I'm jumping ahead in time a little bit here to get things moving. Don't forget that Part II will be covering more past events, so stay tuned.

Songs that inspired this chapter:

The Beast by Johann Johannsson

Precious Cargo Intro by James Edward Barker & Tim Despic

1984

Montana, U.S.

Rita's first memory she could recall was of her father poking his head around the wall at her and smiling followed by him picking her up and holding her close, telling her how much he loved her. She reflected on how safe that feeling was, knowing he was always there. She was over four years old now, and she was trying to contain her excitement as her nine year old brother, Simon, stood on the counter and reached for the cookie jar. He'd promised to give her one if she kept watch for their mother.

"I got it," he said eagerly, pulling out five cookies and putting the jar back. He clambered down and gave her two.

"Why do you get three?" she asked, whining.

"Because I'm older, and it was my idea."

"But..."

Simon disappeared before she could say anything more. She took a bite of her cookie as she walked to her room. Her mother was somewhere in the house, unaware of the theft that had just taken place. Rita understood that Carol was her aunt turned step-mother, that her real mother was in Heaven. She had her picture on her bedside table. Rita felt sad sometimes knowing she didn't know anything about her. She didn't understand much about Heaven, but her daddy said it was an amazing place, so that made her feel happy that her mother was safe.

"Rita?" Carol asked, stopping her in her tracks. The incriminating cookie was still in her hand, the first one still in her mouth half-chewed.

"Mph?" Rita asked around the cookie in her mouth.

"Where did you get that?"

Rita just shook her head. She didn't want Simon to get in trouble. When Simon got in trouble, he was mean to her. That was the confusing thing about her brother. He could be fun and played with her and made her laugh, and then he could be angry and hurt her. He was careful how he hurt her, though. No one saw anything, and if they did, they chalked it up to her playing in the yard and hurting herself. She didn't know any better to correct them.

"Rita," Carol said again, her tone a warning.

"I got it from the jar," Rita answered after swallowing. Carol crossed her arms and gave her a look. Rita's brain was able to understand that her step-mother didn't believe her for a second.

"Simon!" Carol called. Rita felt scared. When he appeared moments later, he scowled at her. She tried to hide the cookie in her hand, but Carol snatched it from her.

"What?" Simon asked.

"Did you give your sister this?" Carol demanded.

"No, and she's not my sister."

"Simon," Carol sighed. "I know she's not able to climb up to the cookie jar. I know you did it. Don't lie to me."

"Fine," he said. "I did it." Rita could feel his anger swelling off him now. She cringed inside. She knew something was going to happen to her later.

"Then you're gonna have to sit in the corner for a bit and think about what you've done," Carol instructed, "and then you're gonna do the barn chores by yourself tonight." Simon glared at Rita before going to sit on the stool. Rita swallowed, feeling anxious.

"And you, missy," Carol said, looking back at her. "You were obviously an accomplice, so you get to sit on your bed and do nothing for an entire hour. You're going to bed early tonight too, got it?"

An hour was a very long time, and Rita dreaded it, but she nodded in understanding.

"Taking without asking is stealing," Carol went on, looking sternly at both of them. "I won't let you be thieves when you grow up, so I'm sorry if you feel this punishment is harsh, but you'll know better than to do it again."

"Yes, Mama," Rita said. Her brother said nothing still. She felt Simon's eyes boring into her back as she walked away.

She felt very afraid.

...

Lance was exhausted as he drove home. He pulled into the driveway and saw Rita racing around with one of the baby goats. It had been Carol's idea, getting another goat. Norma was about 5 years old now. Hank the donkey was 6 years old. Willow was also 6. The chickens came and went. Lance thought back often on how Rosie had built their little farm. When he'd met her six months after moving here, she'd talked about her dream of having some animals, and then they ended up with the little donkey almost a year and a half later followed by Willow, and it had grown from there. He wasn't a rancher like his neighbor, Kenny. He couldn't imagine running a ranch like that.

He'd been impressed when Carol was eager to keep their own little farm going despite his wanting to sell all the animals, but he knew it was her way of keeping a part of her sister alive. Hank had sensed it and had ignored him for a few days, but when it became clear they were all staying (minus the chickens when it came time), he'd come around again all friendly-like. The hardest one to be around was Willow. She was Rosie's favorite, and Lance had too many memories of watching Rosie ride her or brush her or just walk alongside her in the pen or on the trails. Rita, of course, had taken a huge interest in Willow, and he just knew she was going to have the same relationship with the horse that Rosie had when she was older and able to ride her and help look after her.

"Daddy!" Rita shouted, running towards him. He got out of the car and bent to pick her up. He loved the feel of her in his arms after a long day at work.

"Hey, you," he said, kissing her cheek heartily. "How was your day?"

"I helped Simon steal cookies and got in trouble," Rita answered truthfully. Lance bit down his laughter. It was hard, sometimes, to not laugh at the things his daughter got up to that were deemed "trouble."

"I see," he said. He saw Simon now, working alone doing the chores. He suspected that was Carol's punishment for him. There was a darkness around this boy that unsettled him at times. It was in his eyes. Lance was pretty sure he got it from Greg.

"I had to sit on my bed forever and have to go to bed early."

"Okay," he said.

"Hi, you," Carol said, appearing and coming to hug and kiss him, squishing Rita between them and making her giggle. Lance smiled at Carol after and playfully swatted her rear as she went to grab the baby goat on its high speed run past them to put it away for the night. Lance carried Rita inside with him, reflecting on how they'd gotten together.

After Carol had escaped her marriage from Greg, she moved in with Lance. Greg had come knocking and threatening shortly after, but then he'd died in what appeared to be a bar fight a week later, which wasn't uncommon for him to get into. It had alleviated a lot of stress for both Lance and Carol, and Lance had witnessed her finally be free and happy. He wasn't sorry Greg was dead, and neither was she. Lance had let her stay with him until it became clear they were leaning on each other from grief, and it turned into a relationship. Lance knew it wasn't a perfect one, and it wasn't a passionate one, but he knew they cared enough about each other to make it work. He wondered if Rosie would be happy about it or angry if she somehow knew about it. He struggled with that sometimes.

"Mother put your dinner in the fridge," Rita offered as they walked through the kitchen. Lance wished he could get home on time to eat as a family, but he worked hard so that they could survive, and the consequence of that was late hours.

"Okay. Are you ready for bed?" he asked, raising a brow at her.

"Yes. I just have to put my jam jams on," she answered.

"Okay." He still marveled at how much Rita learned and grew these days. She was a very bright child and communicated a bit more advanced than other children, and he just knew she'd grow in leaps and bounds once she started school. He set her down so she could go get changed. He'd tuck her in after and read her a story. He put his dishes from his lunch box into the sink and rinsed out his thermos. Then he went to Rita's room and started the night time routine. She fell asleep easily, and he bent to kiss her forehead and turn the light off, putting the book on her nightstand. He walked back to the kitchen slowly. His muscles were aching, and he could barely keep his eyes open, but he heated up his dinner and ate anyway, despite not feeling very hungry.

Carol came in from supervising Simon doing chores, and he was ordered to shower quickly and go straight to bed. The boy said nothing as he obeyed.

"What a day," Carol sighed, sitting down heavily beside Lance now. She rested her chin on her hand, looking at him.

"I heard about the cookie incident."

"It was one of the battles of today."

"The rest were...?"

"Simon giving me a hard time about being unfair to him. Rita hating peas. Simon continually telling me that Rita isn't really his sister. The usual stuff, you know?"

"I see."

"Finish up, and we can talk more," she said, standing up and kissing the side of his head as she passed. Her fingers squeezed his shoulder too. He finished eating and did the dishes quietly before going to find her in the living room. He sank down onto the couch next to her and slid his hand into hers.

"How was your day?" she asked.

"I fixed cars," he answered. "That about sums it up." She said nothing more, and he fell asleep before too long. After a while, she woke him up, and he went to bed.

This was his life now, but he was okay with that. He didn't want a dramatic life. He just wanted a simple one, and hopefully, with luck on their side, it would stay that way.

London, U.K.

Luke examined the rifle in front of him carefully. It was too heavy for him to pick up, but he still knew how to assemble it without touching it.

"What're you thinking?" his mother asked.

"Ammo's empty," he answered, holding it up to show her.

"Right. Good job."

Jess was proud of her son for being so smart. She'd started introducing him to weapons in the last year, and even though he was just over age seven, he had mastered assembling an assault rifle without touching it because she'd shown him over and over again.

"How are the knives?" she asked. He went over to look at them, resting a thumb against the blades.

"This one is dull," he answered, picking it out. "These ones are fine."

"Correct. What direction is the wind blowing right now?"

Luke licked and held up a finger, his brow furrowed. "South-east."

"Right on," Jess said, reaching to ruffle his hair. "You're a very good student, Luke."

He smiled, and she felt warm inside. Johnny was away at work for a bit, so it was just the two of them. Things hadn't gotten better between them, but Jess could tell Johnny was impressed that their son was becoming a mini-assassin, just like them.

"I have to do homework," Luke said now, looking at her for permission.

"Go for it," Jess encouraged. She patted his shoulder as he walked past her and went to collect her weapons to put them away. She knew she was going to work soon, and she knew she had to leave Luke at a friend's house while she was gone. He was useful for a lot of her jobs, but this one had some elements to it that meant she had to focus entirely on the mission and not the safety of her son.

One day, she knew he'd be able to look after himself. She looked forward to that day very much.

Montana, U.S.

Rita awoke to a hand pressed over her mouth and nose. She panicked, flailing her arms and legs.

"Stop moving," Simon hissed. She obeyed, too frightened not to. She felt a few tears slip out of her eyes regardless.

"You're such a baby," he sneered, taking his hand back. She gasped in air greedily. She didn't understand why he enjoyed hurting her so much. She breathed in a few times before he closed his fist around her throat, cutting off her air again. She choked.

"Do you know how easy it would be for me to kill you right now?" he asked. She started to scratch at his arms, desperate to make him stop. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Simon laughed meanly, quietly, as she struggled. Her vision was getting a little bit blurry, and she feared she was never going to be able to breathe again when he let her go. She started to cry as she gulped in air.

"If you'd just stop getting me into trouble, I wouldn't have to do this," he told her. "I wouldn't have to hurt you."

"I'm...s-s-sorry," she managed to say. She still didn't understand.

"If you tell anyone, I'll bury you alive," he threatened. "You think me stopping you from breathing is bad? Wait until you have dirt in your nose and lungs choking you to death."

Rita was terrified. Death was not a concept she fully understood. Her father had explained about Heaven to help her understand why her mother wasn't there with them, but she didn't know much else about it. It was scary to her, though, and Simon made it seem a whole lot scarier.

"I won't s-say any...thing," she said. He reached to slap her cheek, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to hurt. She rolled over onto her left side as he walked out of her bedroom, and she cried herself back to sleep after a long time.

London, U.K.

Luke slung his backpack over his shoulder as he walked into his classroom. His teacher, Ms. Jones, smiled at him as he went to hang it up under his cubby and changed his shoes. He sat at his desk and rested his folded hands on top of it, waiting for her to start the day. He registered Nathan bullying other students, and he braced himself for when it would be his turn. Nathan had no idea what was coming his way when he tried. When Ms. Jones wasn't looking, Nathan walked by Luke and whacked his hand against the back of Luke's head. In a flash, Luke had a hold of his arm and twisted it, getting up to shove Nathan's head down onto his desk hard. Nathan screamed, and Luke twisted his arm harder.

"Luke!" Ms. Jones shouted, rushing over. "Let him go!"

"He hit me first," Luke told her.

"I don't care. Let him go this instant!"

"Not until he says sorry," Luke insisted.

"This is not a negotiation," Ms. Jones said, her tone frustrated. "Let him go."

Nathan was whimpering and crying, and Luke wanted to knock his head against the desk a few more times before letting him go, but he knew better than to let his dark fantasies get the best of him. He let Nathan go, and the bully ran to hide behind Ms. Jones, wailing about how much pain he was in.

"Go to the office," Ms. Jones told Luke sharply. "Right now."

Luke knew arguing wasn't going to help his case, so he jutted out his chin and walked out of the room with his head held high. He sat in the office as the receptionist called his mother, and he waited. He wasn't sorry. Nathan bullied and harassed too many others to just be let away with it.

Jess arrived an hour later, and Luke's butt was sore from the hard wooden bench he was left to sit on.

"What did you do?" she asked as she approached him. She looked angry. Her face was pinched. He wondered if his father had come back home. She sometimes looked like this when he did.

"Nathan hit me in the head, so I did self-defense," Luke answered matter-of-factly.

"So where's Nathan?" she asked, looking around. "He's clearly a part of this."

Luke didn't know, and he knew that it would make her angrier. When they were called inside, the headmaster looked at Luke over his glasses and sighed.

"Mrs. Wright," he said, looking at Jess now. "It would appear your son has assaulted another boy in class this morning."

"It was self-defense," Jess said hotly. "Nathan hit him first."

"No one saw that."

"He hit me in the back of the head!" Luke exclaimed, not caring that he wasn't supposed to speak until asked a direct question. "He does it all the time! He hurts the other kids..."

"That's enough," the headmaster cut him off. "I won't tolerate violence in my school, no matter what the trigger was. You're suspended for three days, and you have to write Mr. Cooper an apology letter."

"What?!" Luke exploded.

"This is ridiculous," Jess snapped, jamming her finger on the desk hard to make her point. "My son is a good kid. He's looking out for the other kids and not letting himself be used as a punching bag, and he's punished?!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Wright, but rules are rules," the headmaster said back. "You're excused." Jess looked like she wanted to blow up further, but she inhaled slowly and got to her feet.

"Come on, Luke," she ordered, turning to leave. Luke stood and looked at the headmaster, feeling anger and the unfairness of the situation hitting him hard. Then, when his mother was gone, the headmaster surprised him. He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Luke's.

"Next time," he said quietly, "don't get caught."

"What?" Luke asked.

"Bullies need someone to take them down a peg or two. Next time, don't get caught putting them in their place," the headmaster said with a slight arch in his left brow. Luke blinked, realizing what he was hearing.

"You're telling me I can fight back?" he asked, confirming.

"I don't tolerate violence in my school," the headmaster said, but there was a slight lift in the corner of his lips. Luke nodded slowly, getting it. He walked out of there, doing his best to keep the grin from appearing on his face.

1985

Montana, U.S.

Lance could sense Rita's hesitancy to go to kindergarten as he walked her into the school. Her hair was in two pigtails, and her blue eyes were wide with anxiety as she looked up at him.

"I don't want to," she said.

"I know, but sometimes we have to do things we don't want to in order to get ahead in life," Lance answered, dropping to his knees in front of her. She was holding her backpack with both hands, resting it on the floor. Her bottom lip went out, and Lance had to work hard to not fall for it.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Aw, luv," he said, reaching to touch her face gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of. You're gonna meet your teacher and maybe make some friends. Won't that be fun?"

"I have friends," Rita insisted.

"The barn animals don't count," Lance countered.

"Yes, they do!"

Lance noticed the door to his right open, and a woman poked her head out to look at them.

"You must be Rita," she said kindly. Rita shrank away, trying to hide behind her backpack. Lance lowered it and made her look at him.

"You've got this, Rita," he said firmly. "You're tough and strong and nothing is going to break you down, got it? School is learning, and you love learning, so get in there and learn something for me. Okay?"

"Okay," she said reluctantly. He hugged her and felt her flinch, which made him feel concerned. He'd noticed lately she was keeping to herself more often and would jerk away or flinch at times when she saw a hand coming toward her. It made him suspicious that Carol was maybe hurting her with punishments that he wasn't aware of. He didn't know how to bring it up, though, but deep down he didn't believe she would do that. Carol was very gentle by nature, just like her sister. It made him think about Simon, and he had started keeping an eye on him a bit more.

"Love you, baby girl," he said, smiling at her.

"Love you too."

Lance stood, and Rita walked slowly to her teacher, who extended her hand for Rita to take.

"We're gonna have a lot of fun," the teacher promised, looking back at Lance before they went into the classroom. Lance gave a half smile in return. When they were both gone, he turned and walked back out to his car.

He did his best not to worry about his daughter, but sometimes, it came up in his mind more often than he liked.

London, U.K.

"Come on, faster!" Jess shouted as she ran. She pumped her legs hard, and she turned her head to see Luke on her heels. He was eight now. He'd grown a little bit, and he'd shown interest in running lately. Jess used it to help further fuel his interest in the family business.

"Yeaaaaa!" Luke screamed as he passed her just before their designated finish line. He raised his fists over his head, slowing down and starting to do a winner's dance as Jess came to a slow halt.

"Alright," Jess said, wheezing slightly. "New record!"

"You should have seen your face," Luke told her, smirking.

"Okay, so I didn't think you had it in you," she said, rolling her eyes. "But I'm glad you beat me. It means you're getting closer to being ready."

"I am ready!" Luke insisted loudly. "Please! Just let me do it!"

"Not yet," Jess replied. "There's a time and place for everything, son. Remember that." She recognized the frustration in him. He was a tough boy, and he had gotten faster, smarter, and craftier at managing the bullies at his school ever since his suspension a year ago. He was throwing knives with such skill and precision that even Jess found herself feeling jealous.

"Ugghhh," Luke growled, shaking his head. "You're never gonna let me do it!"

"Oh, trust me," Jess said, giving him a look. "One day, you're gonna be able to do whatever you want, and I won't stop you." She cuffed him lightly on the way by, and he fell into step beside her.

"What's the lesson for today?" he asked.

"What do you think it means to take a life?" she posed. He furrowed his brow, thinking.

"It means you're an assassin," he answered. She was careful with these types of conversations. She didn't want anyone overhearing them. They'd take Luke away for sure, and she'd probably end up arrested. She remembered being Luke's age and learning from the best. She'd been 11 when given her first mission.

"It's control we've been given," she explained. "When we are given a life to take, it's not done lightly, and it's not done out of malice. It's done in order to keep peace in this world."

"Because there are a lot of bad guys," Luke finished for her. "I know that."

"We help keep the order," Jess went on, nudging him to let him know she didn't appreciate the interruption. "Without us, many innocent lives get destroyed. We have to prevent that."

"So, taking a life means keeping a balance," Luke said, understanding.

"Yea," Jess confirmed. "Basically."

"Do you ever think about them after?"

"No."

"Do you ever question if they actually did the bad things?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Our job is to follow orders, not ask questions. If you ask questions, you get in trouble, and that kind of trouble is more than just being suspended," she warned. "It means having a hit put on you. It happened to a friend of mine."

"Oh."

"He was the best assassin I'd ever known," Jess lamented. "I wish you could have met him."

"What was his name?"

"Harry," Jess answered with a small smile.

"Do you know where he is?"

"He's dead, Luke."

"Oh."

They were at the car now, and she opened the back door for him so he could climb in. She looked around before getting into the driver's seat, making sure no one was eavesdropping. The calls of some birds and the wind was all she could hear. She smiled.

Then she turned her head and saw a woman watching them. Her heart jumped, but then she relaxed. She recognized the short, blonde hair and tight jaw along with the cold, green eyes and crossed arms.

"Amelia," she said.

"Jess."

"You have a job for me?" Jess asked. Luke was craning his neck to see from inside the car. Amelia flicked her eyes to look at him and then back to Jess.

"Yes, I do," she replied.

"So give it to me," Jess ordered. She didn't like the judgmental look in Amelia's eyes. What did she know? Her life was dedicated to the business too. It wasn't Jess's fault that Amelia didn't have any children or a spouse. You sacrificed to do this job, and Jess just got lucky to have her family. It majorly had something to do with her promise to train Luke.

Amelia said nothing as she handed over the file. Jess took it, feeling a strong annoyance for this woman. They'd never had a very good relationship after all.

"Who was that?" Luke asked when Amelia was gone and Jess was in the car.

"She's from work. She gives assignments."

"You got a new job?!"

"Yes."

"Let me see!"

"Luke, settle down," she ordered, and he sat back in his seat with a disappointed look. Jess flipped open the file and read. Then she closed it and sighed.

Some work was just never done.