Declan looked up to Norman, his hands set behind his neck, locked fingers, and a look of hatred to the man he once looked up to as a mentor. He was no stranger to weapons pointed in his direction, especially ones held by those he used to call allies. It wasn’t until he noticed his supposed ‘source’ standing in the background, arms crossed against his chest, that he had come to realize how they understood he would be coming. Even if these would be his last moments, Declan knew that he only had Autumn behind him, even if she would not know this, and even if she would not hear him, he had to speak these words for himself. But he would not do so upon his knees.
“Do not make any-”
“How long are you going to point that thing at me before you do something with it?” Norman seemed surprised befo
