Thrust Into His Arms

Chapter 87: Chapter 87 Change Of Kill

"Are you still tracking me?

I thought you said you wouldn’t anymore?"

This man is a fucking creep. I first found out he was tracking me during my sophomore year. I was so pissed at him for it. He said he would stop. I believed he had until now. Fuck. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

I am the idiot for trusting he did.

"Oh. Did I?" I picture him with that annoying nonchalant grin on his face. It will soon progress into a satisfied laughter.

"Even so, you cannot blame me. I have to keep a close eye on you. What kind of uncle would I be if I am not aware of my only nephew’s dealings? I know of everything you do son. Including those two girls that are still sleeping in your bed. None of them have woken up yet. Are you sure didn’t fuck them to death last night?"

"Uncle Bryan!" I exploded, hissing. He laughs loudly. "Why? Is my baby pissed?" I fucking hate it when he calls me baby. He knows that. I remove the phone from my ear to breathe and calm down before putting it back. "You are right.

I decided to not go through with it. That is because I saw his son with him and I grew softhearted. I didn’t want to kill him in presence of his son. Happy now?"

"Hmmm. Good job son." My forehead knits in surprise. Did he just say good job?

"It seems we are sort of telepathetic. If I had even shook hands with your mother, there could have been the possibility of me being your father." Geez. I don’t know if I should be grossed out on that. "It is telepathic. Not telepathetic." I correct. "And what is this about?"

"I had tried to inform you to not kill Jones anymore. But you did not answer your phone. You can’t imagine my pleasant surprise when I discovered that you did not do it. Good job once again." He commends. "Hold on," I’m confused. He clears his throat.

"I have realized that it would be better to get rid of the golden goose rather than just its eggs. Leave Jones and kill McVey now. You have four hours to do so. Since it is impromptu, I had offered a little help by sabotaging his favorite campaign car. He is calling someone from a car company to come fix it a few hours from now. The rest is in your hands."

"You want me to kill McVey and not Jones now? I don’t understand." I say. I think of something. "Wait. . . was it a test? Did you even want him dead at all in the first place?"

It is very suspicious. Him saying he couldn’t get to me to tell me to abort the assignment is a fucking fat lie. I know my uncle more than anyone else. And believe me when I say that he is more than sneaky. His cunningness knows no end. Could Thomas Jones have been another one of his tests? His laugh tone increases. I picture him doubling over and holding his stomach. And it is frickin annoying. I feel like a fool and a guinea pig at the same time. "You know, I seriously thought long and hard if I could raise you then. But now it is obvious that I have done a perfect job. I deserve some praise credit don’t I?"

Praise credit? "Aside from the death training, you were not involved in my upbringing. You weren’t around much. I and Sam practically raised ourselves." A cold silence ensued when I say that. He doesn’t like it when I mention my twin brother. He likes to pretend he does not exist.

He wants me to do the same also. But I won’t even if I can. "I believe you can figure it out and get it done. You are more than smart. That is why I ask you to carry out these missions. And mind you; this is not an assignment that you can decide to fail. It is a mission. Succeeding is a must. You have four hours.

Make sure that bastard does not get on his campaign." And then he hangs up. Leaving me with a hundred unanswered questions. Damn this man. He is so fucking unpredictable. He has tons of people for things like this. But he much prefers when I do it. Aside from it being a part of training, it is always a chance to further prove myself and add to the reasons why I would be fit as the next in line to succeed him.

I don’t really like the idea much. Being the overall leader of the blood-soaked mafioso empire and dealings. I don’t know what to expect. But I am thinking worst. But there lies the ultimate power that I can’t turn down. Power gives you the right to do anything.

It is something I would never refuse. If it comes to kill or be killed, I would always choose the kill option. I’m past the choosing stage anyway now since I am already a low-key assassin. I listen to the call audio again and again before I fully grasp the whole thing. Kill George McVey. His campaign car sabotaged. People from a repair car company already called to fix it. A sniper would attract attention, which is unnecessary.

Same thing with a kidnapping. So that leaves only one clean, hassle-free option. Bombing. For someone like me, getting enough C4, or whatever kind of explosives

to bring up hell is as easy to come by as a pack of condoms and cigarettes. The next, is applying a little illegal computer skills. I’m not as great as Curtis and Lucas with a computer. But I can hack into one or two things on my own without needing their help.

It takes me a while to find the email he had sent to the car repair company and then cancelling his request. My plan is go repair his car instead and send him on a nice one-way trip. Because he won’t be returning.