THE WIND WAS knocked out of Devora's lungs when she caught sight of the limp figure that laid on the ground. With crimson red blood seeping through the blades of grass and dirt, Devora could feel the contents of her stomach begin to rise up and out her mouth. She hadn't even eaten much in the last few days but the acid and water mixture was still threatening to surface as the little girl's dead eyes bore through her.

From a distance away, she could faintly make out the wailing cries of Leah tearing through the clearing of trees like a banshee in the night. From beside her, Travis stood with his eyes blank, jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth were at risk of shattering from pure force.

"You monster!" Leah screeched, struggling against her captor's hold. She kicked at the dirt, desperately trying to gain the upper hand and break free but her attempts were futile. "She was six! Only six-years-old! You would even kill a child?!"

Travis, on the other hand, looked calm and collected. His face was emotionless as he stared straight at his sister's killer, those once bright green eyes darkening into an emerald that had seen a storm. On the surface, he seemed unbothered but if the tight clench of his fists meant anything, it surely showed that he was only trying to keep himself from lashing out into a disadvantageous fight right there and then. There was no way Travis could win in a fight against those brutes. It would've been a road straight to death's doors.

Behind her, Devora heard the rustling of leaves and the swaying of grass. Nathan had caught up, coming to a stop right by her side. She felt his hand hold onto her elbow, his touch featherlight and barely there. However, there was still slight warmth in those fingers of his. He gently tugged at her arm, trying to get her to look away from Tammy's dead body.

"Come on," he murmured, mirthless unlike before. "Time to head back to civilization."

Devora hardly even had enough time to panic before she realized that Nathan had begun to lead them towards the group of fierce-looking men. As they neared, she could feel her heart in her throat, clogging up her airways and making it immensely hard for her to breathe. She was practically gasping for air by the time they stopped near the helicopter, her hands finding Nathan's and squeezing them so tightly his wrist turned white.

"Boys, stop scaring the poor kids please."

Slowly, her hands were pried off his arm. Their positions were now swapped with Nathan's hands tightly gripping onto Devora's upper arm, holding her in place and almost cutting off all blood flow in that limb. Hesitantly, she turned, eyes wide with horror at how casually Nathan had addressed the group of men. She had suspected it but a part of her prayed that what she thought wasn't true. Unfortunately, her worst fears were confirmed.

He was one of them.

"Nathaniel. About time you damn showed up. You took too long, punk."

The man who had killed Tammy let out a grunt, followed by a sinister grin as he lowered his gun. When his dark, menacing gaze dropped down to Devora, scanning her from head to toe torturously slow, he scoffed. The small action made Devora instinctively move closer towards Nathan. Or at least, as much as his grip on her allowed her to.

The man sneered, looking back at Nathan as he spoke.

"I see you got the girl," he said.

"Julie did say that he wanted her the most," Nathan calmly replied.

Devora fell forward on all fours when Nathan shoved her. Caught off guard by his harsh actions, she slammed to the ground, sending specks of dirt flying into the air. The sudden movement had tugged at her injury, causing her wounded leg to flare up in pain all over again. She didn't even need to turn and look behind to know that Nathan was wearing a smirk at the moment.

The person that had just spoken was the very same person that had saved her life. Why did it seem like they were two very different personalities? Which one was the real Nathan?

"Julius Cain is not a kind man, Nathaniel. He won't excuse your tardiness even if you're his little favorite dog." The heavily tattooed man pulled at his suit jacket, wiping away the blood from the soles of his leather boots on the grass before turning towards the helicopter. "Let's move, people!" He instructed. Then, he gestured to Leah and Travis and said, "And get those two on their feet."

Obediently, the two other men followed his instructions, carelessly pulling the other two captives along with them. While Leah struggled against the man's grip, Travis simply gave a sharp yank, followed by an elbow jab to the stomach to the man that was holding him. He had been so calm and quiet beforehand that the man in charge of him hadn't suspected he would act out and was thus caught off guard. As the man crouched, hands moving to his stomach in pain, he let go of Travis's arms. The teenager took the opportunity to slide over the grass and picked up a stray gun that had been tossed aside, carelessly aiming before shooting. Miraculously, the bullet actually met its target, piercing straight through the man's right shoulder.

However, that was all Travis could do. A set of arms rushed over to hold him back, kicking the gun out of his hands before pressing him on the floor.

"Let go of me!" He growled, shaking his shoulders back and forth in an attempt to shrug the man off but the person holding him down was much stronger and buffer than he was.

"God damn it, cuff him!" Tammy's killer shouted, eyes ablaze with rage as he stalked over, picking up the gun from the ground.

Devora watched from where she sat as Nathan pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs, making his way over before locking Travis's hands together. There was tension in the air when the man walked forward, squatting down before using the gun to pat the teen's cheeks mockingly.

"Who knew that this boy had such a pair of balls. And to think I thought you were a spineless coward," he jeered.

"Gray," Nathan's voice held a hint of warning, eyebrows furrowing as he glared at the older man. "He's just a boy."

The man — Gray, as Nathan had called him — laughed heartily before spitting on the ground right by Travis's face.

"A boy?" He echoed, scoffing. "You're just a boy and look where you are now. Top assassin and Julius Cain's favorite little agent. You're a killer and a top-notch one at that. He'll only turn out like you later on down the road. At that time, he won't just be a boy anymore, now, will he?"

Nathan immediately shut up, his lips pursed and teeth clenched. He couldn't find any words to retort Gray's claims.

Seeing how Nathan found no words to return, Gray seemed satisfied as ever. He stood back up before landing a sharp kick down onto Travis's back, sending him rolling over while wheezing in pain. Stepping away from the writhing boy, Gray made his way back to the helicopter, beckoning the others over.

"Now come on, enough chit chat. The boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."

From the corner of Devora's eyes, she noticed a few other men in similar outfits appearing from seemingly nowhere. One of them yanked their injured comrade back onto the helicopter while another made his way over to where Travis laid. Pulling him by the scruff of his shirt, he dragged the teenager behind him, not caring even the least about how much pain he was in with the dry dirt scraping against his bare skin.

Devora was the only lucky one that wasn't manhandled the entire way. Nathan had personally brought her over, carrying her in his arms. He had slipped his arms under her knees and behind her back, easily lifting her up from the ground in a bridal style. When they stepped into the helicopter, he placed her on a seat before letting go, slipping away right as Gray turned around to glance at them.

Devora realized that the entire time Nathan had been carrying her, Gray had his back turned to them, missing their interaction. In front of Gray, Nathan didn't hesitate to shove and push. However, behind his back, he treated her with tender care. What exactly was going on in Nathan's head? What was he so afraid of showing?

The pounding in Devora's head could only be the product of utter confusion and the shock she had been through. She held a hand to her forehead as the doors closed, willing the headache away. Travis and Leah were both locked in handcuffs on the seat opposite hers while the scary men sat in front, divided by a black wall so that the three captives couldn't see them other than through a small window which the people in front control. Nathan was left in charge of keeping an eye on the three, lounging in a rather relaxed manner right next to the small divider that separated the captors and the captives.

The aircraft soon took off from the ground with a whirl of the engine.

Devora couldn't describe the feeling that was concocting within her chest exactly. However, if she had to, the closest feeling would be a sense of foreboding. It boiled inside her in a flurry of different negative emotions. Playing with her fingers, her eyes stayed glued to her lap, never darting from her lap in fear of meeting the gaze of the other two people that were held captive with her.

For some reason, she felt guilty.

Out of the three of them, Devora was the only one without cuffs on her wrist. Nathan had never put one on her, completely leaving her without any precaution. Of course, it was not as though she could escape capture while she was miles high in the air but that detail could be omitted. In a sense, she was the only willing passenger out of the three of them. That was because she hadn't struggled when Nathan carried her on board the aircraft. There were no protests from her end, no displays of anger, no words of fury. She showed nothing but calm obedience.

Maybe that was the source of the guilt she felt.

They had left Tammy's dead body back in the woods. The trees were nothing but small specks by now, far behind them as the helicopter soared through the air swiftly. The cabin was quiet, a disgusting silence that prickled at Devora's skin, making her flinch in her seat every once in a while.

"Well." Leah cleared her throat, the sound forcing Devora to finally look up at her. "Look where we are again. Together in a cell awaiting death. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

Devora kept her silence, not wanting to argue with the younger girl. She knew she could do nothing to protect herself against Leah and Travis's wrath. On top of the fact that she was the only one without her hands bound, there was no doubt that Leah and Travis had witnessed how Nathan had carefully carried her onto the aircraft, unlike how they themselves were thrown in. If Devora was in their position, she would feel betrayed as well. After all, they spent enough time together in the cells and had built a friendship of sorts. Now, she was caught acting chummy with the enemy. That was a punch in their guts.

"You know," Leah continued, anger clear in her tone as she glared down at the older girl. "I just didn't imagine that you were a traitor too. You seemed genuinely in trouble. Like us. I knew I should've thought better than to trust my brother's judgment."

"Leah," Travis harshly spat. "Don't start this again."

"Start what, Travis? Tammy is dead! Not only that but her body is also left in the woods where wild animals will soon make a feast out of her! She didn't deserve any of this! She had a whole life ahead of her—"

"Shut it!" Nathan snapped, cutting into the two siblings' brewing war of words with a sharp glare of his own. "Zip your mouth before you get all of us into trouble."

"You're one of them," Leah hissed, seething. Venom laced her voice, enough to make Devora's blood curdle. "Why should I take orders from you?"

"Because I know damn well how to use one of these." Without a second's pause, Nathan pulled out his handgun, putting it on display but not aiming to shoot. "And so do they." Nodding his head towards the front of the helicopter where the rest of the men sat, he threw Leah a pointed look. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened with your sister. They weren't supposed to do that but what's done is done and you can do nothing about it. The dead can't return to life just because you nag your mouth off like an eighty-year-old woman. So do all of us a favor and keep your damn mouth shut before you get us all killed. Where we're headed, one wrong word, one wrong look and it's a bullet through your skull. Got that?"

That seemed to be enough to get Leah to lay off. She leaned back in her seat with an undignified huff, scowling. Devora could see different plans and plots of revenge twirling around the fifteen-year-old's mind. They were no doubt along the lines of murder, at the very least.

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