The Paid Men and the Mafia Girls
CHAPTER 27: ROOT OF THE PROBLEM
Jourrel fell silent, his body staggered back a few steps until he leaned against the wall. His body slumped, sitting on the race track. No matter the heat that starts to come. His eyes are straight ahead.
Tristan was still growling with his anger. His fist did not slacken in the least. His teeth sounded chattering.
"Inget no, I used to tell you, when I was in seventh grade, my house was robbed until I died? And what was taken was not money, not gold, but all securities, company letters, property ownership letters." Jourrel started to open his voice.
Jourrel looked up, suddenly his tears melted down both of his cheeks. His chest tightness when it came to reopening the wound. His throat was choked, he swallowed the saliva heavily.
"Until one day, there was a lawyer who kicked me out of the house. He said all the gono gini treasures no longer belong to my parents. I who still want to know nothing, invited to move outside the island gini nurut aja. We live as if. I work hard every day."
A bitter smile erupted from Jourrel's trembling lips. "Since graduating high school, I've come to understand that behind the robbery in that house, there's a mastermind."
Jourrel took a breath, "I accidentally met a conglomerate that people wanted to kill. I can slam him. Since I was a child, I have always practiced martial arts. In return, I was given a lot of money."
Tristan's gaze slowly softened, the grip on his hand fading. He sat down next to Jourrel, without cutting his story.
"Since then, I was introduced to the upper class. They used my services to kill someone, without having to involve them and be suspicious. Maybe because my face is too plain" he said confidently.
"I want to raise a lot of money, to get back home and reclaim what's rightfully mine and my mother's. Plus, mom is very sick. No job can get paid that much in a short time," the story of Jourrel who now turns to his best friend.
His mouth was gaping, he turned his head with eyes blurring from tears. "So .. you ...."
Jourrel looked, and now they looked at each other. His lips tried to smile even though tears kept falling. "Yes, I'm a hit man! All this time you've been friends with assholes, delinquents and no heart!"
His body curled up, hugged both knees and hid his face there. "There's someone who told me to take Cheryl's life. Long before I knew him, and before I knew who he really was. But now, I promise I won't hurt her again."
Jourrel got up from his seat, he stood his back to Tristan, but turned his head slightly. "sorry. I've confessed to everything. Now, I'm going. Take good care of Cheryl. And I believe you can keep this a secret. Even if after this you want to stay away from me, hostile to me, I accept."
His feet stepped slowly, further making a distance with Tristan. Shock? Sure oes. Tristan was very surprised by all of Jourrel's newfound recognition. He just stared at the back of Jourrel who usually looks strapping, this time looking slumped.
Tristan wiped her tears. He looked at the condition of Cheryl's car and Jourrel's motorbike alternately. Then immediately stand back to his car. The speed is fast until it stops transversely in front of Jourrel.
Suddenly, Jourrel's feet stopped. Their eyes stared at each other closely as Tristan opened his car window. Jourrel nodded slightly, then retreated and turned around.
"Wait!" tristan said that again made him stop.
Connect~