3rd Person POV

The white noise of the somewhat alive morning traffic hummed as the coffee pot finished producing the hot liquid. A furry paw picked up said pot and poured the drink into a small basic white mug.

"Mornin' sunshine" a bunny greeted Rocket as he placed the container back down, the latter jumping slightly.

"You're up early," the raccoon responded, walking over to where she stood in the doorway of their bedroom.

"Just wanted to say bye before you left," Judy smiled and kissed Rocket before heading to a chair, slumping down in it, sinking slightly.

"Well, I don't have to go for another hour or so," the brown one, grabbing his coffee and sitting next to his companion.

"Exactly, I always see you right before you leave," Judy smirked, placing her paw on his shoulder, shifting slightly to cuddle up to Rocket's side, the latter wrapping his arm around her opposite shoulder pulling her in closer.

Life had been simple for the pair, normal job, baby on the way, good income, and a nice apartment. Rocket admittedly was hesitant to return to the city at all, but after some convincing, he caved and they both couldn't be happier. But there was still that nagging tick in the back of Rocket's mind, Nick still being, for all he knew, alive. It bugged him that he had business unattended. Nonetheless Rocket put that aside the best he could and focused on Judy and his job.

Romanoff's Bar

The clinking of glasses could be deafening to the sad souls that travel here once or twice, but to the experience sack of shit that prowls the depressing scape of the dive bar, it's white noise to those outliers. One of these "interesting" patrons was a orange fox, sitting at the bar, semi-drunk, sipping the toxic liquid set in front of him. After the events in Foxville, he's been under the radar. He's been having dreams about the last moments he saw his raccoon opponent, on the floor, bleeding out with a strong wolf laid out next to him, drowned in a pool of blood leaking from its forehead. It made his fur stand straight up knowing that Rocket was still alive and he was the one that let him.

"Anything else sweetheart?" the bartender asked.

"Another one of these," the vixen then noticed the fact that the bartender was a female, and was a raccoon, "and a question"

"Oh yeah and what's.... that?" Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw him pull out a pistol, it's very thump against the bar sickened her.

"Do you know another one like you, names Rocket" the fox asked coldly putting weight on the gun, lifting it off the counter and pointed at her.

"Uh... ye-yeah I have"

"Oh! Great, I've spent all month killin fuckers cuz they either are too stupid to talk or don't know any better, you got a name miss?"

"J-Janet" she replied, shaking.

"Ok.. Janet. Oh I like that name. You're gonna give me everything you have on him, give me anything and I'll let you walk away. Oh where are my manners... I didn't even give you my name, well my name is Nick Wilde."

"All I have is a phone number he gave me a few months ago.." Janet replied taking the number out of the cash register, putting it there hoping that she would see Rocket again.

"Hmm... let me use that phone you got"

Janet attempted to grab the phone from the bar but Nick stopped her, "not that one"

She then gave over her own cell and he dialed and called the number on the napkin. Auto message saying the phone was no longer in service.

"Hmm... sad, thought I was gonna have my first win today, sorry but you know how things just are these days." Nick then raised the gun cocked back the hammer and...

*BANG*

Alrighty book 2 starts off with a bang... (Bad joke I know)