"Wren," Leah drew back, instinct pulling her hand from his as horror pierced her. "You didn't..."

The tension in the air was thick as Wren simply looked back at her with a guarded expression. Then, a little smile lightened his eyes. "No, I didn't. I found I couldn't and that was probably the first wise decision I had made in years. It felt wonderful. "

Leah nearly swayed with relief. She should have known he wouldn't do something so horrid as murder. Then, the next worry sparked. "Was your boss angry when you refused?"

"I didn't refuse at first as I was torn and struggling with the idea when I left the office. I really disliked the man and was sure I could do the job without getting caught. We were evenly matched fighters, but with the element of surprise on my side, I could finish the deal on top so to speak.

"I decided to watch him for a few days. But, during that time, I discovered he not only had a young wife, but also a little son. Here I was trying to keep my Mom alive by taking another little kid's dad. Even in my confused state, I knew that didn't make sense. So, I did the exact opposite and warned him."

"I'm so glad you did."

"Me too. I remember feeling really good having done something right for once but then the Boss called me to his office again. I thought I wasn't going to make it out alive to be honest. I assumed he would be angry but instead, he offered me a second deal saying he wanted to help me. He put the same terms on the table but with a different deal. My mom getting her treatment in exchange for driving a truck to a scheduled meeting place two hours away. The one catch...was that I couldn't stop for anything and I couldn't look inside."

Leah scoffed, "That man sounds like - like - uh I don't know. I really don't like him!"

"Noone else did either but we all had our reasons for working for him, I guess. Anyway, I figured the cargo was weapons or drugs; I told myself even if I didn't drive the truck, it would still reach its destination by some other driver. So, I accepted. Finished the drive without a hitch and handed it off to the next delivery boy. Done. Job finished." Wren slapped a knee as if accentuating the finality of the deal. "But yet, I couldn't shake the feeling something was terribly wrong. The dread followed me all the way back home. Perhaps it was because of that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I decided to be a good Samaritan when I saw a man getting robbed in an alleyway. . . . "

*********************************************************

Hanging his head, Wren kicked a Dr. Pepper can that had been tossed onto the broken cement sidewalk by a thoughtless civilian. He had finished the job as requested, but something didn't add up. How was it even possible he could settle his mother's treatments with a two-hour drive? Dread clawed at the pit of his stomach, and the feeling of hating himself for what he was becoming washed over him. How had he gotten here? Surveying the grungy buildings of downtown Chicago, he sighed. This was not what he had imagined his life would become, and a desire for change pricked him. Yet, was it possible now? Had he dug himself a pit so deep it's top couldn't be reached?

He walked on, somewhere along the way missing the turn to Maggie's home sitting close by other trailers in the trailer park. He wasn't sure why, but the thought of crawling on the dirty couch he used as a bed appalled him. So, on he walked.

Suddenly, a familiar sound tickled his ears and his head jerked up, green eyes narrowed. The impact of a fist and the grunt of a victim; He would know that sound anywhere.

"Leave it," He muttered to himself as he tried to speed walk past the dark alley the sounds came from. Another hit and another gasp of pain; His brows furrowed with intensity. If he tried to stop it, he would definitely be picking a fight and in truth, he was getting sick of fighting. Violence followed him with every step he took.

"Maybe it's time to protect someone else besides yourself."

The thought struck him hard. Where it came from, he wasn't sure, but against his better judgment, he found himself spinning and dashing into the dark alley.

"Hey now, lay up, Dudes," Shoving his hands in his jean pockets to look less threatening, Wren grinned at the two thugs who had a middle-aged man pinned against a lamp post. Blood fell down the man's busted eyebrow, his lip swollen and when they released the grip on his expensive shirt, he crumpled to the dirt in a ball. The two thugs sneered at the dark shadow, then eyed the young man up and down as he stepped into the lighting.

"Who are you?" One asked, his chest puffing out in a challenge.

Wren felt a touch of sadness as he eyed the attackers, who were, in reality, younger than himself. "No one in particular," He tried to keep his tone easy, "Just someone who thinks you boys have had enough fun. Time to scram. "

"Or what?" The other scoffed.

"Or not much. You're just kids, so...How about I just take my friend here and you two run off to your mamas." Wren waved his hand in a careless fashion as he started to walk towards the injured man who had now managed to push himself to his knees, groaning occasionally.

"Or, how about you eat dirt!" One of the thugs yelled and reared back a fist meant to hit Wren in the face as he approached. Instead, the youth found his fist gripped in a strong vice, his arm twisted painfully, whirling him in the opposite direction of his attacker.

"I said get!" With a harsh shove, Wren pushed the boy forward, causing him to stumble several steps, though not fall.

"Oh, you are going to pay for that!" The second thug bristled as he walked boldly to Wren, his chest still puffed out. Obviously, he thought he was invincible, and Wren couldn't help but shake his head. In one quick movement, he thrust his forefinger down hard into the v of the boy's sternum, driving pressure into it. Being drove to his knees, the thug cried out as Wren smiled sarcastically. "Yeah, no, I don't think I will. Now beat it before I decide to give you a thumping!" Then for added effect, Wren released his hold on the boy's chest, and smacked him upside his head with a flattened palm.

The two seemed to need no other warnings as they scrambled off into the darkness. "You had better watch your back!" One shouted over his shoulder, but his threat seemed invalid when he stumbled over his own two feet and went sprawling into the dirt.

Wren chuckled just a bit. "Yeah. Okay. Bye!" He waved a mocking hand as he watched them disappear, before sobering and moving to the older man's side.

"Easy there," He put a steadying hand under the man's arm as he struggled to his feet. "Are you sure you should be trying to stand?"

"Oh I'm - I'm fine. Thank you, young man," The victim rasped out, but groaned as he straightened. Wren took in the expensive suit, before noticing the wallet in the dirt, surrounded by one hundred dollar bills.

"Looks like those kids almost made a haul tonight," Wren tried to grin at the man, resisting the urge to take the bills and run himself. Instead, he bent down and gathered the money and wallet and handed it back to the wealthy man.

"Thanks to you, that didn't happen," Seeming to be recovering by the second, the gentleman was now studying Wren intently. "And who might you be?"

"Uhh," Wren glanced down as he shuffled a boot in the dirt. Should he tell the man his real name? Finally, he looked back up. "It's Wren. Wren Adams."

When a hand was reached out to him, Wren took it in a firm handshake. "Well, I owe you a big thanks, Mr. Adams. I might not have escaped with such a small beating tonight if it weren't for you."

Shrugging, Wren didn't say he almost left him. "What exactly is someone like you doing here, if I may ask?"

A chuckle escaped the wealthy man before he winced from the action. He dabbed his busted lip tentatively. "That is a long story. Basically, I missed my flight and decided to rent a car to get home to my daughter. A flat tire and a mugging later, here I stand."

Wren couldn't help but laugh. "Well, how about I walk you to your car?"

"It would be much appreciated."

"I forgot to ask your name?" Wren slipped his hand back under the man's arm to help support as they started in slow movements up the alley.

"Oh, forgive my manners. It's Tony. Tony Kingsley."

"No problem, Mr. Kingsley. It's good to meet you."

A light chuckle came from the man. "Trust me, it is a pleasure meeting you as well."