"Do you normally make-out with the people you're hired to kill? It doesn't strike me as very professional."
"Put the gun down," Gabriel panted, not answering her.
"Why on earth would I do that?"
"Because you're not going to shoot me," Gabriel rep...
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Ash arrived at the Hudson Yards subway station a little past four in the morning. As she emerged from the station, she scanned her surroundings. Hudson Yards was far darker and quieter than Midtown, which made it significantly more ominous. She tensed even more as she noticed the figure of a man walking towards her. Part of her wished she had a weapon, but part of her knew that if she did, it would be confiscated anyway.
"I've got her," she overheard the man say into his cell phone as he approached. "Yes, she's alone."
She studied the face of the man once he was close enough that she could make it out. He didn't look at all familiar, and his facial expression gave absolutely nothing away. The outline of a gun in his pocket was unmistakable, but his hand was nowhere near it, as if he didn't anticipate using it. Maybe that was a good sign?
"Come with me," the man ordered, hanging up the phone.
She followed obediently as he led her to a nearby warehouse. Three other men were waiting inside as she entered, including Rob. He flashed a smile, filling her with rage. "Ashlyn," he said warmly. "Welcome."
"Where is my brother?" she asked evenly, trying to keep her temper under control. He said he would take care of Carter. He lied. She didn't want to ask him politely. She wanted to rip out his intestines and use them to choke him.
"He's fine," Rob replied dismissively.
"I want to see him."
"No."
Ash had no idea what possessed her to lunge at Rob given the fact that she was outnumbered and at least one of the men had a gun, but she did so anyway - kicking, punching, hitting, scratching. It didn't take long for him to pin her to the ground - she wasn't a strong fighter - but she was satisfied to see bloody scratches on his face.
"Rob, the boss says to let her see him," the first man interjected, holding his phone to his ear once again.
Rob kept her pinned to the ground for a moment, staring at her angrily. Then, the infuriatingly calm smile spread back across his face. He wiped the blood away and stood, then yanked her forcefully up off the floor. As she winced from the pain, he pushed her forward. "Walk."
Ash followed Rob's directions until they reached an open space in the middle of the warehouse. An unconscious boy with curly, blue-tipped hair sat in the center of the space, with his hands, legs, and shoulders tied to a chair.
"Carter," Ash breathed, running to him. She put her hand on the side of his face, surprised to find it prickly to the touch. Stubble? He was 17 now, almost 18, she had to remind herself. He wasn't a boy anymore.
Concerned, she held his wrist, checking for a pulse. It took her barely a second to find it: slightly slower than normal, but still strong. Closing her eyes in relief, she slumped to the ground still holding his hand.
"I always told you he was your biggest weakness," her father's voice echoed inside her head. "I told you to get your feelings under control, but you never listened."
