DEATH, A LETHAL BLOW

LUCIEN 'S POINT OF VIEW. I killed the engine on my Harley and pulled out my phone. With a deep sigh, I hit call on an old friend. “Hello.” His voice droned in after the first ring. He was always so punctual; it’s why I still had him around. “Who is this?” The fucker was also wanted in at least five different top nations, and couldn’t risk being caught, so he had his digital footprint scrubbed every two minutes to hide any trace of his whereabouts. He probably knew I was the one on the phone, because who the fuck else would have his contact? “It’s me,” I said, staring at the video of Sloane and me on Killian’s phone. “Ah, Lucien! What can I do for you?” He exclaimed, recognition hitting his voice. I didn’t return the enthusiasm; my rage was all I could feed on as the memory of the bruise on Sloane’s jaw, as well as the way she struggled to breathe like she was in pain, flashed in my memory. She tried to hide it; I could see the hesitation in her eyes, but she didn’t do a good job. I wou