Secret Affection

Chapter 8

It's been two weeks since I last saw Grace. It's been three days since I stopped calling her to just get her voicemail. Roy is completely confused, but who could blame him. There's always a reason two people that used to do everything together for most of their lives just stop talking to each other. I wasn't about to tell him that my best friend, the one I went to everything about, confessed her undying love to me while she wasn't fully sober.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by yet another text message from James. Not seeing my friends has given me a lot of time to make some money, or as the 'upholding citizens' of New York would consider murder. After the contract at the club, I had even more police officers trying to track me down. You would think they would look up the victims backgrounds, right? Rapists, domestic abusers, sex traffickers, but no, I'm the villain in this situation

'Another contract. You're getting more popularity, Bullet. The next one is going to be a doozy, seeming how it's public.'

I stop reading the message, groaning and throwing my head back. I place my feet on my coffee table and look back down towards the message,

'Anthony Myers.'

Isn't that an attorney?

'New York's second best attorney.'

Well.

'Has been hiding files upon files of fraud. He has been threatening his clients of throwing their cases unless they do sexual or other forms of dirty favors for him. Myers has a well-known case undergoing, the end of the trial is today at 4:00. There will be a crowd, don't be seen, don't get caught. Good luck.'

I lock my phone, tossing it next to me on the couch. I stand up, making my way into my bedroom to throw on clothes that cover my identity. Settling on a pair of slightly ripped, black skinny jeans, a plain v-neck with a black sweatshirt and black combat boots. I tie my hair into a tight bun and slip a skull cap over my head. Grabbing my sunglasses and my phone, I make my way out of my loft and towards my car. Making sure my rifle is in my trunk, I climb in my car and make my way to city hall.

This is going to be one of the dumbest things I have ever done in my life.

I pull into a parking garage and climb out of my car. The first thing I look for is security cameras. Seeing one right above my car and one at the stairs towards the streets, I roll my eyes.

Of course.

I open my trunk, pulling out two small jammers, turning them on. I pull my hood over my head, jumping towards the first camera, slapping the jammer behind it.

One down.

I look around before tossing my rifle around my shoulder. Looking at the time, I notice I have ten minutes before I miss my shot. I jog towards the stairs, hiding around the wall to place the jammer for the second camera.

And I'm clear.

I jog up the stairs to the top floor of the garage, keeping an eye out for random people getting off work and retreating to their cars. Leaning over the side of the barrier, I see that the entrance to city hall is a few buildings down. I pull my phone out, seeing I have two minutes until my contract needs completed. I set my rifle against the barricade, adjusting my sights and pull up my sunglasses so I could see.

There's already a crowd of people outside of the doors, mostly reporters and protestors. Once the doors open, there's an older man surrounded by three burly men. I scoff, making sure my shot goes between the two front men's shoulders.

If I didn't want to be infamous, this wasn't the contract to take.

I sigh, pulling the trigger. Not even five seconds later, the older man is laying dead on the ground and the three men are yelling into their earpieces. I put my sunglasses back over my eyes and am about to take my leave, but sirens are heard through the streets. I turn around, seeing multiple police cars in front of the hall and quite a few officers running down the streets.