bullets ↯ 5sauce a.u.

one

i feel my lungs burning in my chest. my boots pound against the asphalt road, suitcase full of cash clutched in my gloved hand. the metal rim kept banging at my thigh, making it difficult to run. i struggle to push myself further.

the open trunk of a white van comes into view. i can hear the blaring radio against the clamor of the police behind me. i grit my teeth and urge to my frantic steps into lunges. i near the vehicle quickly.

"start the engine!" i shout ahead of me. i hear the van rumble to life. my hair sticks to my forehead, the humid summer air making my face sticky. i see a figure dressed in black shift to the back, hands out.

"did you get the cash?" it asks expectantly and i recognize 'it' as andrew.

"yes," i say through gritted teeth and heave the heavy suitcase onto the raised floor of the van. his eyes flash with greed and he flips open the case, analyzing the green bills stacked inside. "help me up, andrew." i growl.

he looks at me reluctantly. my blood boils. "i just robbed a god damned bank for you, phillips, help me up." i growl through gritted teeth. he rolls his eyes and grabs my gloved hand, heaving me up to the carpeted floor. rap music blares through the speakers. i sigh at the music taste.

i take off my gloves, wringing my fingers out. "start driving, pearce." andrew demands. the van lurches forward, driving quickly. i lean forward and slam the trunk doors shut.

he looks back at me. "impressive work today, charlotte." he smirks at me.

i eye him warily. "thanks," i exhale.

"not too hard?" he inquires. i quirk an eyebrow at him.

"no?" i say. it rolls off of my tongue as more of a question. "as easy as always."

he leans his head against the wall of the van. "good. then it won't be hard for you to find a new place of work."

my heart jumps into my throat. i whip my head around, my dark eyes burning his blue. "you--you," i swallow the bubble in my throat. "what?"

he smirks at me in the dim lighting of the van. "we won't be needing you anymore, doll." i clench my fists, nervousness morphing into hatred.

"are you being serious right now?" i screech. "i just-- i just robbed a bank of $50,000 cash without a single scratch. i've done it a thousand times before. i've saved your sorry ass from prison more than once. you don't need me--?"

humor glints in his eyes. the asshole was enjoying this."your attitude has been a bit much, and your job isn't that difficult. a replacement can easily be found." he meets my eyes with a smirk. "a replacement with less of a mouth."

i clench my teeth. "if my job isn't 'that difficult' why don't you do it yourself?"

he takes my hand and squeezes it. "sorry, babe, but your work here is done." my mouth is agape.

i feel my blood boil and my hands begin to shake with anger. before i can think, i grab his wrist and twist it, earning a yelp of surprise. he flips his switchblade and swings his arm foreward. i feel the metal pierce my skin slightly. i push his arm away with my forearm and snatch the sleeve of his hoodie, pulling it over his arm and twisting it behind his back. i repeat the actions with his other arm, then tie the sleeves in front of his stomach.

"so, no goodbye kiss?"

i punch him in the stomach. he bends over in pain as my hands find his belt buckle and i slide the leather belt from his black jeans. i hear him chuckle.

"kinky,"

"shut the hell up," i hiss. i push him to the ground and straddle his back. he kicks his legs in efforts to gain momentum. i huff, irritated, and sit on his arms and pull out the colt python sitting in my belt. the barrel is pressed to his temple.

he stiffens. ❝you couldn't pull the trigger if you wanted to,❞ andrew challenges breezily.

❝you clearly don't know me well enough,❞ i shot back. i pull the barrel from his head and shoot the back of his left knee. he howls. i quickly shove the leather strip into his mouth, tightening it behind his head.

the blaring radio dies down and the van pulls over. i hear pearce shifting in the front seat. i raise my gun. "hey, pearce," i grin at him. "perfect timing."

he grimaces. "did andrew--?"

i nod with a sickeningly sweet smile on my face. "he did,"

he scratches the back of his neck. "i, uh, i hope this doesn't make it, like, awkward between us or anything." he motions between us. i mentally face palm. then i shoot him in the knee. he collapses to the floor.

"no hard feelings?" i singsong. he groans. i bend down, picking up the suitcase full of cash and a duffel bag. i lift it, the content inside shuffling around. "you know, i really hate to shoot and run but i don't really care." i check the clip on my gun. seven bullets left. i sigh and feel my belt to assure myself that my two extra clips are there.

i kick the trunk doors open and hop out. we were on a near deserted, pulled over by the woods. i let three bullets fly, nailing three firestone tires of the van. i look into the doorway of the van and give a mock salute. "so long, boys, i won't miss you."

the only source of light coming from the truck headlights faded quickly as i walked through the forest. my eyes adjusted to the darkness. i sit on a boulder and zip open the duffel bag, smiling at my finds. two glock 18s, several clips, a bow and a quiver of arrows. i felt a slight disappointment at the lack of hands-on equipment, but i shove it away. my hands find the dagger stashed on my inner thigh. i pull it out, examining the blade.

"i shot their tires," i laugh aloud, astonished at my own actions. i run my finger across the smooth of the shiny iron blade. my heart felt lighter, and i felt happier than the last four months i'd been working with andrew. "i show andrew in the knee." i throw my head back, letting my laughter echo through the empty forest.

the crunching of leaves behind me makes my head perk up. i build my walls back up and tighten my grip on the brass and copper handle and i abruptly turn around, arms poised to throw the blade.

my eyes land on a boy, a few inches taller than me, arms poised out, hands wrapped around a beretta M9. the barrel was pointed at the center of my forehead. his dark hair fell over his forehead in messy tufts.

"hey, pinkie," he muses with a smirk. "what's in the bag?"

-

i rewrote this so many times lol. i couldn't decide whether to make the last line sassy or serious but hey who cares.

i reread this and semi-edited and stuff so idk if there's any typos but if there is do not point them out pls & thanks

i feel like this is too short and it's moving too fast