Hey guys! Its been a while since my last update, sorry for the wait. Enjoy the chapter! :D

Marcus

"This is war," Giovanni pushed us aside, and stormed out of the living room.

Sitara and I chased after him. He led us to a grand marble staircase, which twisted in a perfect spiral, it's railings made of sleek metal.

"Yo, hold up," I skipped in front of Giovanni, stopping his advance just before the stairs. "You sure you wanna go up there? It'll be you versus all of them. Your odds ain't looking too good, man."

"What?" Giovanni glared at us. "I thought you guys had my back?"

There was an awkward moment of silence between us. Sitara and I exchanged wary glances at one another.

"Charging blindly into a firefight wasn't part of the agreement," Sitara muttered.

"Yeah, I thought we had a deal man," I said. "We saved your ass in exchange for information—"

"Screw that, I've got thousands of dollars in valuables up there, and I'll be damned if I let those limp-dick, jack-asses steal all my shit. To Hell with the both of you pansies, I'll clear em' out myself." Rifle raised, Giovanni charged up the staircase.

Fuck, we had to help him. We needed Giovanni to cough up everything he knew, and there was no way he could do that if his crazy ass got himself killed.

"We gotta' do something," I glanced at Sitara. "If he dies, everything he knows dies with him."

"Okay, here," Sitara handed me back my pistol. "You're a better shot than I am."

I took the lead, cautiously ascending the steps with Sitara at my heels.

Bang! Bang!

The stutter of rapid, automatic gunfire exploded through the penthouse. Sitara and I quickened our pace up the stairs, the sound of bullets spraying through the air grew louder and louder with every step. Despite my worry for Giovanni's safety, I knew better than to stroll carelessly into a dangerous situation. I halted just before the final step of the spiral staircase, and took a cautious peek of what lied ahead.

Before us was a dark, narrow hall with hardwood doors on each side. I spotted Giovanni slowly advancing toward the end of the hall with his rifle raised, shooting short bursts of blind gunfire into the darkness ahead.

"You thieving cock-suckers thought you were gonna rub me out, didn't ya'?" Giovanni roared over the blaring noise of his gun, grinning ear to ear. "Thought you were gonna' steal all my shit and get away with it? Guess again, fuckers! You're all gonna' die tonight, every single one of you…"

Giovanni continued to rant and rave like a mad-man.

"Geez, can the guy make his presence any more obvious?" Sitara mumbled. "He's just begging to get himself killed."

Unfazed by Giovanni's threats, a barrage of bullets suddenly erupted from the darkness, firing back at him, wiping the smug smile right off his face. A high pitch scream of terror escaped him. Panicking, he danced in place frantically as bullets rapidly glanced past him.

Without thinking, I lunged from the safety of cover and charged into him at full speed. We collided with a hardwood door.

Crash!

The door crumbled in our wake, breaking from its hinges entirely. Giovanni and I took a nose-dive through the doorway and onto the sleek, marble floors of large bathroom. A sharp ache erupted in my side from the rough fall. The pain from my open wound wasn't letting up…

"Marcus!" Sitara called out over the gunfire. "Are you okay? Say something!"

"I'm good!" I replied between clenched teeth. Doing my best to ignore the pain, I forced myself into a stance.

"Fucking Hell, we're still alive," Giovanni grumbled as he slowly rose to his feet. "Stop saving my ass so much, will ya'? You're making me look like a pussy out there."

"Actually, you're doing a pretty good job making a pussy out of yourself, man."

Giovanni glared at me. "Yeah, yeah— fuck you, wise guy. What are we going to do now?"

"Just follow my lead."

Giovanni and I took cover on each side of the door, and took a glimpse into the hall. The gunfire was unrelenting, however. We were only able to take a small peek into the darkness before being forced back behind cover.

We managed poke our guns through the doorway to fire rounds back at our opposition, but it was hopeless. It was impossible to get a clear shot while pinned down like this. They had visibility, a better arsenal, and greater numbers on their side.

"This is suicide!" Sitara shouted in the distance. "We need to get out of here!"

"Over my dead body!" Giovanni retorted. "I'm not leaving without my shit!"

"Calm the fuck down, I can't think," I muttered. Realizing we were outmanned, and outgunned, I had to improvise. I drew my phone and hacked the lights, brightening the hall. With our newfound visibility, I hacked a nearby security camera, and obtained a clear, elevated view of the entire lengthy hallway. Four masked gunmen armed with assault rifles were closing in on us. Huddled in close formation, they appeared well-trained, gradually inching closer and closer.

Giovanni's sight darted to me. "Are you nuts? Is now really the time to be checking your phone? I need cover fire, damn it!"

I rooted through my messenger bag, and fished out an Electro-shock device. "Relax, I got this."

He smirked. "You're one crafty son of a bitch."

"You know it." I hurled the device down the hall.

"Grenade!" A grainy voice shouted. The hail of fire came to an abrupt stop, and the four men turned away to flee for cover. With their formation broken, Giovanni and I pulled from cover, and unloaded our ammunition into their backs, ending them before they could get away. Blood and brain matter splattered onto the white walls, and stained the marble flooring.

"About time we got that over with, I was running low on ammo," Giovanni tossed his rifle aside, and pried a new one from the cold, dead fingers of one of the men lying before us. "Excuse me a sec' kid, I gotta get one of my guys on the line to clean up this mess. And I could really use a drink. Meet me downstairs, will ya'? We've got a lot to discuss."

He took off for the staircase.

"Marcus!" Sitara ran into my arms and captured me in her tight embrace. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good girl," I kissed her forehead.

Her glance settled on the bloody corpses lying at our feet. She winced, the blood draining from her face. She pulled away from me.

"You alright?" I asked, my brows furrowed.

"T-they're dead," she stammered. "Did you… kill them? Or Giovanni?"

"We both did," I frowned, peering at their broken bodies. "Neither of us had much of a choice. It was us, or them."

"I know, it's just—"

"Are you kids coming, or not?" Giovanni called from downstairs. "I don't got all day."

Sitara sighed. "We'll talk about this later, okay?" She turned away and descended the steps. I swallowed deeply, a pang of guilt invaded my chest.

We joined Giovanni on the white leather couch in his beautifully decorated living room. With the bottom level of his penthouse still in pristine condition, it was a little easier to forget about the crazy ass gunfight we had a moment ago. Besides the corpses, we left the upper level of his home in shitty condition. The walls were riddled with bullet holes, and practically on the verge of crumbling. Don't get me started with the amount of shell casings we left all over the place.

I figured Giovanni would be pissed about the property damages, and almost getting killed— he had a pretty shitty day after all. But he seemed relaxed, lounging on his couch with his feet kicked up on the table, expensive wine glass in hand, sipping alcohol as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"So, this is about Quinn, isn't it?" He gazed at me.

"He took Wrench," I replied. "We need to find him. Dude, if you know anything about Quinn, or Wrench's whereabouts, you gotta tell us."

Giovanni sighed heavily. "A real shame. He was a good kid. Wrenchie-boy and the broad came by asking about Quinn earlier today—"

"Why do you keep talking about me as if I'm not even here?" Sitara asked. "I have a name, you know? And it's not broad."

"Princess, I don't give two damns what your name is," Giovanni snapped, his relaxed demeanor quickly warped into rage. He shot up from his seat and towered over Sitara, his wrinkled, pudgy face reddening with anger.

I slipped between them, and nudged Giovanni away from her. "Yo, be cool man. The fuck is wrong with you? She risked her life saving you, show her some fucking respect."

"Respect?" Giovanni grinned. "You hacking little shits don't deserve respect. This is all your fault. It's no coincidence that a few hours after I was blackmailed by that whore to rat on Quinn, some wise guys show up at my door trying to rub me out. If it wasn't for any of you fools, I wouldn't have a hit out on my head. I'm a fucking dead man!" He flung his expensive wine glass across the room, the fragile cup shattered to pieces once it collided with the wall. "It's only a matter of time. After they're done with me, you two are next. I've seen it happen too many times."

"Nah, we won't let that happen—"

He shook his head. "You nerds don't got what it takes. DedSec are watchdogs, damn good ones at that, but bringing all their shady shit into the light won't change anything. They thrive off fear, the more people who are scared, the stronger they become. They're filthy rich too, paying off police officers and gangs to do their dirty work. DedSec doesn't have a chance—"

"I don't have time for this shit," I grumbled. "Do you know where we can find Quinn or not? You owe us answers, pops. I know he was your business partner."

"Calm your cohones, tough guy," Giovanni muttered. "Look, luckily for you, Quinn got in contact with me shortly before the armed thugs made their grand debut. He said to get out of town, that the Red Eagles were coming after me. That's how I made it to my safe room without a scratch."

"Who's the Red Eagles?" I asked.

"Some kind of secret organization Quinn works for. I don't know much about em', but the name carries a lot of weight on the street. No fuckin' clue why, but it makes people shit their pants."

"If he's working for them, why would he warn you that they're coming?" Sitara asked.

"Not sure, maybe he likes this old mug more than he lets on," Giovanni shrugged his shoulders. "He said he knew I ratted him out to DedSec, and went on with some mumbo-jumbo about the outcome being evitable. He told me he was the fall guy for the casualties DedSec caused at the warehouse, and that his people want him dead because of it."

Giovanni strolled over to his bookcase, and pulled a thick, red book from the top shelf. He flipped through the book and withdrew a small, white card hidden between the pages. "Here, if Quinn's people have Wrenchie-boy, then this where you'll find him."

Sitara and I took Giovanni's side and studied the card. 'Danton and Smith's storage facility' was etched across it in black ink. On the back of it was an address outside the city.

"A couple months ago, I met Quinn at a bar to discuss business. He got a little buzzed, and let some truths slip— mentioned somethin' about his less desirable product being transported from his warehouse to Danton and Smith until there's a confirmed buyer," Giovanni continued. "Apparently it was too risky storing the good stuff in the city, but that facility is far on the country side. Less room for complications."

"That's assuming Wrench falls into the less desirable category," Sitara said. "What if he doesn't?"

"Trust me sweetheart, in Quinn's line of business, women and children are in high demand," Giovanni replied. "They're easy to subdue, and just as easy to sell. Grown men are usually more trouble than they're worth."

"Well, thanks for the cringy as fuck human trafficking tips," I took the business card off Giovanni's hands. "Hopefully this leads us to Wrench."

"Yeah, the scrawny kid deserves better. Go find em', will ya'?"

"For sure. You should take Quinn's advice— pack up and get somewhere safe."

"No thanks, I'll be here enjoying my time while it lasts." Giovanni returned to the couch, and laid his rifle across his lap. "Never been much of a runner. This is where I belong."

"You don't have to give up, man. If you do that, you're letting them win."

"Look at me kid. I've lived a long life, I've done everything, I've been everywhere. I'm tired now." He waved at us dismissively. "Now clear out before more Red Eagle muscle show up. You kids got your whole lives ahead of you, try not to get yourselves killed so soon."

Soft beads of nighttime rain tapped against the car's windshield as Sitara cruised along an empty expressway, with me in the passenger seat. We've been on the road for three hours now, and the small, silver Chevrolet we were in was beginning to feel cramped. It would have been nice to stretch my legs, but there was no way I was getting out the car. We were far out of my comfort zone— surrounded by dark, shadowy woods, and the wild grass and tall trees hugging the roadside seemed like night and day compared to the city. There was hardly any traffic to compete with, which was somewhat unsettling, but I was grateful for it. Although our headlights bathed the black road in light, the dark, cloudy skies and downpour made for terrible visibility.

We stopped at a pharmacy to pick up medical supplies for my wounds before leaving San Francisco behind. Good thing we did too, because I had a fuckton of cuts and abrasions that needed attention, especially the graze on my stomach.

Sitara agreed to take the wheel while I mended my injuries. I managed to stitch the wound on my stomach closed, which turned out to be the longest, most grueling process I've ever done in my life. Not to mention, it hurt like a motherfucker. Performing surgery on myself while in a moving car wasn't the smartest idea, but we were too strapped for time to do otherwise.

The address Giovanni provided was located before the border of Oregon, a couple of miles or so from Redding. It was going to be a long, risky drive. There was no way to be absolutely sure Wrench or Quinn would even be there. All we had was Giovanni's word, and no other leads, besides the name 'Red Eagles', which wasn't much help. I filled Josh in about our findings shortly after we left the penthouse, maybe he could do some research and help us piece things together. It was a long shot, but I had to keep my hopes up for Wrench's sake.

Although, it was getting harder and harder to do so. I felt weak and woozy, keeping my eyes open was a struggle. I wasn't sure if I was just tired, or if it was due to blood loss, but I was too afraid to sleep in case it was the latter. What if I didn't wake up? I didn't want to leave Sitara alone, at least not yet. We had to find Wrench first. I had to know for sure that they were both safe before resting became an option.

Staring blankly at the road and listening to the raindrops was making me even more drowsy, however. I turned on the car radio, a lively electronic tempo filled the air.

"Turn that crap off," Sitara muttered.

"Why?" I asked. "I thought you loved electronica?"

"Not anymore." She reached over and shut the radio off. "I rather listen to the rain. It's like a sad melody, ominous, but beautiful. No matter how much chaos and disorder is in my life, rain is always the same. It's hard to explain, but there's something so calming about it."

"Yeah, but it's putting a brother to sleep. I'm trying to stay awake here."

She glanced at me. "Marcus? You hanging in there okay, stud? Why don't you get some sleep? I think we're almost there, but you can fit in a power nap."

"Nah, it's cool. I'm good."

"How's your wound?"

"It still hurts like shit, but the bleeding stopped. So I guess that's something."

"Can I ask you a question?"

I nodded. "Sure, you can ask me anything baby."

"How do you think this is going to end? Seriously, no sugar-coating. Do you think we'll find Wrench alive? Do you think we'll even live long enough to find him at all? Do you think that maybe, he could be—"

"Don't say it." My stomach dropped.

"He could be dead by now, and we couldn't do anything to stop it." Her delicate eyes grew watery. "What if he's dead?"

My muscles tightened. "Stop it, he's not dead. You can't think like that. You're in the wrong mental space girl, shrug that shit off. You're stronger than that—"

"No!" Sitara shouted, her body trembled with anxiety. She pounded her shaking fists against the steering wheel. "Just stop it, okay? I'm not as strong as you think I am. I'm trying to be realistic here. What if he's already gone?"

I glared at her. "So what? You sayin' that this is all pointless? That we should turn around and run home after how far we've come? After all the shit we've been through to get here?"

"That's not what I'm saying, Marcus."

"It sure as fuck sounds like it. Wrench is fucking family girl. I'm not giving up on him. Fuck that."

"I'm not giving up on him either—"

"Bullshit."

"You're such a friggin' asshole." Sitara's voice quaked with emotion. Tears rushed from her swollen eyes, staining her cheeks. "I was just asking a question, you don't have to be such a douche about it."

I sighed, a pang of guilt struck me watching her cry. "My bad, I didn't mean to—"

"Fuck you," she sneered. "Wrench was family to me long before you stepped into the picture. I'd give anything to have him back. If I was planning on giving up on him, I wouldn't be out here with you, hungry and tired, in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, would I? So you can shove that holier-than-thou bullshit up your ass."

Sitara's green glittering eyelid twitched with frustration. I smirked. She looked so adorable when she was pissed, her pillowy lips pouted, and her small button nosed flared. Every now and then, I got lost admiring her beautiful heart-shaped face. No matter how harshly her words burned when I got on her bad side, she always looked so sweet and harmless.

Sitara bounced her legs up and down absentmindedly with anxiety, her thick, toned thighs swayed freely with motion. Although I knew better than to bother her while she was irritable, I couldn't resist touching her tanned leg. She abruptly swatted my hand.

"Don't even try it," she muttered.

"Have I ever told you how good you look when you're mad?" I teased. "Over there lookin' like a five-star platter of somethin' sweet and sour— I could just eat you up girl. Come over here and give your man some sugar."

She chuckled, her nose wrinkled in protest. "Stop it, dweeb. Your stupid compliments aren't going to work."

"Aw, don't be like that." I brushed a thumb over her high, curved cheekbones, wiping away her tears. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I know you wouldn't throw Wrench under the bus like that. I ain't coping too well with him gone, you know?"

She took a moment or so to respond, the pinned-up aggression and tension inside her slowly withered away. "Do you remember when we first met?"

I smiled at the thought of it. "How could I forget? It felt fucking good planting a backdoor in Blume's servers. Then I got to meet you and the rest of the team— my life has never been the same since, in the best way."

"Remember how we partied the night away on that beach?" She smiled weakly. "The bay was so beautiful that night. And that speech you made was so inspiring, I felt like DedSec could take over the world. You've always had a strong sense of leadership."

"I aim to please. But truth be told, I was drunk as fuck that night. I can hardly remember any of the shit I was going on about. I do remember checking you out though. You were fine as Hell."

"Well, I'm still the same girl you met on the beach that night, aren't I? Have I changed any?"

"Subtle changes, nothing big. Still beautiful, intelligent and ambitious. You used to be a lot more guarded around me though, but I think I broke down those walls. You also eased up on being so pushy, you used to bark demands at me like crazy."

"Sorry," she shook her head. "I feel like a totally different person now though. It scares me."

"What do you mean?"

"Those people who hurt Wrench— I want them dead, Marcus. I want them to suffer slowly. I know I can be vindictive and vengeful, there's nothing sweeter than destroying pretentious scumbags, but not to the extent where I feel as if jail is too good for them. I shouldn't wish death on anyone, it's so wrong. I killed someone once, that eye-ball collecting maniac who tried to execute you, because I had to. And it's been eating at me for a while now…"

"You did what you had to do, Sitara. Don't dwell on it. The remorse will drive you crazy if you let it."

"I don't know how to explain it, but sometimes I feel like your slipping away," she gazed at me. "At times, you can be so sweet and compassionate, and then there's times like earlier, at Giovanni's place. How do you do it? How do you kill people and not bat an eye about it?"

"I—" A black Jeep pulled up beside us out of blue. With its headlights off, it blended in with the road's surrounding darkness. Another car zoomed toward us in the opposite direction, it's headlights blinding. Sitara yelped with surprise. Stunned by the blinding lights, the Jeep rammed right into us.

CRASH!

The powerful hit swerved our tiny Chevrolet right off the road and into the pitch black woods. Sitara cried out as our car lost control, we descended a steep, bumpy hill farther and farther into the darkness, breaking through dead tree stumps and outstretched branches. The sound of glass shattering, and tires screeching against the rocky landscape filled my ears. There was a loud bump, and somehow, we overturned completely. Time seemed to come to a slow as the car spun through the air, pushing our bodies forward. I braced myself, arms held high, shielding my dome from smashing into the dashboard. Sitara's head hit the steering wheel full-on before the air bags emerged, colliding with our faces. A sharp burst of pain rattled my skull, the ache so overwhelming that I lost consciousness mid flip.

Bang! Bang!

The echo of gunfire in the distance roused me to my senses. It was a miracle I picked up any sound at all, my ears were ringing like Hell. I found myself hanging upside down, strapped to my seat by my seatbelt, in an overturned steel prison. The roof had collapsed beneath us, and the windshield had caved in from the crash. The smell of thick smoke and gas filled my lungs. I coughed, my entire body aching and sore— I thought my lungs were going to fold in any second.

But that wasn't the worst part. At some point during the bumpy crash, I must have hit my dick against something. The stinging pain was unbearable.

I gazed at Sitara. She was unconsciousness, pinned between the steering wheel and crumbled roof. I tried to reach out to her, but my limbs were too heavy, the pains and aches weighed me down. The world kept fading into black, the bitter, coppery taste of blood pooled within my mouth.

In the back of my mind, I knew if we didn't get out of this steel prison anytime soon, it'd be all over. Everything we've went through to get Wrench back would be all for nothing. I wasn't ready to die. It wasn't death that terrified me though, it was the fact that I couldn't move, or do anything to stop it.

I wasn't sure how many times I faded in and out of consciousness before I heard Sitara call to me.

"Marcus…" Sitara whimpered, her voice barely a whisper. "H-help… I can't get out. My seatbelt… stuck…"

I struggled to open my eyes. She wrestled with her seatbelt, clearly in a better physical condition than I was despite the bloody bump on her forehead. I tried to speak, but I couldn't. I could barely breathe.

Crack!

A foot kicked in the window beside me. A pale man in an expensive suit with black, slicked back hair appeared. My stomach dropped— it was Quinn. Where the fuck did he come from? A part of me wished the car would just explode already, so if we died, the motherfucker would go down with us.

"Quite the jam you two are in, hm?" He smirked, and reached into his pants pocket, drawing a knife. I swallowed deeply, preparing to be stabbed to death, but instead, he cut my seatbelt and dragged me out of the car onto the grassy ground. Dumbfounded, I watched him pull Sitara to safety next, effortlessly throwing her over his broad shoulder.

"Let go of me!" Sitara shuddered, pounding her fists against his chest.

"Quit squirming, you ungrateful worm," Quinn grumbled, roughly dropping her onto the ground beside me.

"Marcus!" Sitara clenched my shoulders tightly. "Oh my God, your nose is bleeding. Are you okay?"

Finally free from the smoke filled car, I was able to breathe much easier. If only the pain would ease up… "Nah, everything hurts. I-I think I broke my dick girl."

"No, no, it can't be broken. We're going to need to it one day, okay? Tell me how to fix it." She laid her palm on my crotch.

The pressure only made it hurt worse. I winced. "N-no, don't touch it—"

Bullets zoomed through the air in our direction, the flash of exploding gunpowder lit up the woods. Quinn knelt before us, using our overturned car as cover from the gunfire.

"The vehicle is going to explode any moment now, we need to distance ourselves from the blast," Quinn stated, his demeanor surprisingly calm despite the circumstances.

"Do you have any sense of compassion?" Sitara asked. "My boyfriend's dick is broken, okay? This is serious—"

"If you and your dickless boyfriend don't get moving now, we're all going to die horribly, understand?" Quinn threw my arm over his shoulder and heaved me into a stance. With his support, we fled further into the woods, down a seemingly endless path of tall trees, and dead leaves, the gunfire fading in the distance.

Boom!

A fiery explosion shook the earth, causing us to stumble. I peered behind us. The Chevrolet had combusted into flames, engulfing the grass and trees around it in a blanket of raging fire. Now that we were more or less out of harm's way, the realization that I was being whisked around by the one pretentious motherfucker I hated more than ctOS, Bratva, and corporate greed combined, sent me spiraling into an uncontrollable rage. Not even the aches and pains could tame my anger.

I jerked out of his grip, and smashed my fist into his face, the sudden blow knocked him off his feet. He regained his composure quickly, and rose to challenge me, launching his palm toward my throat. I dodged the attack, and charged him onto the ground. Raising my balled fist in preparation to break his teeth in, soft hands grasped my shoulders, dragging me away from him by my jacket.

"Stop!" Sitara shouted, stepping between us. "Can't we find out why he saved us before you kill him?"

"Who gives a shit?" I glared over her shoulder at Quinn. "One second you're trying to murder us, the next you're helping us. What's your game man?"

Quinn climbed to his feet, and began dusting the dirt off his suit. "Is he always this dramatic?" He asked calmly, his cold, expressionless eyes on Sitara.

"Why did you save us Quinn?" Sitara turned to face him.

"Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend," he formed a tight smile. "If you would be so kind to put aside your hatred and preconceived notions regarding me, I'd be more than happy to inform you of my broken ties with the Red Eagles. I willingly disobeyed a sacred oath to the cult, the consequences of doing so punishable by death."

"Seriously?" Sitara crossed her arms over her chest. "The Red Eagles is a cult?"

"Like some crazy Manson family, and Jonestown circle jerk shit?" I asked, slapping a hand over my chest to squash a bug crawling on my jacket. Fuck, there were insects buzzing around everywhere.

Quinn shrugged his shoulders. "Generally speaking, I suppose that's accurate."

"So now that you fucked shit up with your murder buddies, you think we can get you out of it?" I grinned. "Fuck that man—"

"I know where your friend is," Quinn argued. "I know exactly where he has been hidden, and I can lead you to him, if you agree to help me."

Sitara abruptly lost her balance, and stumbled into me.

I took my eyes off Quinn to gaze at Sitara. "Hey, you good?" I whispered.

Sitara touched a hand to her head. "Everything is spinning…" Her legs abruptly gave out from under her. I caught her in my arms before she hit the ground.

"Sitara?" I shook her narrow frame gently. Her body had gone limp, eyes closed and unresponsive. My heartbeat raced, nearly exploding in my chest from worry. My mind jumped to worse-case scenario. "No, no, no, no, this can't be happening. Please don't be dead girl, please—"

"Oh my, is she dead?" Quinn asked. "Quite the anti-climactic way to go, don't you think? I'm envious, death is a beautiful, glorious thing. In darkness, she shall be born anew, like a phoenix rising from the ashes—"

"Let me guess, your cult buddies teach you that? Now isn't the time for the delusional, hivemind bullshit man," I pressed my ear to her chest. There was a heartbeat. "Thank God," I let out a sigh of relief. "She's alive."

"That's just swell. Does she have a habit for randomly fainting?"

"No, this never happened before. I don't know what's wrong with her." I gazed at the bloody bump on her forehead. "Maybe she has a concussion."

Quinn took my side, and inspected Sitara. "It's likely, most people do after a car accident. Quite the phenomenon you both survived a crash of that magnitude."

I dug into my jacket pocket, and drew my phone. I grimaced— I couldn't pick up half a fucking signal out here. "Figures," I grumbled. Sitara was unconscious, we were stranded in the middle of the woods, and Wrench was still missing. Could things get anymore worse?

"Find them!" A voice rang out from the thick shadows surrounding us, echoing in the distance. "Snuff them out! They've couldn't have gotten far!

Damn it. Of course things could get worse, they always do. I just had to jinx our luck.

Quinn clapped his hands together with enthusiasm. "Great, my brothers are still trying to kill us." He opened his jacket and drew one of the pistols strapped to his chest. "This is going to be fun."

Whew, Marcus and Sitara are having a really tough time, aren't they? Lol, thanks for reading! As I stated before, I'm taking requests for one-shots, if there's any characters pairings from the watch dogs series, or specific scenarios you'd like to read about, be sure to inbox me or leave a review with your request! Also, please don't hesitate to let me know if you enjoy my work, your support inspires me to keep writing. Thank you :)