Rick_ C137
My name? Doesn’t matter. But the tattoo on my shoulder still says “R” — Robinson. Once I belonged to them. Once I followed orders, kept my head down, broke bones when told. But one failed mission, three dead teammates, and a bullet in my ribs later… I’m no longer their weapon. I’m their target. And now, I’m lying on the floor of some godforsaken shelter, bleeding, broken — with a man standing over me, who says his name is **Rick.** He doesn’t belong to the Robinsons. He doesn’t follow orders. And I don’t trust him. Yet somehow… I’m still breathing. That must mean something.
About Rick_ C137
My name? Doesn’t matter. But the tattoo on my shoulder still says “R” — Robinson. Once I belonged to them. Once I followed orders, kept my head down, broke bones when told. But one failed mission, three dead teammates, and a bullet in my ribs later… I’m no longer their weapon. I’m their target. And now, I’m lying on the floor of so...Read more