6. The Dealer
// Justin //
♦♦♦
"We don't need no rats."
"Really?" she argues, and for a moment I'm taken back by the boldness in her voice. Damn it. She's on her knees in the middle of a dark forest with a gun pointed straight at her., and she doesn't even flinch as she states her argument: "How many drug busts have lost you business these past few months? How many customers have been scared away by ongoing investigations?"
Shit. She's right.
We've lost a large amount of business over the last few months due to cops sticking their noses in every fucking thing going on in this city.
"What would you do if I were to tell you that they're upping up their efforts for the next year?"
"You're bluffing," I spit, inching closer to her, my grip tight on the handle of the gun.
"And if I'm not?" she fires back, not wavering once in her stance. "I can help you; tip you off when they're moving in on a bust or feed you information about other compounds. You need me."
"We don't need no fucking one," I snap at her, hoping to drive the point in, but I can't for the life figure out if it's her or myself that I have to convince that this will never work out.
"Really?"
Fuck.
Ace is going to kill me if I return with her, but if it could make a difference...if she could really help, then maybe, just maybe, Ace wouldn't tear my head off for keeping her around.
She would have to prove herself. Yes definitely; give us something juicy to go on and then maybe the guys wouldn't have my balls for not blowing her head off of her shoulders and leaving her for dead here.
"I can't believe I'm fucking even considering this," I mumble under my breath, not meaning for her to see it, but I know she's heard it the moment her eyes dilate, giving away to the hint of hope and relief swarming in them. "I said considering, we've made no deal yet princess," I growl at her. I had hoped to kill the relief I see in her eyes, but I'm strangely relieved when she doesn't close down in fear again, but simply just hold her ground. I swear I can see laughter in her eyes if I really concentrate and it's driving me insane.
"Of course," she says, appeasing me.
"We don't take rats, they can't be trusted," I snap at her, "So why the hell would we make an exception for you?"
"Keep me; lock me up, whatever you need to do when I'm not out gathering information."
Is this chick for real? She would rather be tied up and under lock and key, rather than face the barrel of my gun in the woods. I'm not stupid; I know she'll try her chance at escape the minute we turn out backs to her. But still, it might just work.
I can't believe we're fucking standing here, my gun pointed right at her, and discussing a deal I should have no business even considering. If it had been anyone else, they would have been dead on the ground by now. I tell myself it's 'cause she's a Sutton and there's no way I'll ever live if it was to come back to her father that I pulled the trigger on her - hell the whole city would be turned upside down by morning time. But there's a nagging in the back of my mind telling me that even if she wasn't a Sutton we would still be in the same situation.
"You need me," she repeats her words from before, her eyes wide and intense as they stare at me. I want to curse the heavens and high seas for even considering this craziness.
"Ace is going to rip my head off," I mumble to myself, lowering the gun again.
"Ace?"
"You'll know soon enough," I mumble, more to myself than for her benefit. "Get up. We're going."
There's no 'thank you's', no further pleas, no mockery, and no relieved sighs coming from her. She's the definition of carved into stone as she rises from the forest bedding, her jeans wet and dirty at her knees and shins. Still holding my eyes in her steel gaze, she walks towards me and I step aside, allowing her to pass. I let her lead the way back through the forest, my gun strapped back into he waistband of my jeans and my eyes locked on her, in case she might make a run for it.
She doesn't and I'm surprised when she patiently waits for me to open the passenger door for her and slides in without hesitation. If it weren't for the fact that I'm beating myself senseless over the mess that will no doubt come from this I would take a moment to stare at her in bewilderment, at the fact that as a prisoner strolling away from her execution she looks like she's heading back into captivity gladly and willingly.
"Thank you," she says when we're both back in the car, heading away from the dark forest. Her voice is soft and smooth like silk wrapping around me. I shake the thought, before it can settle with me. This chick is doing a number on me.
"Don't thank me yet," I growl, as I try to imagine what the guys might do once they see her in the house. Hell what will I even do?
It's not that we've never had chicks in the house before, but this particular one has the potential to be a free roaming satan taking, and I just agreed to letting her take shelter in our headquarter; our most sacred place.
I've never once backed down on an assignment, never once backtracked on a decision of mine. I've never shied away from handling the mess I've created, hell I usually take care of everyone else's problems, without flinching. I don't even look away when I pull the trigger, and it's been so many times now that the nightmares over shadow one another and I can no longer tell them apart. But then this brunette bomb, and I mean that in the literal sense of the word because this shit will no doubt blow up on me in the end, meets my gaze without flinching and at the drop of an eyelash I'm backing down on all of my principals in order to safe her; to spare her from the ugliness that is me.
I allow myself one swift side glance at her, as I steer the car back towards the city.
No, Spencer Sutton definitely didn't look like Delilah, the girl who should've been the one bound and tied down in our boiler room; the one I should've dragged into this god forsaken part of the city. I should've known, after all I was the one who had handled the transfer with Delilah when she came begging on her knees for another half pound to fuel her addiction. But the moment we had stormed Spencer's apartment everything else had become a distant blur, and it hasn't seem to clear ever since.
Fuck. I'm so dead.
A/N: you guys are the best - for reals! I live for your comments! xx
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