We're Killing Strangers John Wick Novels & Stories

"Fiona, I know you're hurting, but you have to pull yourself together. From the clues we have, Ivy's last note is the key. You need to tell us what it said." I was on the verge of breaking down. I grabbed my head and screamed. "I don't know! I really don't know!" If I could, I'd do anything to find out what Ivy wrote. Why did my father and grandmother both kill themselves after reading it? Right then, Linda arrived in a hurry. She accepted David's suicide very calmly, showing no emotion. She stood at the riverbank and answered the police's question.

“I protected you. From him. From what he was involved in. From what was coming.” “And what is coming?” I demanded. A pause. Then: “People who want you dead.” The words dropped like stones. I froze. “They think you know something,” he continued. “About your husband’s dealings. They think you’re a loose end.” My knees nearly gave out. “You were supposed to kill me,” I said numbly. He didn’t answer. His silence was the only answer I needed. The stranger at the door cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the mess unraveling in front of him. “We don’t have time for this. We need to go. Now.”

Despite the haze of pain and disorientation, I recognized in the newcomer's gaze a momentary flicker of recognition, perhaps even sympathy. The man who wanted to kill me withdrew a gun from his side and pointed it in my direction. "Die, whore!" His fingers fit into the trigger but before the loud bang that would solidify my end registered, the stranger lunged forward, his movements fluid and deliberate. He expertly disarmed the other man, breaking his grip and rendering him immobile. The assailant's cries of pain merged with the desperate gasps escaping my lips, forming an orchestra of pain in the desolate room.

The boys quickly formed a defense stance behind each other giving me the chance to look at the source of such a strong voice. The tattooed stranger! “And who are you to tell us that?” The leading guy asked, his voice hard unlike that of a teenager he is. “Someone who can break your bones and dumb them in a police cell if you don’t leave this minute” he threatened It’s highly unhealthy how his strong command makes my painties wet in the face of danger. I must be going crazy.. The boys ran away in a matter of seconds leaving just the two of us in the area. “Uhhhm…. Thanks” I managed to say

I was never as angry as I was right this moment. As Lucas, uncle Stefan, David, and Erik, stood in the room looking between me and Jacob in confusion, I said in a scathing tone “Explain to us why you went rogue and all fucking John Wick on us to kill Patrick Walker on your own, Jacob!” “Wait, what? You killed him?” Uncle Stefan asks in bewilderment.

Everyone knows he’s ruthless especially the business world because he gives no room for second chance, many people believe he’s like that because he watch his parents killed by unknown assassin in his front and till this day, the cops couldn’t give him justice , so they don’t blame his attitude. At the underground world, he’s known as STRANGER , the young man who came and beat the Stan group becoming the number one weapon seller. The Stan were angry as they still wonders how he did it, that’s why they became rivals and kept sending men to spy on him to know how he manage to still deliver even tho the process became strict.

I wasn't thinking like a woman anymore; I was thinking like a weapon. A soft knock at the heavy steel door made me draw the Glock. I didn't ask who it was. I could tell by the weight of the step. "Sienna." It was Killian. He didn't break the door down. He didn't come in with a blade. He stood on the other side, his voice strained and hollow. "I killed them, Sienna. The cleanup crew. Adrian’s men. They’re all decorating the pavement in Queens." I walked to the door but didn't open it. "And Adrian? And your brother?"

“Now.” “No.” His hand found mine and squeezed weakly. “I’m begging you, Ariana,” he rasped. The stranger tilted his head, amused by our whispering. "Touching, really. But this ends now." Cole growled under his breath. “You want her,” he said, voice rough, “you’re gonna have to kill me first.” The stranger smirked. "That’s the plan." He lifted the gun. Straight at Cole. For one terrifying second, everything froze.

His face is bidding in a mask was not helping him at all. John felt a liking for the unknown killer watching his feet moved swiftly, dodging the bullets effortlessly even it when it hit him, he did not flinch. The killer wielded his swords, blocking the incoming bullets toward him. The slashing, stabbing and blood spilling was too gruesome for someone who has a fragile mind but for John, it was like watching an action movie. “ Once I catch him, I'm taking training for him. He is so good.” John paused and minimized the video then went to a file. Scrolling down, he clicked on the third to the last video and play then the screen displayed Cisco's office.

But when the door swung open, we both paused. A man stood in our living room like he belonged there. He was in his late forties, his broad shoulders spoke of either gym time or violence, with sharp eyes that missed nothing. A slight limp favored his left leg, but he held himself like someone who'd learned to turn weakness into a weapon. Killian stepped in front of me instantly, his body ready for action. The stranger spoke first. “You've been busy, Wolfe.” “And I have been advised not to speak with the dead.” Killian's voice was flat.