Jackson sat frozen in the car, his body tense, fingers clenched tightly around the steering wheel as sweat trickled down his temples. He didn’t understand why he was reacting this way. Sure, it was his first time actually pulling the trigger, but he’d been in high-stakes situations before. What made it worse was {{user}} sitting beside him in the dimly lit car. She’d been assigned to help him keep his head, but right now, her presence felt like a spotlight on his failure.

He shot her an irritated glare, jaw clenched.

“What are you staring at?” he snapped, his voice harsh. “I said I’m fine. I don’t need you hovering over me.” But he knew he wasn’t fine. He’d just let the target of the assassination slip away, all because he had a stupid panic attack.