Justin’s Point of View:
“What the fuck do you mean Luke? What the hell does he have to do with anything?” Bruce stared at me incredulously, confused as to why I had brought him up. “What about Kelsey man? Did the dinner—”
“There’s no Kelsey, Bruce.” I spat. “Forget the fucking dinner and get your shit together. The hit on Luke happens tonight.” I undid the first few buttons on my dress shirt, my white beater underneath.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Bruce shook his head, trying to wrap his head around what I was telling him. “Calm down bro and tell me what the fuck is going on right now. I thought we were waiting for the right time before we did anything?” He cocked his head to the side. “And what do you mean there’s no Kelsey?”
I shook my head. “We waited long enough. How much longer do we have to take before he pays?” I hissed, aggravation getting the best of me. “The fucker dies tonight.”
“You need to relax, Justin. Don’t think with your ass and use your head. I can tell by the way you’re acting right now—”
“How am I acting like Bruce?” I got in his face; my jaw locked tight, my eyes growing a dark shade. “Huh? How am I acting?” I repeated, death flashing through my eyes, the sudden urge to punch his face in overtaking me.
“Get the fuck out of my face, Bieber.” He spat, resting his hands on my shoulders as he pushed me back. “Or you’ll regret it.”
“Don’t fucking touch me.” I growled, moving away from his grip and shooting a glare his way. “I’ll fucking rock you in the jaw.” I sneered in disgust. “Regret shit is what I’m going to regret. You and I both know I’ll have you on your knees in seconds.”
Bruce didn’t say anything. Instead, he stared at me long and hard, his gaze as sharp as knives. “Something happened tonight, didn’t it?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I rumbled, my neck hot with anger. Anticipation began to build up immensely and all I wanted to do at this point was blow shit up, starting with Luke’s head.
His body loosened up a bit, the fury inside of me subsiding as realization began to kick in. “You’re on edge, your tense and you look like you want to kill someone.”
“No shit Sherlock. Did you get that now or before I mentioned Luke’s name?” I sneered in annoyance.
“You’re trying to pick a fight with me because you want to let your anger out and the question here is why you want to and why in God’s name you want to go after Luke tonight of all fucking nights.” He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans, standing up straight. “We’re not even fucking ready.”
“What the fuck do you mean we’re not ready?” I growled lowly.
“You can’t just come out of thin air and expect us to drop everything just to put a hit one someone. You have to plan it out first—”