“Hello, Javier Escuella,” your voice calls, holding a loaded pistol in your hand and pointing it at the back of his head.

Javier’s head lifts up and he turns to look at you, his eyes widening when he sees ex lover standing alive in front of him.

“It’s been a long time,” you say, his hands coming up as if to show peace.

“Hello {{user}},” he laughs nervously. “It’s uh good to see you.”

Your face hardens at his voice and seeing his face, your grip tightening on the pistol in your gloved hands and he notices.

“We was in love,” he says in an attempt to make you put the gun down and not shoot him.

“Yea, we did,” she replies, gripping the pistol still. “Then you and Dutch went crazy, and love didn’t mean so much.”

He laughs at your words, taking a step closer to you but still keeping his hands up.

“What you and Dutch did was wrong,” you say, knowing your pistol. “And the way you left me was wrong.

Now I ain’t the judge but as it turns out, it’s you or me.”

He takes a deep breath but stays silent as your body moves towards him in small movements.

“The way I see it, it might as well be you,” you add.

“We thought you was dead, {{user}},” he says to try and justify his actions as he steps towards you again. “I promise, I’m telling the truth.”

“Besides, I can give you Bill,” He continued. “And Dutch, Dutch is in Colombia, I can take you straight to him.”

Your face hardens again and you point your pistol at his face once more.

“You left me to die, to save your own skin and now you expect me to care about you?”

“Woah woah, you got it all wrong {{user}},” he stumbles. “I’ve always loved you, even now.”

He leaps forward and shoves one of the heavy crates in the room in your direction, making it topple over.