"Ugh I wanted to sleep more." Warren stomped his feet like a baby who was snatched off his sleep to go to school in the morning. His situation was quite similar, except the school part.
"Just sleep when we get back. Stop hurting my damn car." Tiger snapped, his face focused ahead, one hand resting on his thigh while he used another to drive.
Warren gave him a side eye, resting his head on the window, feeling the fresh morning air caress his face, ruffling his long hair.
"I'm still not sure about leaving her with that bastard. He can't be trusted." He said after a pause.
"I have warned him. That should be enough for him to stay away from her." Tiger answered, unconvinced of his own words.
"Still, what we have find out about him is crazy as it is. I want to slit his throat so bad." Warren gritted out, his face a visible reflection of the rage and hatred he had towards the said guy.
Tiger kept his gaze ahead, focused and unfazed, his mind drifting to Hayat and how she pleaded him to not leave her with the son of a bitch. He wondered if he made the right decision.
A knock disrupted the swift, precise movements of his fingers on the keypad, pulling his attention to the closed main door. His eyes considered the closed door for a moment, his senses on high alert—no one ever came unannounced this early in the morning.
It had been nearly a half a month since the attack, a night that still lingered in the corners of his mind like a shadow. The man had been moved to DK's place for further investigation when he visited, so it couldn't be DK's men at the door. Then who?
Tiger shut off the device in front of him, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun. With deliberate, cautious steps, he made his way to the door, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready for anything.
He swung the door open, expecting a threat—someone clad in black, face obscured, ready for confrontation. Instead, he was met with the infuriatingly familiar sight of Nike, standing casually with his hands buried in his jeans' pockets, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
"Good morning, Tiger." Nike greeted, his voice dripping with false cheer. The smile widened, and Tiger's fingers twitched, itching to raise the gun and wipe that smirk off his face permanently.
"Mind explaining what brought your disgusting existence here?" Tiger's voice was ice-cold, his raven hair falling slightly over his forehead as he tilted his head, the strands framing his sharp features. Each word was laced with barely-contained hostility.
Nike chuckled, clearly unfazed by the insult. "DK wants to see you. And Warren too." His crafty smile never faltered, but Tiger wasn't fooled. He had spent too many years in this game to be deceived by the fake innocence on Nike's face.
Those blue eyes sparkled with something dark, intentions buried deep beneath the surface, masked by that bright, insincere grin.
"And I'm just supposed to take your word for it?" Tiger arched an eyebrow, his tone laced with skepticism.
"Call DK yourself if you don't believe me," Nike shrugged, the casual gesture only adding to Tiger's irritation.
"Fine." Tiger turned away, keeping Nike in his peripheral vision as he reached for his phone. Nick took a step forward, but Tiger's sharp command stopped him in his tracks. "Stand there. I didn't invite you in."
Nike halted, his smirk faltering for a split second before he complied, knowing better than to test Tiger's patience.
Tiger brought the phone to his ear, and the line connected with a familiar rasp—the voice of a man who had lived through enough wars to have earned every wrinkle, though his face showed none. DK's voice was as calculating as ever.
"Why have you sent this fucker here?" Tiger's tone was flat, devoid of the respect others might show DK. But that's how it had always been between them.
Nike's jaw tightened at the insult, his fists clenching in his pockets, but he kept silent. He knew that Tiger's threats were not to be taken lightly.
The conversation with DK was short and to the point. Tiger's expression remained unreadable as he listened, but there was a flicker of frustration in his eyes as he ended the call.
Nike's smirk returned, wider and more triumphant than before, as Tiger turned to face him again. For the second time in three minutes, Tiger had to resist the urge to pull the trigger and wipe that smug expression off his face.
"Now can I come in?" Nike's voice dripped with mockery as he stepped inside, his smirk growing with each step as if he owned the place.
"So, dear Tiger, when are you planning to leave?" he pressed, the question laced with false concern.
"After making you leave this world," Tiger's eyes narrowed, his voice a deadly whisper.
Nike laughed, the sound grating on Tiger's nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but the moment was interrupted by Warren's appearance. His hair was ruffled from sleep, his eyes puffy, but they immediately narrowed when they landed on Nike.
"What the fuck is this asshole doing here?" Warren's voice was thick with hatred, his disgust for the said guy evident in every syllable.
"Tiger will explain. Right, Ti? Is that what you call him?" Nick mocked, his laughter growing as if he was the audience at a circus.
"You call him with that name again, and I won't hesitate to split your neck from your body," Warren warned, his tone deadly serious as he approached, hands shoved deep into his pockets, fists clenched.
Nike's smile remained unfaltering, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps a mild fear, or maybe just awareness of the danger he was in. "Possessive much? Well, whatever. Get going already."
Warren's gaze shifted to Tiger, silently demanding an explanation.
Tiger said nothing for a moment, his eyes locked onto Nike, scrutinizing him, searching for the real reason behind DK's decision to send this snake instead of someone else. Why him? Why not Nile? Why not Clair? Why this dog?
Finally, Tiger folded his arms across his chest and took a step closer to Nike, his presence imposing. "Alright," he said, his voice calm but carrying a deadly edge. "But let me just warn you before I go."
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, threatening growl. "If you even dare to touch her, I'll chop off that thing between your legs."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and for the first time, Nike's smirk faltered completely, the gravity of the threat sinking in. Tiger wasn't bluffing—he never did.
He sighed, adjusting himself on his seat as the road ahead took them to the hell of a place, which neither of them liked even a bit.
The bungalow raised high in the sky as the gates opened wide, the car entering inside with a whoosh.
-----
"AHH!"
"Last time, Terry. Just tell us what we are asking you and your throat might rest from all that screaming." Derek fisted Terry's hair painfully and shoved his bloodied face back, causing Terry to meet his gaze forcibly.
"Never. Never am I going to trade my loyalty just to save my life." Terry panted, his jaw tightened and eyes heavy.
"Oh God. I am so sick of you. Dammit!." Derek released Terry's hair, running his hand through his own grey ones and pinching the bridge of his nose, getting frustrated.
It was more than a month they were trying to get Terry spill all the secrets of ScarFace, but being a loyal and grateful man to the mentioned mobgang, Terry didn't gave into their torture at all.
He no longer had fingers except the thumb of his right hand, no longer had toes, his one ear was shot and bleeding, his thighs were stabbed more than a safe number of times, his face damaged by vigorous punches, he was covered in blood all over.
The door opened with a creepy creak, two men walked into the dull room, their presence daunting, making the other men to turn their faces to look behind at them. The bulb hanging from above of Terry's head being the sole source of light as they both strolled deeper in the room, standing in the alliance with the other men.
"Glad you're here. Deal with this piece of shit." Derek exhaled in frustration, he turned on his feet, giving Tiger a nod before leaving the room.
Silence fell like a heavy cloak, dawning dauntingly upon the bloodied man as he stared at the guy who knocked him down that day effortlessly.
He had an anger that he couldn't lash out now, not when he didn't even had fingers left to form a fist to land a punch.
"Why taking so much pain? Just spill the details and you'll be free for life." Tiger ran a hand through his hair before roaming his hand around his nape, his other hand holding a lighter, playing with it with his big, veiny fingers.
"Keep on trying, Tiger. I never traded my loyalty for anything—not even for the sake of my life, and never will." Terry answered, the pain in his body reflecting as he spoke in between mere whispers and heavy pants, his voice groggy and weak from all the screaming and shouting.
"Um hm, loyalty, you say?" Tiger started, lifting his gaze to Terry's hooded eyes, trails of red thick liquid flowing from his forehead dip by dip. His skin had turned pale due to blood loss.
Tiger took a step towards Terry's chair, raising his one leg and keeping his foot on the small space near his stabbed thigh as he rested his one hand over his bent knee.
Lowering himself on the tied man as he leaned in to look into Terry's face closely; dangerously. Terry gulped.
"Loyalty for what, Terry? For the people who will throw you off the cliff once you're grounded?" Tiger whispered, his words stirring a bitter surf in his insides, riling him up.
"They won't do as much as think of betraying me. You're getting way too far in your predictions." Terry muttered through gritted teeth, his efforts to sound clear and unafraid evident, yet his weak voice between painful gasps gave away his trials.
"And you're getting way too ahead of your expectations. ScarFace; a big name in our world, isn't it?" Tiger tilted his face, a small deceptive smirk playing on his lips deviously, "A month should be more than enough for them. Yet, they haven't tried to find you at all. If they did, there would've been men killed in cold blood in front of you. Or they might have been tied here like you too. But do we see any?"
Terry's eyes darkened, a muscle in his jaw twitched, strong creaks appearing on his forehead, his bloodied face turning red as he attempted to tug at his chair to break free from the tight knots, the chair shaking due to the force slightly. He couldn't, and that made Tiger smirk even wider.
"You're offering me a less painful death in expense of betraying my people. And that is something no man from ScarFace will ever agree to. Kill me already, that's what you're going to do in the end anyway." Terry answered with the same determination, though now his face had a little hint of contemplation.
"Your people? The people who don't even think of you as theirs anymore?" Tiger asked, his tone dry and utterly manipulative.
"Loyalty is just the same price as a dollar. When the cost of keeping it outweighs the gain, it disappears like a dead body after its funeral." Tiger said, his eyes deep and cold.
"Would you betray your people?" Terry asked lowly, his eyes shifting at a distance behind Tiger's shoulder.
Tiger turned his face sideways, he knew Terry was hinting at Warren—as he came with him. And he knew Warren was standing there, watching him, hearing him, waiting for him to answer.
And he did.
"If it benefits me, then I will." Tiger answered in a whisper, his reply short but cold. Everyone in the room knew—except Terry, it was just a game to trick the tortured man, to show him that it's okay to l backstab your acquittances even though you've been loyal to them all your life, and turn against them if it uplifts you in anyway, let it just be a trade for a painless death or freedom of life or a load of money.
Warren still felt a punch to his gut. Tiger's words piercing his heart like his own blade does to his skin. He looked away, running his tongue over his lower lip as he exhaled a moment after, trying to keep his emotions in check.
It was just to get Terry give in, right?
It was just a trick, right?
Tiger didn't mean it, did he? Of course he didn't.
He won't betray him. Yeah.
"But I won't." Terry stated, swallowing.
"So you won't tell us anything?" Tiger's voice, that voice of destructive flames, sin and pure evil, lowered impossibly, venomously. Tiger leaned in just an inch more, his whiskey brown orbs holding a clear threat, the dull bulb laminating one side of his slightly tilted face—a face that remained devoid of any humanic expression; blank and straight, making him look more intimidating and devilish.
"N-No." Terry stuttered, shuddering under Tiger's flamy, intense eyes.
"Alright. Your son studies at GreenWood High, doesn't he?" Tiger asked, Terry's eyes widened, muscles tensing as he felt the floor slip under his feet.
“You wouldn't want him to know what his dad does for a living, right? Or should we bring him here?” Tiger raised his one eyebrow, Terry clenched his jaw, eyes ablaze and angry, but his lips remained seethed in a tight line.
"Wow." Claire chuckled, whispering underling his breath as Warren looked at him.
"What?" Warren asked, raising his eye brows.
"I mean, just look at him man. He's so cool." Claire shook his head, admiration coating his words like a chocolate layer on a candy.
"And here I thought you were straight." Warren rolled his eyes in fake annoyance and disgust.
Claire laughed silently, giving Warren a buddy-like shove as the latter smiled too.
"Think about it, Terry. You might not have traded your loyalty with anything. But then, nobody ever knew you had a weakness in the form of a small soul who's oblivious to your secrets." Tiger said to Terry, placing his foot back to the floor as he turned towards the door and left. His footsteps echoed like a daunting spell even when his sight could no longer be seen. His absence was just as deadly as his presence.
Terry's eyes were focused on the door from which Tiger had disappeared. And at that moment, everyone in the room knew. The work was done.
Time passed quickly as sun rose on top of the big bungalow, shining it's rays ever so brightly, highlighting it's detailed architecture and deadly beauty.
Warren watched the heights of the pillars of the broad collection of bricks that sat in the middle of a wide field with trees scattered around, seeming more like a mansion yet not one.
He leaned back on the hood of the car, resting his hips on the cold surface with his hands folded on his chest as he waited for Tiger's arrival who was—much to his distaste—having an exchange of words with DK and a few other men.
The afternoon came by quickly, he spent some time with Claire and other assassins, and some who shared the same skills as him.
His mind drifted to what Tiger said earlier about betraying him, and an another tug screeched his heart. Being so much in touch with his emotions, he was always at dismay. He couldn't ignore things like others, and he could always—physically, painfully—feel the hurt in his chest.
He wasn't a big person that could possibly fear a betrayal, he didn't even have anything on him left. Yet, when Tiger said that so mindlessly, he couldn't ignore it, couldn't shove it away at the back of his head. It made him question all that he had with the latter.
He didn't know if Tiger felt the same what he felt for him, if he even had a bit of concern for him, if he even had an atom like care for him, if he even considered himself as a friend of him, if he even felt just a little form of love for him, if he even felt anything at all for him.
The answer was as clear as the sky above. No. Tiger just doesn't feel, doesn't have the capability to feel, why would he be feeling all such emotions then? But that doesn't mean that he is a backstabber, does it?
The answer remained unanswered, and Warren didn't know what to believe.
Tiger appeared from the wide main door, striding towards him. Warren straightened his spine, unfolding his hands as Tiger's steps halted right in front of him.
Bright rays of sun adoring their faces in yellowish-golden hue of hot afternoon, the heat between them obscure.
Warren stood there wordlessly, starring at Tiger while trying not too seem gloomy. The questions were whirling in his mind like a wheel of a cart, his emotions on edge. He knew he owned nothing so much worth as betraying, but he already felt betrayed somehow.
Tiger squinted his brows, a small tilt of face following a second after.
"What?" Tiger asked.
"Would you betray me?" The words left Warren's mouth before he could stop them. Internally regretting, he tried not to show it on his face.
A strong breeze flew across the wide landscape, ruffling Warren's silky locks before it went to embrace Tiger's torso, his jacket flapping against his sides.
"That was just to lure Terry in to give in." Tiger explained, his voice deep and words clear.
"I know. I'm just asking. Will you betray me?" Warren asked again, this time putting more efforts into not sounding so vulnerable. His tone flat and concise, demanding truthful answers.
A beat of silence passed between them as none of them said anything.
Tiger stood there, silently.
Warren waited, patiently.
Tiger shifted his gaze to the ground for a split second, before he looked up at Warren again, meeting his eyes intensely.
Stepping closer to him, Tiger searched his face as Warren straightened himself once again, struggling on his dear life to not curl up under those hawk-like foxy eyes which seemed more intimidating in the broad day light.
"I might not like you much, Warren. But I always keep my words. The last thing you should doubt about me is my loyalty, the least thing you should be worried about is a betrayal from me—it won't ever find you." Tiger answered, in that voice of evil, calm and collected.
Warren's black coal eyes considered Tiger's brown ones before he sighed lowly.
"Right." He muttered, nodding slightly as if taking time to sink the words in to his being.
"Hey, Warren!" Claire shouted from behind, running towards them, bringing both of their attention to him.
"You forgot your watch." Claire extended a watch towards Warren when he finally approached them, as the latter took it with a grateful nod.
"Thanks, bro."
"It's nothing. I might have stolen it but then I realised, this one seems quite expensive." Claire joked, letting out a small chuckle.
"It's a gift." Warren smiled.
"Gift? From whom?" Claire wiggled his brows teasingly.
"Just....someone." Warren replied, his mind drifting to the woman who's not out of his head yet.
Oh, how much he wants to have her in his arms again.
Not a great time to think about that, right?
"Well, how's that girl doing? Agreed yet?" Claire intrigued curiously.
"Nope. She's quite tough, I must say. She gets on Tiger's nerves a lot." Said Warren, whispering the last part with a silent chuckle.
Claire laughed toothily, tilting his head back as Warren joined him too. Tiger just starred at them both unbothered.
"Nike gets on his nerves too. I hope he didn't get killed before you guys came here." Claire raised his brows, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
"Unfortunately, he didn't." Warren shook his head in fake disappointment which wasn't fake theoretically. He did wanted the said guy to be dead.
"Good to hear. Actually, at first, DK asked Kyle to go to the farmhouse. But then Nike chirped in out of nowhere and said that he'll go because he has handled her before so he'll be able to do this job better." Claire grumbled, sounding like a rapper on stage.
"What?" Warren blinked at him, disbelief coating his coal eyes and handsome face, his stomach sunk down. Tiger's eyes squinted, realisation dawning upon them both.
"Yeah. And DK agreed so he came instead of Kyle." Claire concluded, oblivious of what dilemma he had put both the other males into.
"We need to go." Tiger didn't waited a minute before hopping on the driver seat.
"See you, Claire." Warren ran to the other side of the car, not forgetting to bid his goodbye.
Within the next few seconds, the beast of a car revved passed like a thunderbolt, disappearing behind the shadows of wide big trees.
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