Chapter 13: Taking Out The Trash
Haley’s chest violently heaved as she stared at the silver barrel of Victor’s gun.
Her internal monologue was screaming in absolute panic. Her hands were shaking violently. If she pulled the trigger and missed Victor’s heart, he would instantly execute Cole. If she dropped her weapon, Stefano would torture them both to death on live video for her father to watch.
But then, the terrifying, absolute numbness she had felt in the restaurant kitchen violently returned.
The fear aggressively evaporated. The panic entirely died. Her vision tunneled with hyper-lethal, terrifying clarity.
Haley slowly, agonizingly began to lower her weapon, her dark eyes completely locking onto Victor’s arrogant, smiling face.
“Good girl,” Victor smiled, entirely dropping his guard.
“I actually learned a massive amount of incredibly valuable skills while waiting tables, Victor,” Haley said, her voice dropping into a terrifyingly calm, dead whisper.
Victor frowned, clearly confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I learned exactly how to spot a cheap, pathetic tipper,” Haley stated coldly. “And I learned exactly how to take out the trash.”
She didn’t drop the heavy gun.
In an absolute, blinding blur of practiced motion, Haley aggressively raised the heavy Glock 19 back up and squeezed the trigger.
BANG!
The explosive shot was absolutely, terrifyingly perfect.
She didn’t aim for Victor’s chest. She didn’t aim for his head. She aimed precisely for the heavy silver pistol in his right hand.
The hollow-point bullet violently impacted Victor’s right hand with devastating, explosive force. The silver gun completely shattered, tearing his fingers to bloody shreds.
Victor let out a high-pitched, agonizing scream of pure horror.
He violently dropped his ruined hand and aggressively stumbled backward in sheer, unadulterated shock. He completely lost his footing on the slick, rain-swept concrete at the absolute edge of the floor.
His arms violently windmilled in the empty air. His terrified eyes met Haley’s cold, dead stare for one single, agonizing second.
And then, Victor Vance violently tipped backward.
He fell completely into the pitch-black abyss without a single sound, plummeting fifty stories down to the unforgiving pavement below.
Stefano violently spun around in pure shock, aggressively raising his heavy rifle to shoot Haley.
But Cole was already violently moving.
Completely ignoring the agonizing bullet wound in his shoulder, Cole aggressively launched his massive body over the brick pallet. He violently tackled Stefano Rossi around the waist, violently slamming the mobster hard onto the unforgiving concrete floor.
The heavy rifle violently skittered away, entirely sliding over the edge of the building and into the dark.
Cole aggressively pinned Stefano to the ground, pulling his combat knife, but Haley walked calmly over, her shadow completely falling over the struggling men.
She aimed the heavy Glock directly at Stefano’s right knee.
“This is for the slap,” she said coldly, entirely devoid of mercy.
BANG!
Stefano Rossi violently shrieked in absolute, blinding agony as his kneecap was completely shattered into a hundred pieces.
Haley had a choice to forgive her uncle or execute him. In a world of absolute betrayal, is there any room left for mercy, or is violence the only language they understand?
