𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥 | 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

03: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

The shot rang through the entire club and everything went silent-well, at least for about 3 seconds. People began running towards the exit while I ran towards my target.

I ducked my head low as I ran, hiding the gun stuck on my side. As I got to the scene, no blood was on the ground and no one was dead.

Did I not get him? I swear it was him, with the same black hair and subtle chin. That was the guy, the guy I've been trying to kill for God-knows how long now.

As I turned the corner to the back of the club, I stop dead in my tracks. There he is, standing taller than the last time I've seen him. The same stone-cold glare on his face as he tightly grips the side of his gun.

Damien Alexandre Petit.

I fucking hate that guy. Words cannot describe how much I hate him. No scale will be able to show my level of hatred for him. He's a fucking thief and a loser. The worse part about him is that he follows me everywhere and I can't seem to get rid of the fool. Every time we cross paths, both of us try to end each other's lives but something gets in the way. But hell is today not going to be the day. I'm going to make sure that when I leave this club, Damien isn't breathing and cut up into 6 pieces.

I reloaded the tiny gun in my hand and followed him into the room he entered. My body pulsed as I prepared myself for an ambush, a quick and efficient kill is all I have time for.

My foot kicked down the door and I entered. My mind immediately regretted that idea as I felt my gun being whipped out of my hand. My head turned as I watched the gun fly to the other side of the room.

Two large hands shoved me inter the wall, making my head turn in the opposite direction of the gun. My breaths increased as the person's large cold rings pressed into the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

I kicked my head back earring a groan from a now familiar voice. I grabbed Damien's shoulder with my hand and sent a punch to his jaw. Making him groan once more.

He lifted his arm off and uppercut me in the same place. Then his other hand came and punched my nose, the feeling of blood rushing down made me bite my lip harshly.

I kicked his stomach into the wall, he clutched his abdomen and groaned in pain. I used that as an opportunity to stretch over to the gun, my fingers lightly brushing over the storage at the back.

Damien kicked the back of my knee, causing me to go flying into the shelf in front of me. However, my finger quickly skimmed over the gun and I collected it, holding it by my waist steadily.

I turned around to see an angry Damien staring back at me. Blood rushing from a cut that lays on his bottom lip. We both had our guns held up to each other, mine placed under his chin and his placed on my forehead. Right in between my eyebrows.