Still Don't Own… This is a tedious one... but bear with me and it will get better next chapter. I promise.
Chapter 2
Peter looked down at the slight boy he had on his lap with a growing frown. This was a little bit ridiculous. He was hired by an elusive man known as Moriarty three weeks ago and he had already killed thirteen people. It wasn't pleasant work, but it put food on the table for his family. Since his employment with this man, he had heard a thousand outrageous rumors. His favorite was that the man was a leprechaun, but he had heard even more silly things. Such as that he had horns, red eyes, or was a Time Lord from Doctor Who. All of it was ridiculous of course. But, he had never seen or heard from the man himself, so he couldn't exactly disprove any of the gossip. Only a select few had contact with Moriarty, even fewer actually talked to him face to face. From what he had heard, he was glad he wasn't one of those poor sods.
One of the higher ups had contacted him and his business partner, Matthew, this morning with orders to trail a target. Stalking. Okay, he could deal with that. But when he asked for details, there was a pause before the assignment was given. And… he was asked to follow and abduct a street urchin. A street urchin. Estimated age? Twelve. Black hair, blue eyes. Scar on jaw line, about 5'1. Hardly a challenge, but it was peculiar. What did Moriarty want from an orphan?
He snapped back to the present when the boy keened in his sleep. Peter grimaced and ruffled his hand fondly through the kid's hair. He reminded him of his own sons back home. He felt a bit sorry for the preteen, but when it came down to it, he valued his own life more than this nameless boy. He frowned again, and shifted so the boy could be more comfortable on his lap. Looking over at Matthew, he saw that the man was looking uncomfortably at the boy's jaw, where the brutal, jagged scar was. It looked like it was a knife wound, and a messy job at that. It was a miracle the boy was still alive. Matthew looked away from the gruesome scar and looked intently at Peter. His eyes roved up and down, as if he were looking at his partner for the first time.
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly to his comrade. Matthew worried his lip and wrung his hands together peculiarly. It must be a nervous tick, Peter reasoned. But even so, his friend was acting pretty odd. His gaze darted down to Peter's left hand, and then back up to his eyes.
"Ah, yes." He answered distractedly. He abruptly turned away to stare out the window. Peter sighed.
"It's odd, picking up young ones, huh? Do you think he's Moriarty's son or something?"
Matthew didn't take the bait, and the banter fell flat. The car was silent once more, and Peter looked down at the kid again.
"What's so special about you?" he mused, running his hand softly in the ink black hair. He missed Matthew flinch at the other end of the car. The rest of the ride was passed in uncomfortable silence.
…
Fifteen minutes passed slowly, but they finally pulled up to a small house in a nice, kid friendly neighborhood. It was a dead end, and there were a lot of nice sturdy oak trees around. A couple yards away a group of kids were collecting acorns. The last place you'd expect some nefarious to happen, but this was the address his superior had given him. Peter opened the car door, ignoring the nervous jolt Matthew gave him. The man had been on the job longer than him, Peter honestly didn't know what was eating him up.
"Take care of him, will you?" Peter sighed, shrugging the still limp form of the boy onto Matthew's lap.
"Sure." Matthew expertly scooped the boy into his arms, stooping a little to get out of the car without hitting his head on the roof. Peter turned away from the car and moved towards the house. He flipped open his mobile and dialed in the number his superior had given him. He was surprised when a accented voice picked up.
"Hello?"
"Ah, yes. I was told to call this number when…" Peter fumbled for words. Was this the wrong number? The man's accent was distracting.
"Oh good!" the voice squealed. Squealed. It was an undignified noise, but it sent chills down his spine none the less. "Have Matthew bring him in. You may leave." The tone of voice changed in an instant, hardening and sounding authoritative.
"Understood. Well, Goodbye then…" the phone line clicked. The man had already hung up. What a strange job he had.
He walked quickly back to the car.
"Matthew, you're going to stay here. I'm going to report back at work, and pick you up in a couple hours." He gave a jerky nod, still staring at the limp body in his arms. The little kid looked like a doll in his thick arms. It was oddly endearing. Peter leaned in slightly towards his partner.
"Listen. I think Mr. Moriarty is in that house," he said, jerking his thumb carelessly over his shoulder in the general direction of the house. "So you better get your head in the game." Matthew opened his mouth to protest but Peter stopped him with an impatient hand motion. "I don't care why or why not. Just… be careful. It wouldn't do well for my reputation to have my partner shot by my boss." Matthew smiled uneasily, not even flinching when Peter smacked him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit." The boy shifted and his eyelids began to flutter. Matthew frowned down at the preteen and tightened his grip on him.
"I'd better be off before the kid wakes up," Matthew said gruffly.
"She's all yours." Peter grumbled, climbing into the car. "Please be safe. From one friend to another."
"You have nothing to worry about." The child gave a pitiful moan and shifted again. Without another word, Matthew turned on his heel towards the unassuming house. Peter sighed and told the driver to bring him back to work. With an uneasy feeling, Peter rode far away from the house and his only friend on the job.
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