The Assassin's Blood: The Confradia Assassins 3

Chapter 13: Compounding my mistakes

Declan

I rush out the door feeling like a fool. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I reprimand myself mentally. Why did I kiss her? The kiss was amazing, but now I feel like an ass. One moment I'm kissing her and the next I'm telling her that it's a mistake. I don't blame her for being pissed and kicking me out. She didn't deserve for me to treat her that way.

Distracted by my thoughts, I walk up to my car and find three men leaning on the hood. My body stiffens with anger at the sight of the asshole leaning against my million-dollar car. What these men don't understand is that I'm not in the best of moods, and this is not the best time to cross me. The one that I assume is the leader straightens up as soon as he spots me. Unintimidated, I narrow my eyes and move closer. The leader gives me a threatening glare and swells his chest out in an intimidating fashion. It amuses me to see that they think I'm an everyday Joe who would be easily intimidated by a group of street thugs. They have no idea with whom they are messing with.

Stopping in front of them, I cross my arms in front of my chest and casually take the measure of each man. I gauge them to be in their early twenties, or late teens. Hispanic, of average height with a slew of homemade tattoos all over their bodies. The one on the left is holding a tire iron and the one on the right, a set of brass knuckles on his left hand. The leader is standing in front of them with his arms around his back to hold what I assume is a gun.

The leader nudges his chin towards the car and gives me a cocky smile. "Hey, mister, is this your car?" He utters in a gruff tone. I nod my head calmly and place my hands in my pockets. "Yes, it is." His smile turns vicious. "I like this car. You should give me the keys." Chuckling in response, I shake my head. "Sorry, buddy, the car's mine." The man takes another threatening step, followed by his friends and snickers. "I don't think you heard me, son. I want those keys." We're both almost nose to nose, except for the fact that I'm about five inches taller than him. "No, I don't think you heard me…son. The car is mine."

As if on cue, he pulls out a gun and points it at my face. I don't even flinch as I gaze upon the barrel of the gun with derision. Before he can react, I pull the gun out of his hand and punch him in the throat. The guy goes down hard, holding his bruised throat.

The other men look on, surprised that their leader was so easily unarmed. Then, as if waking up from a dream, the man on the left lifts the tire iron and aims it towards my head. I duck down, punching him in the stomach and chop him across the back of the neck. He instantly falls to the ground, unconscious. The other man moves to punch me, but I move my head to the side, knee him in the stomach and slam him against the car door. The leader recovers instantly, stands up, and kicks me in the back. Grunting in anger, I turn around, grab the back of his head and elbow him in the nose. As another man is going to jump on my back, I easily squat down and throw his body over my head.

He falls on his back with a cry and instantly goes lifeless. I keep my stance for a moment observing the fallen figures around me. What a disappointment these men turned out to be. They didn't even pose a challenge. I guess it's unfair to think that considering that I'm a trained professional. Wiping my palms down my thighs, I straighten up my rumpled clothing and turn to my car. Standing in front of me is a shocked Connor. His eyes are glued to the unconscious men, horror clearly written on his familiar face. After a moment, he looks up and says. "Holy shit. You just fucked up Eddie Morano and his boys. Holy fuck!" He moves around the bodies in wonder then stands before me. His eyes are wide as he moves closer and whispers. "Who the hell are you?" I shake my head, straighten out my shirt, and ignore his question. There's no way I can explain to him how I did this without giving away what I really am. "I thought you were at school?"

He snorts in disbelief at my change of subject. "Seriously? You just knocked some crazy fuckers out without breaking a sweat, and you're asking me about school?" I nod my head with an indifferent shrug. "I'll call someone to pick these assholes up. Now, why aren't you at school?"

Connor shakes his head and runs his fingers through his dark hair incredulously. "You're not going to tell me how you were able to kick their asses, are you?" He asks, but I remain silent. There's nothing that I can tell him that will sound rational. Connor quirks his brow as he waits for my reply but realizes that none is forthcoming and releases a deep sigh. "Fine, don't tell me! I guess it doesn't matter anyway!" He says, flinging his hand from his hair in frustration. "Sorry, man, but this is something I can't discuss with you. Now I'm not going to ask again. Why aren't you at school?"

"My morning classes were canceled. A few teachers got food poisoning or something. So I came back to help San clean up and walk with her to the diner. This neighborhood is pretty rough, and I worry about her walking out there alone. Happy?" I nod my head humbled by his love for his sister. I guess being together for so long has made them protective of each other. Life must have been a lot harder for them than I thought. I mean, he didn't even flinch at the sight of the men lying lifeless on the ground. He just wanted to know how I did it. He also seems to worry about Santana a great deal. To the point that he feels he needs to walk her to work so that he can make sure she gets there safely. Somehow that knowledge saddens me.

Angry, I punch the steering wheel several times as I gaze at my brother's fading form from the rearview mirror. "Goddamn it!" I hit the wheel again with force. I should have never come back. But how am I supposed to remain detached when it's my brother. I realize now that by showing up, I've only made things worse for them. Staring at the windshield, I take a deep breath and try to think about something else. I just need to focus on my job and forget the two people who have turned my world upside down. However, for the rest of the day, I'm haunted by the image or her kiss and the broken look in my brother's eyes. Maybe I am more like my father than I thought.