Till Deceived Do We Part

I was shaking. Shaking to the point of convulsing. Logically, I should pull over; stop. Even I knew that, and even I was considering that, but I didn’t. Part of my mind just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t admit that the confrontation at the base had me rattled. I couldn’t admit that the little girl buried deep down in me, wanted to turn back. To head to the man who raised me, to not upset him. But I couldn’t. That would be admitting I was wrong, and admitting defeat. And I couldn’t let Zane down. I just couldn’t.

The heat was cranked, but it didn’t matter. My teeth were chattering, and my body was shaking, and no matter how much artificial air was pumped around me, I was still going to be cold. For it was a deep down feeling; a deep down, gut wrenching cold dread slinking through me.

The road was dark and musky, due to the clouds, but not dark enough for me to pull over. But then, was anything bad enough for me to pull over? My self conscious just wouldn’t allow it, and I didn’t argue it. For I didn’t know what Jake had up his sleeve. I know he cares for me, but the question is, how much? To the extent of chasing and hunting me down? Or to the extent of doing all he can, but in the end, letting me make my own decisions? I didn’t know, and that was another reason for the shaking. I just couldn’t go up against Jake. I couldn’t.

If he ever confronted me, if he ever challenged me, I don’t know what I’d do. Fight, probably. But in the end? If by some miraculous reason, some unfathomable account, I won, what would I do? The thought of pulling the trigger against Jake sent a chill so deep through me, that this time, I did pull over, the brakes screeching way too loud for my liking.

My door swung open before I could stop myself, and I toppled out. Before I could control my emotions and get myself in check, vomit sprayed from my mouth. My body shook and heaved, and I found myself shaking again. Uncontrollably again.

My throat burned, my eyes shut, and I let myself shake. My fists clenched, the one instinctively reaching for my gun. It reached the cool metal, and instead of the usual reassurance it gave me, it filled me with dread.

Darkness clouded my mind, and I felt the breath whoosh out of me. My mouth gaped, my eyes squeezed shut as the sickness rolled through me.

Feelings slammed into me, as if the wall I had worked so hard to build had suddenly crashed down. With a bang, they hit me. Sadness. Despair. Confusion. Fear.

They rolled together, burning through my system. My body doubled over, my hands clutching my stomach. I gasped, but no air came in. I was dying. I was slowly dying as the fear held me in an iron grip. Why was I afraid? Why was I so afraid? I didn’t have anything else to lose. Zane was gone. I had left Jake. And it’s not like I had a family. Dane would hate me once he knew the truth. And... and... I had no one else.

I never had many people to watch over me, and I grew up with the thought that I didn’t need it. That I had an iron shield that kept me impenetrable from everything else, from all pain and hurt. I grew up thinking that I was in the lead, that I had nothing to fear. For what could harm me? What could break the great Drake? The name that struck fear into thugs hearts?

Attachment. Attachment broke me. Attachments I hadn’t even noticed I had built until it was too late. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to grow them, for in my field, it was a dangerous thing to do. It always backfired, and I was living that right now. I was the living of example of what not to do. And what was I doing? When I should be heading for the hills to ride the tide out, to wait ‘till the storm blew over, what was I doing? I was diving head first into the freezing ocean water. I was committing suicide. And I knew it. I just couldn’t stop myself.

I used to think I had no weakness, besides that of either my anger or ego. Lincoln and Dalton knew differently. They knew me better than I did, and that terrified me so deep, that I couldn’t see clear; couldn’t think clearly. The men who had murdered my family, had destroyed any life I had been planned on having, knew me better than myself. That was wrong and just plain sick.

I don’t know what I had planned for myself, and I don’t know if I regret what happened. For in killing my family, Lincoln and Dalton had created a deadly threat. A threat they thought they could toy with. It was working, but not for long. I didn’t care if I died anymore, because deep down, in that cold that kept growing, I knew Zane was dead.

Maybe not now. Maybe he was still hanging on. But in a couple hours? In a day? In a week? He’d be dead. I knew it. And I also knew I couldn’t do anything about it, not by myself anyways. I was sure as hell going to try, and bring down as many of their men as I could with me, but did I actually think I could get him free? No. Nor did I think I would live. It just didn’t matter anymore.

Nothing mattered.

I must have lost it. I’m sure I had. Because no where in a million years, did I think I would have ask someone for such a huge favour. I didn’t do that. If I needed something, I got it done myself. I did it, that way there were no ties to be knotted up. It was all on me, and no loose ends ever remained. That was how I worked, and while some assassins at the base thought otherwise, that was the general conduct. We do the work. We do the research. We do the plans and set up. And we take the fall, if need be. That was the circle of our hits. And basically, the circle of our lives.

When I saw his headlights, and the figures obscuring them, I immediately felt a surge of foreboding. I shouldn’t be doing this. It just wasn’t done. I wanted to keep driving and ignore it; but I couldn’t.

I trusted him as much as I could trust anyone nowadays, so when I pulled up behind his SUV, I tried not to grip my gun too tightly. I let out a deep breath, took a quick glance in the mirror, then got out. My hair was in place, mt eyes were focussed, and my mouth was smelling minty fresh. All moments of the road side were being wiped away, and I was carefully building the wall up again. It wouldn’t break.

“Andrayka,” his voice was sober, which I took as a blow to the stomach. What had Isaiah sober? Had him serious? It didn’t matter.

“Is it-?”

“Yes. Confirmed five minutes ago. It’s ready to go.” I stared at him. If someone had asked me a day ago whether I would take a favour from a bar owner, and occasional drug user, I would have laughed in their faces. But here I was. And here he was.

“Good. The information?” He stared at me, this time. His eyes were sad, almost downcast, his eyes not seeming to want to meet mine. In most cases, I would have assumed I was being played, but I knew better. Isaiah was nervous. He didn’t like this part, but it had to be done.

“Drake, you know you don’t have to-“

”I won’t take a favour and not return it. I want this over with now.”

“I would never call you on i-“

”Not the point. The information?” It didn’t take much research to figure out that Isaiah was in the need of a hit pulled. He had been sending out subtle messages, not wanting his own bodyguards to do the deed, but he hadn’t gone head into the search yet. Isaiah was helping me out more than I could thank him for, and that scared me. So I did what I knew how to do; offered to kill. He denied, of course. But I had insisted over the phone. I wasn’t going to leave a favour un-accounted for. Even if there was a chance I wouldn’t be alive to do it.

One of his three bodyguards with him, handed me a dark folder. I didn’t open it. I already knew the basics, and that’s what mattered. The rest of the information would go in one ear, and out the other right now. I was in no state to take anything in.

“Andrayka. We may not have a professional standing together, or have the most loving relationship,” I glowered, he smiled sheepishly, “but I fear and respect you. I don’t double cross anyone who has both of those from myself. When I can help, I do. As I am proving. You have no need to compensate.”

“Yes I do. You should know this, Isaiah. Never leave anything left. Either kill your help, or pay off the favour.” He knew this. He was in a shady business himself. He just didn’t want to admit it. Isaiah had many faults, but strangely, he seemed to be an honest man when it came to me.

I turned. I didn’t need any more human contact right now, than I had to have. His arm shot out for mine, and without thought, without hesitation, I had my gun to his head. Which resulted in three guns pointed at me.

Isaiah met my eyes, his eyes now shadowed. No fear lay in them, though, even with a gun pointed at his face.

“Let. Go. Of. Me.” I ground out each word, my hand not wavering. I ignored the guards on me, for all were waiting for an order from Isaiah.

“Remember how I mentioned tombs?” No. Not at first, anyways. But as I strained to remember, it came. It seemed like so long ago. “There’s an old graveyard down some of the back roads. It leads to an old warehouse which has recently, by an unknown buyer, been bought. Electricity bills are already through the roof.” He paused. “Due to an electric fence. Security is to the max. Yet, it has been said to not be re-opening. Due what you wish with that information,” he added, almost hastily, as if expecting someone to jump out and shoot him, “but I thought it may help.” I stared at him, before lowering the gun. His hand left my arm, and I stepped back out of reach. The three beefy guards all lowered their guns, at a nod from Isaiah.

“What happened to having to be questioned?” His head lowered, and his hands shoved into his pockets. Instinctively, again, I tensed. I shut my eyes for a quick second and opened them, letting out a breath. I was too jumpy. To anxious. I needed to calm down, and get in the zone. I wasn’t able to lose my cool now, I just couldn’t.

“Drake?” I met his eyes. They were full of fear, and oddly, that made me feel better. I wasn’t the only one afraid on this dreary day. “Things are getting bad. They want your base out of the picture, but they also want power. That means setting up in town... and taking down those already there.” He paused. “I’m one of them, Drake, whether you knew that or not.”

“Someone tried to kill you?” I asked, shock in my voice. I knew many people who wanted Isaiah dead, I was even on the list at times. But to actually hear him admit it, while showing fear, shocked me. This wasn’t Isaiah.

“No. Yes.” He rubbed a hand against his head. “They tried to lure me into my death, I didn’t bite.”

“Good.”

“But they did kill someone close to me, Drake. Someone who had done nothing wrong.” Now I understood. Isaiah was grieving. He had lost someone, just as I was. The only difference was, he was at the moving on part. For his someone was already dead. Mine wasn’t. He was dying. And that was worse; way worse.

“What do you want me to say to that, Isaiah?” He let out a small laugh.

“Nothing. I just wanted to let you know that this problem goes deep. It’s bigger than you thought. So don’t do anything stupid.” Touching. “And if you can, kill those bastards.” Relieving.

“I wish I could take them all down, Isaiah. But I can’t. However, I can guarantee a major causality tonight.”

“If your base can’t take them out, we’re screwed Drake. Hell,” he breathed, his hand going to rub his chin. I didn’t know why, but I let out a small bitter laugh. I should have kept it inside me, but some part of myself just had to let out my rage; just had to let at least one person know. And Isaiah was the only one on my side right now, so he got the bitterness.

“I’m out of the base, currently.” That got his attention, and a wave of pure fear that sent my senses reeling momentarily. “They’re running. Pulling back. Waiting.” I let out another bitter laugh. “Why do you think I needed the help, Isaiah? We have people at the base who specialize in what you did. But I have no resources. I’m on my own.” He just stared at me, his eyes slightly wide. “But you didn’t hear that.” I quickly added, already kicking myself for saying anything.

He nodded mutely, his eyes showing his panic.

“Be careful, Andrayka. I hope to someday work with you in the future.”