Chapter 34: Fear
A/N: Hey ya'll! I know it's been a little minute. Now I'll admit, between working, writing, and trying to secure these Renaissance tour tickets, ya girl is STRESSED. The past month has been a complete blur to me. I was writing this chapter and Arbiter of Fate simultaneously even though I probably shouldn't have. For Skyline, I spent so much time deciding on the events of the story that it took way longer to write. For the sake of pacing I want to introduce every problem in the story individually and not just bombard my readers with chaos right off the bat. At this point, I just want to set the stage for what's coming. Now as promised this chapter includes more of John's long awaited perspective and we have more on the way. Next chapter will be more soft and domestic while the after chapter it is the complete opposite.
Sidenote: I recently became aware that Skyline has hit over 50,000 views on A03 and I couldn't be more ecstatic! When I started writing this story I didn't even know if anyone would read it so imagine my shock when it gained such a massive following from so many supportive readers! Thank you all for making this black girl the happiest writer in the world.
The hitman had spent a full day hunting for the most probable location and this was without a doubt where his intended target was hiding. Presently, he stood outside of an old decrepit building that appeared as if it could provide adequate refuge for someone who sought to hide out and not be discovered by those looking for them. Funnily enough, it was the exact kind of place that someone like him would expect a person to hide. He easily gained access into the building without being detected, given that the place wasn't that heavily guarded to begin. Another thing that automatically puts them at a disadvantage.
Once inside, he maneuvered through the structure much like a ghost, able to blend in with the dark corners and still not be seen even while out in somewhat well-lit areas.
A man just so happened to be rounding the corner when he locked eyes with the stealthy assassin. It was only until he deliberately allowed himself to be seen did the job truly begin.
The man's eyes went wide in shock and he clumsily went for the gun at his hip. By then it was already too late. John had capped him in the center of the head in a split second watching disinterestedly as the man's body hit the ground lifelessly. The sound of gunfire promptly brought the other gunmen out in frantic droves. Not that it mattered, it wasn't anything he hadn't faced before. In fact, this was considered especially tame for all his experience - having to go up against an army of gunmen by his lonesome.
Clearly, they didn't expect the wronged party to hire him to do that job. Many knew of his reputation and the sight of him immediately incited a panic amongst the men as it often did when his presence became known. It took nothing for him to infiltrate inconspicuous dwellings like this and it was one of the reasons why he was so feared. No one ever saw him coming.
John easily navigated the dilapidated building's terrain, encountering gun toting men determined to defend their boss. The hitman barreled through hordes of armed henchmen with relative ease - a marksman excelling at his craft. Delivering the necessary headshots to dispatch the stunned, unprepared targets. At various points, John was surrounded by several gunmen and he wasted no time spraying them one by one in a hail of well placed bullets. Firing a shot into one man's head before delivering two more into another's chest.
He doubled tapped the last remaining two with lethal efficiency to ensure that they were well and truly dead. The large space undertook a loud reverberating silence afterwards that he was all too familiar with.
The professional assassin ejected a clip before swiftly reloading another in its place, expression remaining exclusively blank.
Once he took out most of the upper level, he began searching exclusively for the intended target. As it turned out, the man was held up in a poorly barricaded area away from most of the carnage. Once he kicked in the door he was not surprised to find more triggermen waiting for him and another shootout ensued.
Predictably, John caught sight of the cowardly politician who was actively seeking to shield himself by hiding and scrambling behind the bodies of the last two men protecting him. In the midst of the exchange of fire, he and a single bodyguard were attempting to make an escape.
In a strategic move that was indicative of his current tolerance, John clipped both the man and the politician in both legs to prevent any further chase. He simply did not feel like having to run the man down any longer. His patience had already run low the day prior and he wanted the mission over as soon as possible.
Having done that, John quickly finished off the remaining men until no more shots rang out.
There was no sound in the room except for the pained groans of his severely injured quarry as the frightened man attempted to crawl away from the literal personification of death dressed in a dark suit. His trembling outstretched hands gripped the cold pavement, desperately trying his best to pull himself to safety. A safety that very likely wouldn't be reached or found.
In measured steps, John began to approach him like an apex predator stalking its prey.
Face ashen white and wincing in pain, the political leader kept looking back to see John approaching in slow pursuit. The man's eyes grew even wider and fearful, nearly bulging out of the socket. For a man in his position, it had to be utterly frightening to not be in control of the situation unfolding around him - not to be able to talk or bribe his way out of the current predicament.
"No, no wait!" He shouted, holding a hand out in a bid for mercy. "I can pay you double what they're offering you."
John's face remained unchanged and he offered no comment.
The man continued on a sputtering tirade of pleas in an effort to save his own skin. Anything that would get him out of the deathly situation he was currently in, beseeching like a man genuinely trying to preserve his life and not have it snuffed out. He'd seen this many times before. He's seen fear on many occasions in many different circumstances and he understands the logistics of it.
At the present, John was a valid threat to his life and he had accurately perceived it as so. This man was afraid, and rightfully so, the reason being was because he knew his death was imminent regardless of whether he wanted it or not.
Because what is fear without reason?
With fear being so deeply ingrained into human biology as a body's natural reaction to distress, it was considered one of the most genuine and life-altering emotions.
Nonetheless, John maintained his silence; merely reloading a cartilage in the chamber.
Ultimately, when it all was said and done the hitman would hear none of it. He had been paid to kill the man not to accumulate any sort of sympathy for him and his situation. From the beginning, he'd known full well what he was doing was wrong and now he had to pay the consequences for those actions. Typically, wronging a significant figure in the business usually leads to something like this and he would not be the exception.
Having heard enough and not wanting to delay the inevitable, John aimed the pistol and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out even louder in the empty surrounding area of the building.
As of now, he was the only living person amidst a sea of bodies and he could help but think that Charlie and his crew were going to have a field day sanitizing the area.
With the mission now complete, John turned and simply left.
You literally cannot do this shit.
Considering that you'd spent an inordinate amount of time sitting at the kitchen table completing assignments and attempting to study for various classes, you thought by starting off gathering sources for a research paper, that would leave you plenty of time to study afterwards. You had a test coming up in a week and you needed to be on your A game. You've reread this same paragraph five times now and it was lowkey starting to irritate the shit out of you.
For while you'd be doing good then you'd make the mistake of picking up your phone to scroll and thirty minutes would go by without you even noticing. You can't study when the urge to scroll every social media app on your phone is prevalent. And it doesn't help when your concentration is easily thrown off by the smallest thing. In your own defense, when it came to studying you haven't been the best at managing your time but you were making an effort.
Staying in bed all day was always tempting but not when the thought of having a shit ton of assignments to do was floating in the back of your mind. The sooner you get it done the more you can actually relax. It's crazy how much you missed being in school but you didn't miss having all this work that came with it.
By the fourth hour, you'd already gone through five different mental stages ranging from reluctance to defeated acceptance.
You even attempted to use your friends as an excuse but Jasmine ended up having to do a weekend clinical and Alexis unexpectedly got called in to cover a shift for one of her coworkers. When you picked up your phone to call Tre, he flat out told you to stop procrastinating and 'do your damn work' before hanging up. With that initial plan of getting on your friends nerves immediately shelved, that actively left you with nothing to do but focus on your priorities. Because of that, you had to double down to avoid any form of procrastination. You hate how annoyingly rational your brain was choosing to be today.
Sighing heavily, you pushed away from the table. You needed to give your brain a small break at least then you'd be ready to get back at it.
Sweetface, who'd been resting on the floor nearby, immediately perked up. The pup could probably sense the frustration wafting off of you in waves. This must've him to come forward, bringing his paws to rest on your thighs before nudging his head affectionately into your abdomen. All the while, his tail wagged excitedly. This made you smile.
Judging by his body language, he'd been waiting patiently for you to give attention and was pleasantly happy that you finally saw fit to give it to him.
A thought nagging suddenly occurred to you.
"Do you miss your daddy?"
The dog looked at you with somewhat inquisitive eyes, displaying an emotion you didn't think dogs were capable of.
"I miss him too."
It had been a full day since you last heard from him. This wasn't unusual of course, sometimes he went hours or even days without contacting you while he was gone on business. Still, that little gaggle of worry wouldn't leave your mind. And although you pretty much had a good idea, you wondered what he was doing at this very moment.
"Did you enjoy your stay Mr. Wick?"
"As best I could."
The concierge nodded, tapping at the keyboard in practiced motions. The gentle hum of the lobby progressed as patrons continued to check in and out of the hotel.
Another distinct voice soon grabbed his attention.
"Jonathan."
The hitman turned to his left, watching mutely as the hotel manager approached.
"...it's been some time."
"It has."
"It's been some time since we last spoke my friend. I simply wanted to take your measure, see how you were doing. This latest mission was a success I presume?"
"It was."
"Good to hear. I know you can be quite the workhorse when you see fit. I'd heard tell you were in Europe a week prior. Business I presume?"
Straightaway, John took note of the expectant expression along the manager's features before he answered.
"Personal trip."
"Oh? Is that so?"
The other man nodded stiffly.
John knew he had to maintain a calm demeanor, anything other than that would be deemed out of character.
"...and were you mostly unaccompanied for the trip perhaps?"
John's eyes narrowed slightly, lips pressed into a straight line. "Why do you ask?"
The manager's line of questioning seemed slightly accusatory despite how it was being phrased. Both men glared at each other, refusing to back down.
"Of all the years we've known each other and been in this business. I've never known you to undertake a trip to another country that wasn't about business."
The atmosphere was suddenly filled with arresting tension. There was the impression that the hitman was being placed under a magnifying glass of scrutiny.
"This pattern of behavior is…questionable and I'm merely showing concern as a longtime friend." Winston asserted.
John, never one to skirt around any issue with anyone, asked a direct question. "What is it you're trying to say Winston?"
"Jonathan, I want to ask you this man to man." A weighted silence past between he spoke again, this time taking a more serious and quieter tone. "Is there something you're not telling me? Something you don't want anyone to know."
"No." The assassin answered curtly.
The older man appeared unmoved by his friend's response as he stood with his arms poised behind his back.
"Remember Jonathan…nothing in this world stays a secret for long."
Sending him a cursory glance, John's voice was flat and toneless as he responded, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
For another hour, you attempted to force yourself to study before you ultimately gave up and took up vigorously cleaning the house from top to bottom so you wouldn't feel guilty about not utilizing your time productively. Frankly, you didn't plan for it but obviously this is what your day would consist of.
Random but ultimately useful decisions.
Usually, you would wait until Sunday to do these kinds of chores but the opportunity couldn't be passed up. Throughout the week, you didn't have time to do them and the house could get messy fairly quickly. While you were pretty big on the idea that the weekend was supposed to be spent relaxing, you didn't want to feel some type of way about not taking advantage of these sudden bursts of energy.
The first thing you did was begin the process of decluttering and placing items where they belonged. Next, you started by taking down and putting away all the Christmas decorations you hadn't had time to do since you came home from vacation. Now that you think about it, you pretty much spent Christmas elsewhere so the decorations kind of seemed pointless. It was just a chore taking it all down as it was putting it up. In the end, it took two hours and you nearly fell off the ladder twice.
The main thing that kept you going was the satisfaction of having and being in a clean house.
In the kitchen, you took it a step further by making sure to organize the pantry. After that, you started sweeping and mopping the floors like nobody's business. Next you moved on to folding and putting away laundry.
Sweetface sometimes tracked in moisture and dirt from outside after being let out to relieve himself. Mud and grime practically clung to his paws and you couldn't have that. Not when he liked to lounge on the furniture in the house. You decided to give him a bath. What shocked you was how well behaved he was during the bath, most dogs aren't that open to the idea. He actually sat still and let you scrub him down and when you were done you made sure to give him a treat.
The rigorous deep cleaning took about five hours to do and it felt like you'd done a full workout. Having gotten that out of the way, you took off the gloves and wiped the sweat from your brow.
Honestly, everything looked amazing, from the kitchen, to the living room, to the upstairs rooms, you were quite proud of your efforts. The energy you're running on hasn't depleted yet but you know the nap you're going to take later will be heavenly.
Cleaning the house got you thinking about your neglected apartment that you haven't stayed at for weeks. Sooner or later, you'd have to go and do some kind of tidying up there as well.
With the house now spotless, you were pretty much at a loss of what to do next.
Standing in the pristine space of the kitchen, you begrudgingly, you eyed the thick textbook on the table once more. The people smiling on the cover seemed as though they were mocking you and you preparing to send them the biggest fuck you.
When John walked through the door of his home, he expected to be greeted by the other occupants of the house. Despite the late hour, the man was surprised to find that that would not be the case. Having not greeted him at the door like you usually would've, he'd drawn the conclusion that you could be otherwise preoccupied or sleeping.
A strange curiosity came over him as he ventured down the foyer towards the front room. Just as he rounded the corner, the man was not surprised to find his latter assumption was correct.
Not only were you fast asleep but a certain canine companion had also taken it upon himself to join you. He was stretched across your legs, opening his eyes a fraction the moment he sensed his owner in the room. He was more or less your dog now. The two of you had formed quite a close bond that had only seemed to deepen as of late.
The living room was dim with minimal light shining throughout the space from a single lamp. There on the couch, you lay sprawled out in what clearly appeared to be a deep sleep. Soft facial features relaxed, long lashes fanning your cheeks and mouth parted slightly. Chest rising and falling with each delicate breath. From his standing position, he could even make out the light utterance from your mouth that knew to be a snore.
With atypical openness, hitman's gaze softened on seeing you in such a vulnerable state - his own source of contentment.
Considering, it was rare for you to fall asleep on the couch, you must've tuckered yourself out quite nicely and hadn't meant to. An open textbook lay on the floor next to the couch and knew he'd found the source of your current predicament. From what you divulged to him, you had quite a lot of responsibilities on your shoulders and you spoke about it in great detail when asked. It was no secret that you were often left tired by the day's end. Not to mention that, you'd grown prone to oversleeping lately.
At some point, he would have to move you to the bed, he was loath to disturb you.
Stirring unexpectedly, you inhaled a deep breath, lashes fluttering once before they slowly parted. "Hey…I didn't hear you come in."
"I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't…I could smell you in the room." You explained, eyes filled with warm fondness.
Brows furrowing, he chose not to linger on the strangeness of that statement.
At that moment, the pooch yawned before jumping from the couch all together, likely to find his bed and continue his previous interrupted sleep.
"Welcome home." You sleepily greeted with a small smile.
Very gently, one of John's arms came around your shoulders while the other slipped under your knees. You were soon lifted into his arms, cocooned into his broad chest while he carried you out of the room. Your face was situated in the crook of his neck, the assassin made sure you were secured as he carefully ascended the staircase. Your lover unhurriedly ambled into the darkened bedroom the two of you shared where he gently laid you on the bed, doing so with meticulous gentleness. He fully intended to pull the sheet over your body when he paused abruptly as a slender hand came up to caress his cheek.
"I'm so happy you're back." You said, smiling drowsily.
After a few moments, the hand fell away as you dozed off once again. In a moment of tenderness, John caught the small appendage before it hit the bedspread.
In the shadowy moonlight from the partially open window, John tilted his raven head, the corner of his mouth twitched in a miniscule motion. No matter how you tried, you couldn't resist the insistent lure of sleep. He held the small appendage for a few more moments before tenderly placing it next to your sleeping face.
Soundlessly, in small, unobtrusive motions, he went about removing the various weapons from his body. Afterwards, he loosened the tie from around his neck in practiced, half-formed movements.
Brows drawn together and jaw clenched, John internally contemplated the situation at hand.
Since his talk with Winston in the lobby, anxiety eclipsed his thoughts - while most of it was subconscious he couldn't ignore how the hotel manager's words echoed incessantly in the troubled recesses of his mind.
"Remember Jonathan, nothing stays a secret for long." The words felt like a terrible omen.
Not to mention that, Winston's intent and actions were heavily disconcerting to him. He'd made the inference that the man was trying to get information out of him - information he did not want known to anyone in the business. Friend or not, the man had overstepped well beyond what the hitman was willing to allow. He remained guarded for this reason alone and trusted his own judgment above all else. When he establishes clear boundaries he expects no one to cross them.
On top of that, John had the sneaking suspicion that Winston knew of his desire to leave the business once more. He did not even have to say as much but the men knew each other well enough to hint at each other's thoughts.
Another major problem now was the discretion of their relationship being compromised. Taking in account that Winston, despite trying to press him for answers, hadn't shown any indication that he actually had knowledge of the clandestine relationship. However, it was possible that someone else could be aware of its existence. Lucien had potentially spotted you and him together in Belgium, however, he hadn't given the impression that he suspected anything was amiss or at least put together that you and him were romantically involved. Still, it was something he had not accounted for at the time.
People tend to make assumptions about what they don't know and it can be problematic for a number of reasons. Not only that but he never gave anyone a reason to pry deeper into his life to find out.
As a strict professional in his field, John had always maintained a level of intense privacy. He didn't need the hotel owner or anyone else meddling in his private life. He did not want a single soul prying into the new life he was trying to cultivate with you.
If you were to be exposed as his lover, you could also be seen as a potential weakness for enemies. Admittedly, there were many who would seek to capitalize on such an opportunity. For such a rare opportunity to present itself…made for quite the temptation.
And it was the very thought that you may be placed in danger because of his unforeseeable actions. And those actions included taking out an entire trafficking operation for her not once but twice. John had come to the conclusion that it was entirely necessary.
The first incident should've served as a warning and it was obvious that it was not seen as such. So upon him discovering that they were making plans to retrieve their 'lost stock', he ensured that their plans would not be taking place. Trafficking was a cruel and extremely lucrative business trade and many members of the underworld dealt in it heavily. Where there was money and business exchange to be made, disruption of any kind will almost always be met with retribution or consequence. While he was not entirely sure whose operation he'd dismantled, he was always certain that they would be on the hunt for who was responsible. Something would be done and it was only a matter of time.
Considering that he was smart enough not to leave a trail that led back to him, that still didn't mean he wouldn't be suspected. After all, who else could eliminate an entire criminal enterprise and go undetected?
While it may be justified in the eyes of some, others might not share the same sentiment. Regardless, he found that he didn't care. As an established man in his given profession, he did what needed to be done to ensure the safety of his domestic partner. He did what a reasonable man would do….and he did not regret it.
Any slight against him would be dealt with retaliation. That was a proven fact.
Despite it happening some time ago, it did not mean the incident had been forgotten especially by those who were charged with operating it. In a somewhat ironic parallel, it seemed that he would have to deal with his own set of consequences stemming from his action just like that man whose life he carelessly took earlier. Regardless, it was an issue that would be accounted for should anything arise from his actions.
Nevertheless, there was a sense of imminent danger, the sense of a threat looming. He practically felt the dread swirling in his stomach.
Granted, the man was not worried about the ramifications on his part as it pertained to him, he was solely concerned for your well-being and nothing else. He worried about what could happen to you in the midst of any fall out.
The assassin's eyes held an uncharacteristic glint. There in the space where no one could see, he let the alien feeling wash over him. He acknowledged it for what it was - the very emotion he thought himself immune from…
Genuine all encompassing fear.
The hitman had grown too numb and detached over the years to process it in its entirety. Fear was such a precarious, subjective state for one to be in. Processing his emotions had never been difficult but he found that he was more in touch with them than he originally believed. Although he could see why these feelings have suddenly manifested themselves in him.
As a man, he had his own anxieties like everyone else but for him to actually experience the rawness of the emotion itself was another thing entirely. It was such a vital, instinctual response for someone in his predicament. While fear was rational, he could not let it unman him.
He was the deadliest man in the known world. Before this…before you, he had nothing to fear - not even death itself. But so much had changed. The truth of the matter was he feared for you - he feared for you quite deeply.
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