°°° The Beginning °°° Kneeling in a pool of blood, Marco shivered like a child who’d been in the rain for an hour. The man had deep cuts on his arms and chest. The bleeding had ceased, but the air made it sting. His kitchen’s tiled floor was mostly covered in blood. The entire place was a mess. Bullet shells scattered all over the place. The human hand sizzling on the electric grill made him sick to his stomach. He’d have thrown up a long time ago, but he wasn’t going to risk pissing him off. The only other breathing person in the house was the man who had caused the damage. He had single-handedly killed seven men without a single firearm, all of whom were well armed with multiple weapons, and not even a bullet wound was on him; he was not even grazed. He took off his black leather jacket and dropped it on the kitchen island. Walking to the sink, the man washed the blood off his face, kicking the severed arm off the grill. He dried his hands and opened the fridge. "Can I?" the

°°° The Con Artist °°° The cool evening breeze blew over their exposed faces. Sitting on the porch, Sean and his mother, Kate, were silent, watching kids play football across the street. Sean was happy that she was happy. He hadn’t realized when, but the argument with her boyfriend, Boris Romanoff, had ended, and he had left. She wasn’t as grumpy and frustrated as she usually was after arguments with Boris. Whatever it was, it probably ended the way she wanted it to. And the kids playing across the street helped to make her more susceptible to suggestions. "You know," his mother, Kate, tilted towards him but kept her eyes on the kids kicking the ball around. "When you were about their age, you really sucked at football," she mocked with a laugh. "Yeah," he chuckled softly, running his fingers through his black hair. "I never really was one for such sports," he defended, his joy growing as he hadn’t even been the one to initiate the conversation, and it was going in the d

°°° Blackmailed to Blackmail °°° The rest of the drive to the Whites was uneventful. They’d given Sean quite a tour of downtown Louisville. The Louisville Slugger Museum & Factory was one that Mr. White and Andrew were most excited about. Mr. White promised to visit with them before Sean leaves, but Sean and Jason weren’t that excited. When they passed by the Muhammad Ali Center, they both could hardly contain themselves. They immediately made the decision to visit, no matter the cost. Arriving at the Whites, Sean immediately went up to Jason’s room. It was a shared attic bedroom. Initially, Jason and Andrew shared a room until Andrew decided he was ready to have a room to himself. Jason loved the idea of an attic bedroom and decided to move out, insisting on the shared attic bedroom design he’d seen online. He was relentless with asking and finally got his wish after convincing Andrew to help him out by asking their parents to sleep in his room every now and then. Seeing

°°° Interrogation °°° "Hey Mom," Sean slumped into a sofa in the living room, earphones plugged into his phone. "Sean… "How are you doing?" His mom’s voice came through the speakers. "I’m great. How are you? How’s work?" He smiled, staring at the ceiling. "Hey, I called you..." "I'll be the one asking the questions here," Kate replied, sounding stern, before bursting into a round of laughter, making Sean laugh at her inability to pretend. "How’s the hood?" Sean shuffled into the leather sofa. "Hope no burglar came knocking?" "Well, one did last night. "He said he needed your help to break a friend out of holding," she replied, successfully pulling off a serious tone. "I told him you’d get back to him when you returned from your current jailbreak in Kentucky." "Damn ma… "You've been practicing!" Sean laughed. "Your lying skills are getting really good." "What can I say… "I learned from the best," she chuckled. "And who’s that?" Sean asked with pride in his voice. "Who e

°°° Self Sabotage °°° The rest of the day went by quickly. By 6:45 pm, Ann and Dan were both home and were seated at the dining table alongside Jason, Andrew, and Sean. Ann had prepared her mom’s signature black rice with chicken and salad. "So…" Ann started a conversation as the dinner was oddly quiet. "How was school today, boys?" She looked at both Jason and Andrew. Andrew lifted his head up and stared at his brother to know if he should speak and what to say. Seeing that Jason wasn’t going to reply, he spoke up. "School was... well, school was school." "Today was actually tasking." "Huh." "Well, I’m all ears," Ann smiled. "It wasn’t teaching in the academic sense." It’s more of a social thing. "You probably wouldn’t understand," Andrew tried to select his words carefully. "Try me," Ann challenged with a smile. She knew Andrew was trying to keep something from her; she didn’t know why, but she knew that challenging him would get him spewing details. A smug smile slo