Mickey's Diner
27/01/2016 10:30am

"Yeah, I'll have some pancakes with maple syrup and some blueberries, please." Annaliese smiled.

Mickey glowered at her then looked at Jake, who was sitting opposite her then to George, who was sat next to her.

"He's not the one that wrote on your wall." Jake was quick to say.

Mickey observed the youngest assassin with undisguised hostility, then stomped off to fulfill the order. Jake sighed and sipped his coffee.

"I heard a rumour that you guys bought some girl into the club." Jake chuckled.

"Yeah, it was the congressman's daughter." George replied.

"No way, you guys found her." Annaliese laughed.

"Well, John found her. I think he likes her so she's part of the family now." George said, shrugging.

"Does Vinnie know?" Jake asked.

Thoughts turned to Vinnie. He was a little boy acting like a man and Annaliese sighed. She had known for a long time that he would try and follow in his father's footsteps. Don Zazzi was a kind man, who loved his family, but didn't suffer fools lightly. Vinnie was like a child, stamping his feet and ordering everyone around.

"Don Acerbi tried to talk him out of the whole congressman thing." Jake said, taking another gulp of coffee.

"And that went about as well as could be expected." Annaliese said, her brows knitted together in annoyance.

"Omerta is omerta. There's nothing we can do now." George said, drinking his coffee.

Mickey reappeared with pancakes and set them in front of Annaliese. She smiled and said thank you. Mickey stalked off over to the corner booth where a couple of teens were sucking face.

"I'm surprised people eat here," Jake said, setting his cup down. "What with Mr. Ray of Sunshine over there."

"Me too and the coffee is awful," George sighed. He grinned then nudged Annaliese. SShe stood, letting him pass. George slid out the booth and Mickey looked round, clearly sensing someone had just skipped paying.

"I'll pay for the coffee." Jake reasoned with the Greek man when he came galloping over to their table.

Annaliese giggled and Jake shot her a look. She muffled her laughter and leaned over, patting his shoulder.

"Don't sweat the small stuff, dude."


**********************

GreenView Heights
27/01/2016 10:55am
Kacee POV

I had spent the last few days curled up the couch, watching tv and eating junk. I ordered my shopping online to be delivered so I wouldn't have to leave my safe place. That morning I'd got up and was shuffling around the appartment, tidying up. I was still wearing my PJs. I knew I ought to get dressed.

I paused when I heard a door opening and I waited for the worst, but nothing happened. Someone stopped outside my door. I could see the light disappear and a piece of paper was slid under my door. I glanced round and leaned forward, picking it up. It was folded in half and I opened it out.

Omerta doesn't mean you're our prisoner or anything, but lets be friends. Forget that we drugged you. We're not going to kill you, J.G.P.R.

Ok, that was an interesting way of looking at things. Forget that they'd drugged me. I sighed and turned the note over in my hands. They wanted to be friends. That was an odd request coming from a group of killers. I set the note down and got dressed. I brushed my teeth and went to my front door. Should I go over? Agree that we can be friends.

I unlocked my door and slid out into the hallway. I was met by silence and I shut my door, locking it as I did so. I paused in front of John's door, rapping on it. I stepped back, waiting. There were noises coming from inside. The door flew open and I was face-to-face with Paul.

"You read the note, I presume." He said, locking eyes with me.

"I did," I replied, fighting to keep the worry from my voice. "We can start over on two conditions."

George appeared next to him. He grinned then vanished into the bedroom and I heard him say, "Your girlfriend's at the door, mate."

"And those conditions would be?" Paul said, face becoming a mask of sternness.

"The first is that you never ever drug me again. The second is that I do not want to see you kill anyone." I snapped, trying to guard my tone.

"Kacee?" John had appeared and he rushed over, smiling.

"Anyways, I'll be going n-" I was cut off when he grabbed me, hugging me.

Despite feeling a little embarrassed, I hugged back. He was warm and I could smell that distinctive aftershave. The logical side of my brain told me to run, but the dreamy side was so happy and girly at the moment. I never wanted to let go.

"Get a room." George groaned.

"You could hang out with us today." John pulled back.

I didn't want to miss the chance to really get to know a group of assassins. This seemed like a once in a lifetime chance. I smiled weakly and nodded. John grinned and stepped away from me. He went over to the large, panelled thing and pressed one of the buttons. He removed one of the guns and my eyes went wide. He pulled the back off and nodded, securing it with a click.

"W-why do you have that?" I asked.

"Lets play a game." Paul grinned.

A game? They said they wouldn't kill me, but that doesn't exempt me from target practice. Ringo was sat on the couch. He looked up and sighed.

"At least tell her what you're planning. She looks scared." He said, standing and wandering over.

I was dragged from the appartment and we drove out of town to a deserted junk yard. It dawned on me that this wasn't anything to worry about. I was still a little panicked. John wandered over to me, stopping in front of me.

"We won't always be around to protect you." He murmured.

"We stuck our necks out for you the other day." George said, sitting on a car bonnet.

They were supposed to deliver me to that 'Vinnie' guy and they had failed to do so. Would he come looking for me? I was filled with terror at the thought. John raised the gun and pointed it, glancing over at some bottles, then back to me. He squeezed the trigger and hit the bottle perfectly, smashing it.

"That was incredible." I smiled for the first time. Onc glance had confirmed the target and one shot had destroyed it. Even my Dad would be envious of those skills.

"Your turn." He said, handing me the gun.

"Me?" I whispered, and he shrugged.

I accepted the gun and turned to face the bottles. I aimed at a large one, hoping for the same luck. My palms were slick and I could feel my hands shaking as I gripped the gun. I squeezed the trigger and shot. The bullet hit a car bonnet that was stacked across the way and ricocheted off it. I was knocked to the ground as the bullet went flying by, striking the ground.

"Well, that was a bit crap, wasn't it?" Ringo said, glancing at me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hit any of you, did I?" I panicked, and this served to make each of them smile.

"Nope, we're all intact. It's funny how you care so much, though." Paul said.

It was funny that I was bothered by death and the pain of hurting a living, breathing human and I started to feel a little queasy again.

"So, is this like training?" I asked.

"Sort of like insurance." George smiled.

I was a risk. What kind of punishment would they face if this Vinnie person knew what they'd done.

"What about Vinnie?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, him. He's just a kid." John sighed.

I nodded and glanced at the bottles again. John side-stepped towards me, following my line of sight.

"You want to hit one?" He asked.

"N-no." I shot back, but it didn't look like he believed me.

He rolled his eyes and stepped behind me, grasping my hands, raising the gun again. His long fingers were coiled round my own and anchored me. I could feel him behind me. I squeezed the trigger and actually managed to hit a bottle. A feeling of elation rose in me. He stepped back, stuffing his hands into his skinnie jean pockets.

"I hit it. Did you see?" I grinned.

"Yeah, you're like a proper cowboy. Ashley would be so proud." Paul laughed.

"Ashley?" I asked.

"He's a friend." Was the answer I got.

We stayed there for a while longer even though I still struggled to knock the bottles down. I handed the gun back, glancing at them.

"So, are you guys really dangerous?" I asked, curiously.

"Yeah, I guess. We were trained by a man named Marco." Ringo said.

"Marco?" I repeated.

"He's dead now."

I almost felt the air leave my lungs. A man strong enough to train assassins had died, so what hope was there for them.

"Don't worry he died of natural causes." George reassured me. "Heroin addiction."

Heroin addiction certainly wasn't a natural cause. I followed them and we drove back into town. The other three left and I was left with John. I walked next to him. I was oddly happy to be on my own with him now.

"All assassins have nicknames." He told me.

"And yours is?" I asked.

"We're the four headed demon." He replied.

It made a lot of sense. I slid closer to avoid being knocked over by a woman with a stroller. My arm brushed against his and our hands touched. I had this longing desire to hold his hand, but I didn't want to seem presumptious. I was a little shocked when his hand clasped mine, interlocking our fingers. My eyes shot up to look at him.

"This what you wanted?" He asked.

"I-um." I fumbled a little.

"Be honest, the fact that I'm a gun-toting badass turns you on, right?" John smirked then.

"Get over yourself, you ego-maniac." I laughed.

We carried on walking back to the appartment. I smiled, despite the unusual situation.

Notes