Could life get any worst?

That's always been my favorite question. Can it? I mean honestly, everyone thinks that their life sucks but is it any worst than this?

Sighing I continued looking out the window thinking to myself. What if I try to escape? Where would I go? My parents would try to set me up with Rodrego and we would be the underworlds cutest couple! *Note the sarcasm*

Wherever we're going it isn't very close to their headquarters. We've been in the car for twenty minutes already. Back home, on good days, we would walk to our "meetings".

FYI___We would use the word "meeting" for any buisness that needed to be attended to.___FYI

After a few more minutes if silence we finally pulled up to a building that seemed pretty decent on the outside. The red brick on the outside was slightly covered in dirt and was due for a good power wash soon. The few windows that were set up were dim and only a faint light could be seen from the outside. The door was a dark brown and not very welcoming even if a "Welcome" mat was placed there. The porch had chipped wood that looked as if the last time it was painted was decades ago.

As soon as we all exited the car and all the thuds from doors closing was heard as a gust of wind blew past us causing my hair to brush past my cheeks and wildly follow the wind.

Once it passed I quickly pulled my hair in a ponytail using the extra hairband I brought with me. I waited for everyone else to begin walking before I did. Just stay back and allow everyone else to handle everything.

My goodie self was telling me that. However, I had a chance to prove myself. I also had a chance to run, but I wouldn't; I had nowhere to go much less a place to run.

Tom, being in front of everyone stepped onto the first step of the porch earning a loud creak. Everyone else filed behind him as he opened the door and entered the home.

I was hit with a sudden realization that I no longer had my gun with me. "Zachary?" I asked as I poked his arm. He turned to me irritation showing on his face.

"What?" He whispered still walking. 

"Where's my gun?" I asked as I looked around the obviously abandoned home. 

"Oh, you mean this?" He said lifting up one side of his jacket to reveal my gun that I got for my Twenty-First birthday.

Where most girls might go out to drink or have family time on their birthdays, I got weapons.

"Yes, that one!" I whisper yelled trying to reach for it. He immediately blocked my hand and shook his finger back and forth.

"Nope. I don't trust you quite yet." That my friends irritated the hell out of me. I never did anything to not have his trust. Nevermind. If he wants to play like that, then I'll play his game.

We finished walking once we entered a room with two drunk men, with wrinkles adoring their bodies and snowy white hair covering their heads and their top lips. They seemed to be in a serious card game as they smoked on overly large cigars.

"Ahem." Zachary cleared his throat causing the men to pull their gazes away from their game and onto Zachary. They didn't seem to be the slightest bit shaken by his presence, much less by everyone elses.

"Zachy! I see you did come. Well, listen, that money -- I-I'll pay you back in a month or two b-but my wife ya see-" One of the men rambled on about money so I take it he was a loaner.

"Enough Jack," Zachary said sounding colder than ice. His eyes dangerously cold and his face like stone. "You have said the same thing for seven months now. Game over." He said as Tom pulled out hus gun.

"You best turn away," Zachary said as Tom aimed. I was used to these scenarios, mafia higher ups getting ready for the kill.

"But Zachy, m-my wife is sick you know this. Her treatment cost more than what we were told." Tom turned the safety lock off.

"W-wait!" I said causing Tom to look at me. Everyone looked at me shocked as I spoke up. My parents never killed someone who borrowed money to help their family, as long as they saw it as the right thing to do. We're not fully heartless.

"Your wife is sick you say?" I said stepping around Zachary. 

"Yes. With stage four lung cancer. They had a treatment to help her but, it was costly. I lost my job last year so, I had to do what I had to do." He replied with a strong resolve on his face.

The other man looked just as confident as the first when he spoke up. "You... ya won't have ta die Jack. Not if I gotta say in it!"

He stood up and took out a gun that I had seen before in the weapons room at home. The man quickly aimed the gun towards Zachary and my immediate reaction made me turn to grab my gun and shoot.

Through all my years in the mafia, I had never killed a man. I was always in the background or I wasn't brought along period. That was until that day, I shot a man right through the heart.

The loud bang was all I heard before I looked at the bloody man on the ground. I never shot a gun outside of the shooting range. Sam looked at me in shock. So did Nate. Tom and Zachary looked at me with sadness than anything else.

I felt like a monster. I slowly fell to the ground and just sat there looking at my hands. "Bill?" The first man asked. I closed my eyes. At that moment something snapped in me. 

"Go!" I barked at the man who sat in his chair in pure horror.

"B-but miss...I was supposed to, die, today." He said quietly. "GO! To your wife. She needs you more than us right now." I said dangerously cold to the point that I was scared of myself.

He stood up shakily knocking over a chair. He left the room in a mad dash. I swear to God he better be heading to wherever his wife is. I looked back down at my hands I felt as though one life was enough to ruin mine. Just one accident.

"Masoch, Nate, take care of the body, please. Tom, Chris, cover this up." Zachary said as he kneeled down next to me. I didn't even look up. I couldn't even look up. It was just me and my hands.

He picked up my gun that I dropped beside me and looked at it. "You know, as much as I hate to say it, you've got the best aim that I've ever seen."

And with that, I cracked. Tears streamed down my face and I just sat there. The last time I cried in front of someone was when I had a close call in a kidnapping when I was fifteen. That was one of the only times my father ever comforted me, and the last time too.

Zachary grabbed me and hugged me tightly. My face was smashed against his chest as I cried my eyes out. It was probably more than just the life that I took, but all the stress and drama that I've been through in just a couple of days. It's enough to drive you mad.

Rubbing my arm he tried to make me feel better but the thought of me ruining someone's life kept popping up in my head. What if he had a sick family too.

"It's ok. No one knows who he is anyway. He's unmarried, has no kids, no neighbors, nobody." He whispered in my ear. I felt a little better enough to stop my tears but not enough to fix me on the inside. I still felt like a monster.

"Come on." He said standing up. I couldn't. I mentally and emotionally couldn't. Sighing he bent down and picked me up bridal style and walking out the door.

Usually, I would protest. But right now I couldn't. I couldn't speak, move, nothing. All I can do is look at my hands. The hands of a murderer.