Hitman- / 'hit.mæn/
• a person who is paid to kill someone, especially for a criminal or political organization.
'THE EXECUTIONER' was a name that many people knew and feared but the ones who caught a glimpse, didn't live very long to t...
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Charming, California 2008
Jax sat on his bed in his dorm room as he held the newly printed divorce papers in his hand. At the bottom, Angelise's signature was taunting him as it spread across the dotted line.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he reached over toward the small table next to his bed and pulled open the top drawer before picking up a pen in his hand.
Eyeing the document again, he felt his heart sink and a small sting pricking the back of his eyes at the thought of losing his angel forever. Inhaling a shaky breath, he shook his head before crumbling the paper and tossing it in the drawer, along with the pen, and closing it.
No, he wasn't gonna let her go, he didn't care if she kicked, screamed, punched, or served him with multiple papers, she was his, 'til death did them part.
Hearing loud commotion coming from outside, he furrowed his eyebrows and stood up before exiting his room. Entering the club, he saw cops filled the room while everyone was lying on their fronts when a uniform rushed him and slammed him into the wall before shoving him on the ground.
"Don't move!" the cop yelled at him while pointing his gun in Jax's back.
A few cops swarmed around Bobby before picking him up and cuffing his hands behind his back.
"Robert Munson," one of them spoke. "You're under arrest for the murder of Brenan Hefner."
Bobby gave him a feigned look of confusion. "Who?"
The cop shoved him as he read him his rights while walking out the door. Angelise closed her eyes as she internally cursed the club for being so careless in going after Hefner, seeing as she took care of it.
Stahl walked up to the small group with a smug look on her face. "Well, well, well, look what we have here."
Gemma turned to her side and hawked a spit at Stahl. "Bitch!"
Stahl turned toward her and gave her a hard kick in her abdomen as they other screamed in protest. Wiping her hair from her face, she called out over her shoulder. "You can come in now!"
The others looked at each other in confusion as a pair of polished shoes entered the trashed club. Shards of glass crushed beneath their feet before they came to a stop in front of Angelise.
"Pick her up." they told the other cops and two men picked her up before placing her on her feet.
Angelise's face grew pale as her green eyes met those familiar black eyes that haunted her the last eighteen years of her life. Theodore Welsby, was really alive, and standing right in front of her.
