Taylor Reese knew how to stay alive.
That was what he was good at; he'd been training since he was 14 years old. It was the year he decided he was going to be the toughest guy around by making his way up to 500 street fights. He came up with the idea after his father died; was shot and killed by a soldier from another mafia family. His old man getting killed like that struck him with fear and rage and it was the best he could do... Learn how to stay alive. To not let what happened to his father, happen to him.
By the time he was 28, he could kick anyone's ass. It didn't matter who they were. He'd fought 500 people and learned plenty along the way. Enough to make him nearly invincible. He used his fists, his head, his knees, his elbows. Anything to show the town that he wasn't someone to be messed with. That he would destroy you if you ever even looked at him the wrong way. There was no getting passed him. No one would even think of killing him.
Taylor Reese knew how to stay alive.
Well, up until Matty Demaret was about to get shot.
Suddenly everything Taylor ever trained for went out the window. Staying alive was no longer a concern; no, his only concern, was saving Matty. For the first time in his life, he didn't care about his own survival. For the first time in his life, he didn't care if he died. He was willing to give it all away, if it meant Matty would be able to live on. He was willing to leave his mom behind, willing to leave all of New York behind. Willing to die there, on the cold cement floor. Willing to allow another man's bullets to pierce through him and bleed him to death...
If it meant Matty would live to see another day.
The End.
