Grace scooped up the little boy who had been kicking a rock across the Sanctuary courtyard into her arms.

‘‘Well, that sound’s like a personal issue.’’

Good question though. Kinda hard, even. The hitman really isn’t sure. Recognized him at a gas station, left that alone on a very awkward note, never to see each other again Adam had thought. But then there was the bar, then Trevor’s place… And that scenario repeated itself a few times after that before seeing each other regularly.

Could have been the crude and shitty attitude they shared. Easier to get along with another asshole then trying to play decent for the everyday person. The partner in crime kind of deal.

mommy

‘’Tryin’ to H E L P? Shit---’’

‘‘By jabbing you’re filthy fuckin’ fingers where it hurts? I don’t want your damn help!’’ The hitman hissed between gritted teeth, a bloody, dirt coated hand grabbed Trevor’s wrist and shoved his hand away. He was acting no better then a bratty shit kid at that point. Adam rolled himself onto his side to give a pathetic attempt to get himself on his feet. Staggering in a jagged line and grunting with every step he dragged himself along.

He fell heavy against his car for support. Short of breath from that small of distance.