Tragedy Gave Me You

Randy Orton. Professional Hitman. Assassin. Killer. He had many names. The Viper. The Apex Predator. The only thing you needed to know, however, was that when he was sent after you, you should fear for your life. He killed everyone he was sent after. He had a success rate of 100% and a fail rate of 0%. He was one tough mother fucker and someone it would be best if you didn't mess with.

He was also expensive. You had to pay him big bucks to do his deed. He was top grade killing material, and that came at a cost.

His last project: Take out Nolee Lawler. And guess what? He did just that. He killed Nolee Lawler, and he did it well.

He was a sniper. He usually killed from far away. There were a few times, though, he did it execution style: A single shot, in his head, at close range. That was always a last resort, though.

Right now, he was walking down the street, holding himself in a way that made him seem cocky, but really was confidence. Confidence in himself and his job. He didn't realize, though, what his last project had done, who it had hurt. He never did. He never got emotional in his job, because that would lead to failure. Randy Orton was not a failure. No, not at all.

There were two things that mattered more to Carter Lacroix than himself. There was his job as a contract killer that helped him get money for his family and then there was his family. Not so much his parents, they had turned him into the dark monster he was, his sister had been the only family she had. She had been his partner, his best friend. And the one time that she went out for a job on her own, she was murdered.

He took a sip from the beer bottle at the bar that he was sitting at. The funeral had been yesterday, a horrible day. Now, now the only thing on his mind was getting revenge on the monster who had killed his sister. He knew who it was to: Randy Orton, a man who was feared in the business. Carter didn't fear him though. Carter didn't fear anyone.

Randy walked into a local bar, sitting at the bar and order a glass of whiskey, that and vodka being the only alcohol he drank. He took the glass and downed it all motion for another as his eyes scanned the room for any threats. They skimmed right over Carter, not knowing that Nolee had had family, or that her brother was out for vengence. And honestly, he wouldn't have cared. He had killed too many peoplethat would be 'scary' in other people's mind, sometimes with his own bare hands. So no, he wouldn't be scared.

When he saw Randy, the alcohol mixed with anger took over Carter. He downed another whiskey and stormed over to the table where Randy was sitting. He slammed his hands down on the table, staring down at the man, "Do yeh know who I am, Orton?"

Randy turned his head to the man who had spoken to him the anger obvious on his face. "Um, no, I don't think so. Should I? Have we met before? Did we have a one night stand? Sorry, I don't remember. I have themost horrid memory," he replied, calm as ever. He was so calm, all the time, people wondered if he had emotions.

Carter snarled, "Yeh wish we had a one night stand. No," he fished his wallet out of his pocket and found a picture of him and Nolee from just a few summers back when they had gone to London. "You might remember her though. My sister, Nolee."

Randy looked at the picture for a moment before it came back to him. "Right! The girl! Yeah, I killed her," he said and looked at him. "What was she to you?" Most people didn't dare confront him, but he liked the few who did. It was fun, playing with their head. He wasnted to know what this girl meant to him.

Carter grabbed his collar, pulling him closer. "She was my sister, she was the only damn thing that I had left in my life. And you killed her like she was just some nobody on the street you bastard!"

"To me, she was some nobody on the street. My mission was to kill her and I did so. I need to get paid just like you. Don't act like if I had family and you got hired to kill them you wouldn't take the job for money. In this business, it's kill or be killed. That's how it works. So don't get mad at me. I was doing my job," Randy said, not remotely affected by Carter's anger or attempt at fearing him.

Carter shook his head, "She was just a girl! She had her entire life ahead of her! Dammit, mark my words I'm gonna kill yeh. I'll kill yeh even if it takes my entire life."

"She was a girl in this business. Risk surrounded her every time she was alone. It doesn't matter if it was on the job or in the shower. She could have been killed anywhere. It is not my fault I got picked to kill her, and I succeeded. You want to get mad at someone, how about you get mad at the person who hired me? Why dont you try to find out who hired me?" Randy said, his thinking logical, as always.

"At least tell me she put up a fight, that you killed her humanely," Carter said, his voice still full of venom but letting go of his shirt. He sat back on the nearest chair, rolling his shoulders.

"She didn't suffer, if that's what you want to know. She was shot in the head. Instant kill shot," Randy replied. Randy ways of... Execution were fairly well known, and for women, he always made sure they didn't suffer. He may be void of feelings, but he still held respect for the opposite gender.

Carter nodded, closing his eyes to stop the tears from coming. He didn't want Randy to get the better of him. "I worked for years to stop Nolee from becoming like this...like me...but I guess that in the long run I couldn't. I just...I wasn't there for her enough..>"

Randy felt something in him twinge and he made a weird face. He wasn't used to feeling anything, but seeing this man... He didn't know. The man was impulsive, vindictive, attractive. It was alluring. And the accent... Randy loved southern accents.

Carter downed another shot of whiskey, "So who had yeh do it? The DiBiases? Or someone less rich?"

"I am not at liberty to divulge that information. It would voidmy contract and I would have to give them the money back. I'm sorry," Randy said, and honestly, he meant it. He really was sorry.

"A hint then?" Carter asked softly, looking at him as if it was the only thing that he really wanted.

"They have money," Randy said, though that wasn't really a good hint. Obviously if they went to Rany, they had money. He wasn't cheap.

Carter nodded, "Wasn't much of a hint but thanks." He stood up, "Well, I don't want to be a bother to yeh..."

Randy nodded, eyes scanning Carter's body. Damn, that man is hot, he thought, licking his lips.

Carter turned, his tight jeans revealing his well defined ass as he walked back to the barstool he had been sitting at and grabbed his jacket.

Randy licked his lips, eyeing Carter's ass. He was up and behind Carter in the space of a few seconds. "What do you say we get out of here to my hotel room?" he whispered in the southerner's ear.

Carter took a deep breath. This seemed wrong to him, sleeping with the man that had killed his sister. But dammit, he wanted it to feel right. "Yes..."

Randy smirked. He grabbed Carter's hand and led him out of the bar to the hotel across the street and up to his room. He opened the door, pulling him in and slamming shut the door, pushing him on the bed and straddling his waist. "Hello there," he breathed.