It was supposed to be a regular job. A regular hit for his uncle. He hadn't expected that you would be present. Nonetheless, you were innocent, he couldn't take you out of the equation.

"Get up."

Christopher ordered, dark brown eyes locking on you, tucking his firearm in the back of his jeans. When you don't move he become firm.

"Get up. You're comin with me."

He ordered staring you down.