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Porsche

"Did we lose him?" I asked.

"Yes. Which way did he go?" Big asked as he shone the head lamps down the road.

Speeding along the highway, it was obvious we lost Jack's car.

A gunshot from behind us shook the motorbike and I realized the back tyre had punctured.

Losing control of the handle, Big managed to maneuver the bike to the side of the road before it lost control.  The rest of the tyre scratched off and we crashed into a ditch.

"Are you okay, khun Porsche?" Big asked.

I wasn't sure at the point. I could barely feel my hands and legs. I must have broken a bone or two.

"I think I'm..."

I managed to wriggle my body out of the motorbike wreckage when another gunshot went off. It was closer.

My eyes widened as I saw Big slumped flat on the floor. Blood suddenly dripped from his battered lips.

"Big...?"

Big​ laid motionless in the cold grass. "Big?" I called again and there was no answer. I looked ahead to see a man walk toward me with a irritating white lights from a torch blinding my eyes.

"Why did you shoot him?" I yelled. "Why did you shoot him you freaking coward!"

Jack turned off the torch and sighed. "I hate you Porsche. See what you made me do." came his annoying voice. The voice that I dreaded to hear even in my dreams. I held my right arm as pain shot up my spine. I also limped from a bruised knee.
"Jack...what the hell is this? What are you doing?"

Jack smirked. "If I can't have you no one else will."

I swallowed as he grabbed my aggressively. I winced in pain while he pulled me behind him. He opened the door to the passenger seat and pushed me inside then he shut the door.

He walked around the car and got into the driver's seat.

"You can remove your mask now, it's just me and you," Jack muttered.

I shut my eyes for a moment, drifting between reality and my past. Suppressed memories came bursting through the veins of my head. But I didn't let it get to me. I wouldn't give jack the opportunity to use my past to guilt trip me into doing his bidding.

"What do you want with me?" I asked, painfully gritting my teeth.

"I gave you too many chances," Jack said as he adjusted his lean body in the driver's seat. He brought out a pack of cigarettes from the dash board and lit a stick with a lighter he took from of shirt pocket. "You think I'm a fool?"

"Well you do act like one most of the time," I snapped.

Jack ignored me. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and pulled it apart revealing a mafia tribal tattoo, the dark jigsaw, maze like marks that ran from his left pectoral all the way down his left arm. "I had this tattoo the same day with you, remember."

"That was a long time ago."

"And I haven't forgotten!" Jack retorted. He puffed smoke in the air and glanced at me, he had a death stare in his gray eyes.
"I sent distorting messages to Kinn but somehow he always deflected. I told him his beloved husband has been sending messages to the Yakuzas."

"You're crazy. You know that's a lie!"

"I wanted him to be the fool. So he would lose his respect, but luckily, for some fuckin damned reasons he chose you over and over again."

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