Beyond the Crosshair (Hitman!Jones x Reader)

CHAPTER 5. THE HITMAN

Natalya swung her arm forward, her blade glinting beneath the light from the windows. I dodged. She struck again, not missing a beat. But for every strike, I had a counter or a dodge.

She got frustrated and leapt back, clicking her tongue.

"It's rude to click your tongue, Natalie" I leered, holding up my knife, "Didn't your dear brother told you that?"

She threw me another glare.

"Woah!" I twisted my body, her blade almost cut my cheek.

She spun around and threw a kick. I caught her foot, pulled it and then threw her back. She fell backwards, but gained back her balance with her free hand. She pushed herself up and swung her entire body into a standing position.

"Tell me something, Gogo, why do you hate my guts so much? I mean sure, I'm a real son of a bitch, but so is Ivan and you love him" It wasn't like I really cared. I gave two shits about Natalya's opinion of me, but the question has crossed my mind. She never liked anyone but her older brother, but saying that she hated me would be a major understatement. The woman has been repeatedly trying to kill me since the day we met. And we were barely teenagers back then.

"Why does it matter to you?" She stepped forward.

"It doesn't" I parried her blow and decided to stop being on the defensive. I thrust my knife, barely missing her brow.

"I just think we should settle this bad blood between us before I wipe the floor with you"

"My brother"

I jumped to the side, recovering quickly to block.

"What about him?"

"My brother never once smiled, but he and I were content with our lives. And then one day, that German creep brought you to Siberia and you..." She stopped for a moment, gritting her teeth "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING"

The blade flew over our heads, hitting the cement wall and then dropping to the floor with a shing.

Natalya clenched her fists.

"I did?" I held my weapon to her face.

She tsched and bent her body backward, too fast for me to react. She kicked my hand and I was soon unarmed.

Natalya punched me in the gut, sending me to the wall.

I recovered just in time to move out of the way when she delivered another kick towards my face. I tried to catch her leg but she drew it back to fast.

She tried to hit me again.

I grabbed her wrist and twisted her around with her arm bent behind her. I didn't waste a second.

She let out a blood-curling scream. She shook when I ripped her arm off its socket. I let her go and she struggled to stay on two feet.

Natalya was strong, and fast, very fast—a bullet from a gun. It was a difficult task to keep her still, and even harder to lay a hand on her.

So when you finally get to hit her, you will quickly realize that for all those skills, she lacked one important trait: durability.

She collapsed to her knees and crawled away, muttering all sorts of things in Russian.

I took out my handgun, walking towards her body, slumped over the wall.

She glanced up, eyes bearing the harshness of Siberian winter.

"You son of a..."

I pulled the trigger.

"Good night, Natalya"