The Mafia's Bride and Groom's (fxmxmxm)

Save the date

The gunshot echos through the house and Kniver's face goes blank as a hole appears in his forehead. The bullet goes directly from the back of his head through his skull to his forehead, but as the bullet exits his thick skull it shoots past Nya and nearly slices her throat open. 

Nya, the girl, and Kniver go down in a pile of messy blood-splattered limbs, and as the three of them lie there, a pool of dark blood starts to grow around them. Nya hears crying and screaming and as the shock wears out she realizes she still has the little girl in her arms, steadily soaked in the lake of Kniver's blood as she is clutched tightly against Nya's chest . 

This is bad. Very bad. 

"Dammit," Nya hisses as she finally gains control again. The gunshot and the shock of almost being hit had sent her to the floor in a blackened haze, but she was back now, and she was furious. This could have ended much worse. Any one of them could have died if the bullet hadn't hit exactly where it had. There were very lucky indeed, but that marksman would get an earful for nearly hitting civilians. 

Nya suddenly clamped her hand over the eyes of the little girl, the seven-year-old named Mia who had been abducted eight days ago and presumed dead. Kniver hadn't killed her like the others. He wanted to take his time with this one, but it was just enough to give Nya time to catch up to him.

But even with him dead he would leave a permanent mark on the girl, as the image of his blood-splattered face and dead eyes were etched into their minds. Mia would need years to recover from this. Nya never would. 

But she had saved the girl. That was all that mattered. 

Like broken glass Nya picked herself up and put herself back together, shielding the girl from the gore surrounding them. Kniver was like a broken rag doll with an endless bag of blood stuffed inside him. His insides pooled further and further until there was red permanently embedded into the floorboards, soaked heavily into their clothes and shoes. 

Nya, with one last look and a heavy breath, stepped over the body and walked out the front door. The little girl tightly tucked in her arms. 

***

This was no happy story but it had a happy ending. The bad guy dies. The victim is returned to her parents, who will teach her how to forget, how to forgive. The hero rides into the sunset. 

The hero is bloodsoaked and star-struck and remorse.

This story had a happy ending, but perhaps not for everyone. 

"I want my files," Nya spoke from the back of a parked ambulance. The sirens are turned off but the flashing lights of ambulances and police cars alike are hypnotizing in the warm Nevada night. Nya sits with her legs over the back of the truck, a blanket thrown over her back, but she remains uncomfortable in her blood-soaked clothes. Her bulletproof vest is like a snake, constricting around her, making her suffer. She refuses to take it off. 

She refuses to clean off the blood.

"I have them," Carter says as he stands over her. He's already debriefed her after their case and helped her finish all the final paperwork surrounding their current killer. He'll take care of everything.

Carter Dunway.

He is tall and dark-skinned and skinny, but he is also always very kind. He is her only good friend in the FBI but he is also the director second in command, a very important player in this game they play between the government and the Helgrim Empire. Carter knows that Nya works for Helgrim. Nothing else. "I've printed them all out and put them in the car. I-"