It's been almost a month since I've last seen and heard about him. I don't know why, but I'm not used to not seeing him around whenever I've been sent to a job. I know I have nothing to worry about, but this feeling just won't go away.

 "I'm going crazy," I mumble to myself.

 I'm sitting on a bench by the railing of the central park, flipping my knife on my hand as I watch people doing anything. I'm still not in the mood to do my job. Conor gave me a week, anyway. No need to hurry. I haven't forgotten what Conor has done to us a month ago. But still, job comes first. Always.

 I check my watch. "Sixteen-hundred? Still early."

 "Hey, let go of me!" I hear a voice--maybe a teenager--shout.

 I turn to see the teenager--maybe seventeen or eighteen--being held by a guy with a white-blonde hair, I mean really, really, blonde hair. He's holding the teenager's collar with his two hands tightly.

 They are standing by the fence of a tree that's one of the a little bit far from me. By the look of their faces, I can see that something is up.

 "I said," the blonde guy says, "what happened to him?" he tightens the grip on the teenager's collar until his knuckles become white. He brings his face closer to the teenager.

 "I ain't telling you nothing," the teenager says with a menacing tone. "He got what he deserved. Now, he's going to die in boss' hands. That's what he gets for betraying all of us."

 I roll my eyes and stand up to walk towards them. People are already looking at their direction with horrified looks, but the two don't seem to care.

 "Hey, hey," I call to the two, "don't raise some ruckus here. People are already looking at you."

 The blonde guy turns to me with an irritated look. " off, sis," he snaps. "You wouldn't like me angry."

 I scoff. "You wouldn't like me angry, either," I snap back. "How old are you, anyway? Twenty-five? Twenty-four? This guy looks like a teenager and you're doing this to him?"

 He exhales roughly and glowers at me. "Be thankful I respect women," he growls. "But if you really--I mean, really--annoy me again, I won't hesitate to hit you."

 I snicker. Nice mouth he has here. It makes me remind me of him. He used to speak with me this way. And I gotta admit, I kind of missed it.

 "Just let go of him now, blondie," I say, trying to control my voice.

 The blonde guy turns back to the teenager. "If you don't want to tell me where he is," he says slowly, "then, fine. Don't. I can find him on my own." he pushes the teenager away from his grasp. The teenager then scrams.

 "Screw everything," the blonde guy mutters to himself as he watches the teenager disappear out of his sight.

 I walk to him so we're shoulder-to-shoulder, looking at the direction the teenager has run off to. "What's the big deal about him?"

 He jumps a few steps away from me in fright. "What the eff--" he curses and scowls at me. "Why do you need to know? Haven't I told you to off?" he says something inaudible before he stalks off.

 I look at him with a frown. "It seems like he's looking for a family member. Too hostile." I just shake my head and walk the other way.

- - -

 I turn on the lights of my place. The lights flicker a few times before it illuminated completely. You can describe my place as a normal house a person has. Bookshelves hanging on the wall, a flat screen tv is placed on the wall a few feet above the ground with heavy duty speakers standing on both sides, two rooms, etcetera, etcetera. 

 I stick my knife on my counter and go to the kitchen to take a drink. I go back to the counter with a drink in my hand.

 "Screw everything," I say out loud, remembering the blonde guy's line earlier.

 I still don't know why the blonde guy is so eager to find this 'him' he's asking about earlier. But who is he? And who are they both? I remember the teenager's line, "That's what he gets for betraying all of us."

 What, are they like a mafia group or something? Too many traitors in this world. No wonder other people go berserk. The only thing worse than a hater is a traitor.

 "Seriously, screw everything." I bang the cup on the counter. The liquid from it has spilled because of the impact, creating a liquid mess on the counter.

 I slump on the chair behind the counter and bury my head in my arms. It's the first time in my life that I've felt this bored, uneasy, and dizzy. I don't know what I'll do with my day.

 Then, a sudden thought snaps me out of boredom.

 I grab my car keys and head out of my place.

- - -

 "Where the eff is it again?" I mutter to myself out loud as drum my fingers on the steering wheel of my car while driving around the village. "I know it's around here somewhere."

 I'm driving around the village where Adam's place is. I haven't remembered the direction when we went to Conor's warehouse from Adam's place. The streets and intersections are too complicated. ing house doesn't want to be found.

 I round another set of intersections but still failed to find his place.

 Then it hits me, his place is at the end of the village near the edge of a small cliff. I remembered when I've looked out from the balcony on the second level of his place.

 I quickly start my car and drive to the direction that somehow my brain remembers. I arrive at a place near the end of the cliff and by the curve of the road. The road continues to somewhere I don't know. Well, obviously. I've only been here once. Duh. Nah, just kidding.

 I stop my car at the side of the road across the house--but actually, I'd rather not call it a house because of its size. It's hardly called house, it's definitely more than a house.

 I step down from my car and close its door. As I look up to the place, I can't help but remember the day when he's saved me from being caught and killed by the police a month ago. And until now, I can't believe that he actually saved me. I mean, he's a cold-blooded killer who has no mercy and no feelings for people. But guess I'm wrong. I am totally wrong about him.

 I start to walk across the road towards the place's gate. Its gate is at least--I think--seven feet tall with pointed spear-like ends on the top of it. Both sides are pinned to a concrete brick wall that surrounds the whole place. Even when the owner's not here for the whole year, his house sure won't be ransacked. As I observe the insides of the house, I see some cameras on the front lawn and other gadgets for detecting intruders.

 I try the gates, and to my surprise, it's open. I look around first to see if there are anyone nearby, but there's actually none. So I sneak in the lawn and close the gates. I carefully walk my way towards across the lawn to the front door. I don't want the alarms setting off and, who knows, there might be deadly weapons around here that might come out and start shooting the intruder. Who knows how Adam set up his place?

 I finally reach the front door. I raise my hand to knock, but I notice something strange. The door is not properly closed, it's left ajar. I get my gun from my belt and hold it in my other hand while I use my other hand to push the door open slowly. I keep my gun pointed forward as I creep to the living room. The place is as it is a month ago, when I last came here. But the weird thing is, the place is dark and empty. Thick dust covers the furnitures and appliances in the house. It looks like no one's been living here.

 I lower my gun in confuse. "That's weird," I mutter.

 I hear a thud behind me, and I quickly whirl around just as a fist almost collides with my face. It's a good thing I lean back before it can hit me. Then I hear a ting of metal and I see a shadow of a guy holding a knife and points it at me. He slowly moves backward to the wall. I hear a click, and all the lights in the living room flicker to life.

 When my eyes adjust in the light, I see him. But not Adam.

 "Blondie?" I ask, confused.