Gifts for forcus
List of Gifts
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Summary
“I thought we were friends,” Gianna said. She faced John down, unafraid and unbowed, her sheer dress flaking the light over her skin. Her hair was bound in a crown of gold and brown ringlets over her expressive face. She wore regret in the thin press of her lips, but also pity. The pity had always been there, the strangest thing that John had always remembered about Gianna.
“We are.” John reversed his grip on the gun, holding it by the muzzle. Gianna straightened up as he walked to her, offering her the pistol.
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-Unscheduled appointment at the door,- Ares signed.
Santino frowned at the clock with a furious cat in hand. “It’s seven in the fucking morning. We’re not open. I don’t care if it’s the Manager or High Table or even an Adjudicator, they can make a goddamned appointment.”
Ares didn’t budge. -It’s John Wick.-
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“Jonathan,” Winston said as John stared down the barrel of the gun at Santino. His aim was true and his finger was on the trigger. John knew exactly how much pressure to apply to get the weapon to fire. He was already braced for the recoil, for the noise, for the stench. Death had been John’s shadow for so long that he’d stopped noticing the weight it bore on his soul.
Until Helen. John wavered. For the first time in his long career his aim shook, twisting fractionally to the side. Slouched in his chair, Santino smiled with the venomous pleasure of a man damned past caring. “You’re prepared to die,” John said, ignoring Winston.
“Aren’t we all?” Santino stabbed another potato with his fork.