Wrong Place, Right Time?

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It had been a two days since you saw him. You had a few jobs that consisted of tying up loose ends for your boss. You felt as if you were not fully awake. You were just a zombie that was going through the motions to convince the world that you were alive. (I wonder in which room he is staying!!!) There goes your mind again, you thought. It was running on the same track, playing the same song again and again. [John Wick borrowed coins from me!!! He asked me to call him by his first name!!!) It was very strange for you. In the evening, you found yourself heading down from your room to your chosen tailor as you were in need of a few tactical suits. You checked your gun which was fitted with a silencer and a few knives which you carry in holsters belts on your thigh. You were very well aware of the occupational hazards of your job so you don't go anywhere without any kind of weapons.

As you passed by the Room 204, you thought you heard a commotion. You decided to investigate further and pressed your ear on the door. You knew those were some telltale signs of fighting which were not supposed to occur in this hotel. The Continental Hotel in New York is a high-end luxurious hotel which catered to regular customers as well as acted as a neutral ground for hitmen and assassins like her and John Wick. Someone must be in serious trouble and as a fellow hitwoman/assassin, you felt you needed to intervene. You broke in the door and you were not prepared at all for the scene that greeted you. John Wick in a white shirt and boxers had been strangling a person with a bedsheet. His room looked like the aftermath of a tornado. The person who was being choked had been putting up hell of a fight. You knew that he was injured and until you or him killed or knocked the person out, he or she would continue fighting until John Wick was dead.

You quickly came over and drove the butt of your pistol on the attacker's head, knocking him/her out cold. "Thank you," John Wick, the deadly assassin, Death's Own Emissary muttered as he tried to get up. You proceeded to help him up. His face was littered with bleeding cuts and his clothes were covered with blood stains. His beautiful black hair, always neatly arranged, was dishevelled. He was clutching his right side from where he was bleeding. He must have tore his stitches open. You pulled back the bedsheet from the attacker's face and gasped loudly. "Miss Perkins?" You asked him. "There"s a bounty on my head," he answered. "But, fighting or killing in Continental grounds... Oh!" You replied as it slowly dawned on you.

You spent the next few hours tending to his injuries while he tried to stop you. "What will you do about her?" You asked him. You did not get any reply other than, " I need bourbon." You poured him a glass and stood awkwardly near him as he laid down on the bed, wincing and grunting. "I.. I have been meaning return the gold coins that I took from you," He said. "John, who is behind all this? Who sent her after you?" You thought that he wasn't going to answer you until you heard his tired voice----- "Viggo Tasarov. His son killed my dog and stole my car." You hissed and almost jumped out of your seat. "If you need any help or anything," but he cut you off. "You should go. Thank you for helping me, Dominika." He said, and you noticed the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"But John..." You started to say but his look stopped you from saying any further. You gave a slight nod to him and left his room. You had informed the concierge of the incident at John Wick's room. You found yourself feeling glum and helpless as you ran your errands and got the stuff that you needed. You wished he would open up to you and told you that he needed help. But knowing John, he would never do that. He rarely asked for help from his closest friends let alone an acquaintance like her. You felt terrible and sleep eluded you that night so you remained awake, drinking till dawn. Then you ended up with the worst hangover you have ever had in your life.

So you took a lot of advil and sleeping pills with your drink and fell asleep at 7 am. You were woken up at 10 am by a phone call from the front desk. It was Charon who asked you about your well-being and informed you that the manager wanted to meet you in his room. You took a quick shower and made yourself presentable before you made your way downstairs. You entered the manager's room and found him eating a pastry. "Dessert for lunch, Winston?" You asked smiling as he gestured for you to take a seat. "Do you know why I summoned you, Miss Zelenková?" He asked. You just shook your head, smiling. "Its because of Mr. Wick..." He answered, sipping his drink. You knew your eyes were as big as baseballs. "I don't understand. I did not do anything to him," you tried to assure him.

"I know how you feel about him. He may be oblivious to these things, but I noticed how you behave when he is around," he stated with a sly smile. OH MY GOD! HELL NO! You might have already guessed that he had called you in his room to tell you off. "No, Mr. Winston, I think you are gravely mistaken. I admire and respect him as my colleague and that's it." However, the manager just scoffed. "Jonathan is one of our most esteemed guest and he is also like the son I never had. He is in danger and he is too stubborn to ask for help..." He said watching you closely.

"What are you saying..." You asked again, not sure of his intentions. "Must I spell everything out for you, Miss Zelenková? What does your heart tell you?" He answered, rolling his eyes. "He needs a shadow..." You whispered. "There we are. I think we have similar interests." Winston replied, smirking. He took out two golden coins from his pocket and pushed them towards me. But you rose from your seat, chin up, looking down at him. "You don't need to pay me to keep an eye on someone I love," you said, making him raise an eyebrow. Then you marched out of his room.

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