From Niiveux stemmed a whole slew of other car brands, thus making the Niiveux brothers infamous billionaires. Little did I know Rafail lived a double life. Heck, they probably all did.
“Strange nickname,” Chad commented through a chuckle. “I would’ve gone with something more villainous.”
“Like ‘Veiled Demon’?”
“Something like that.” He sobered up. “My father has been spying on you long before now.”
“What?”
“He might not have trusted you—how long ago have you been assigned to kill me?”
I winced. “About seven months now?”
Chad nodded. “That explains it. Unless you’re trying to assassinate someone from the White House, no assignment should take this long.”
Appetite gone, I set my half-eaten pizza down. “So you’re saying he thought I was giving him the run-around?”
“If he sent men here to spy on you”—shrug—”yeah.”
“What a cowardly stinking piece of shit!” I erupted, tripping over my tongue in a tangle of words that didn’t make sense. “H-how many men has he given this same assignment? Twelve. And how many have you stopped in their tracks?Twelve! Did he seriously expect me to run in like a brave fool and make myself a number fucking thirteen?!”
“Calm down, Jhay,” Chad said in a steady, even voice.
“No!” I said, sweeping a set of utensils off the table. “I want to kill him! I want to kill that cock-sucking asshole my fucking self! First he fucks up my life, then he makes me a target because I failed a mission that a dozen mendiedtrying to fulfill? Rafail Niiveux can go fuck himself!!”
“Jhay, calm down.”
“Fuck off!” I shouted at him. “Fuck right off!”
Unimpressed with my choler, Chad slammed a tight fist down on the table, swift and firm, and contents on the table danced as if a mini-quake had just licked the earth. “Calm.The fuck. Down.”
I shut up, but glared at him across the table, pretending he didn’t intimidate me.
Propping his elbows on the table, he locked his eyes to mine. They weren’t cold or threatening, however, but carried a gentle understanding. “Jhay, you’re freaking out because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I denied.
“Yes, you are,” he said, sticking me where it hurts. “But I don’t want you to be afraid. I want you to trust that I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”
“Protectme?” I shrieked in disbelief. “How are you going to protect me from two different sets of people whenyouare still a target?”
“Jhay—”
“What are we gonna do, stay locked up in this bulwark? Yeah, until someone decides to launch a big ass bomb through your ‘bulletproofed’ windows!”
“Look, you seriously need to calm down.”
“I can’t.” And that’s when the tears began to flow. Because Chad was right, I was afraid. Life suddenly meant something to me and I wanted to live. “I’m not ready to die.”
Pushing back his chair, Chad got up and came to my end of the table, crouching down in front of me. “It’s okay to fear death. But Jhay, freaking out is not gonna help.”
“I used to wish for death,” I told him through a messy muffle of sniffles. “I hated my life and I just wanted to die already. But now I realize why I didn’t pull the trigger whenever I put the gun under my chin. It’s because I didn’t really want to die. I just wanted a way out.”
Taking my trembling hands in his, he whispered, “No matter how much we pretend, none of us really wants to die. Not even those who commit suicide. Some commit suicide because they’re tired of screaming out into the void and not being heard, so they do it for people to notice their pain. But I’m sure in death, they’re wishing they’d stayed and fought it out. Because theydidget people to notice them, to hear them, but what’s it worth now that they’re dead? How can they be helped?” He squeezed my hands, warming them. “I’m glad you didn’t pull the trigger, Jhay. I’m glad you stayed and fought it out. Because I’m here now. I hear your screams. I notice your pain. And I’m here to help.”
“You’re gonna die trying to protect meandyourself,” I said hoarsely. “I don’t want you to die.”
“Funny,” Chad chortled in spite of the situation, “considering two nights ago you were aiming to blow my head off.”