventually, but they will be overwhelmed at first.

"You stay where you are!" I yell at the man as he struggles against his restraints, trying to free himself.

My attention shifts back to my rifle; leaning forward, I hover over the scope again, quickly locating her, not aiming directly at her, just observing her. My eyes land on the pistol she’s holding. With that, any chance of doing it by hand falls flat, it would simply take too long to deal with her. I follow her, keeping my distance as she maneuvers through her apartment, her focus on the dot that keeps following her. Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not gonna shoot again.

I watch her with great interest as she tucks the pistol into the waistband of her tight leggings. Every movement is calculated, every subtle facial gesture gives her away. She’s nervous, as she should be. Her attention darts back and forth, stealing glances at the front door of her apartment. She must be waiting for someone to burst in and finish her off. Rest assured, you are all mine. I'm the only one who will lay hands on you. I'm the one you'll be looking at when you take your last breath. My heart flutters at the thought of her beautiful face, painted with panic when her life slips away.

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