"Y/N.." he whispers. "You.. killed a man. In cold blood. For me."
My jaw tightens.
He continues. "Just shot him. Right between the eyes without even blinking. I know that you and I are close, but you have no idea what I've done. I deserved that bul...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
——————————
I kick my legs up, trying to knock him off balance, but someone else grabs my feet.
"Argh! Let me go!" I try to yell, but they start walking with me, clamping my mouth shut. Ignoring my protest. The one holding my arms shifts his grip on me, squeezing my bullet wound and I let out a pained cry, jerking my left shoulder down.
"See her shoulder?" The one with a deeper voice says.
"I know." The other one responds. "I saw."
Wow, I got shot. That's not a big deal if they even know what I did to their boss. They drag me back toward the motel and into a room? Most likely theirs. The one boy lets go of my feet and I see an opportunity to escape as he opens the door.
I move my head and bite the man's hand as hard as I could. He loosens his grip, letting out a yelp and I reach my hand down for the knife in my holster. I unsheathe it and swing down hard, hitting something solid.
Then he drops me. "Son of a bitch!" He yells and falls to the floor.
"Shit." The other one says and I see my chance to escape. I get up, but I stop the second I hear the hammer of a gun pulled back.
"You need to stop right now, Y/n." I turn to see the shorter one with his gun pointed at my head. "Just get inside."
"Last I checked, I'm needed alive." I snarl.
"I can still put one in your kneecap." He tilts his head and the taller one on the floor groans, anger flashing in his eyes when he looks at me and holding his leg.
I eye the staircase beside me, but before I make a move, a gunshot goes off at my feet, making me jump.
"Don't.. even think about it." He says, and gestures his head to the open door. "Get inside."
I don't have a choice. I slowly start to go inside, my hands up. Just as I get into the door, he stops me and his hand goes to my hip, pulling my gun out of my waistband. I grit my teeth together as his hand travels down to my thigh to grab the other. With the gun still pointed at me, he helps his friend up, getting him onto the other bed.
The man locks the door and looks between me and the other man with a knife still stuck in his leg. He grunts in frustration and goes to his friend to treat his wound.
"Fuck, Park just pull it out." The man groans and the smaller one shrugs, ripping the knife out of his leg. A pained grunt escapes his chest and he heaves his breath.
He presses on the wound, stopping the bleeding, but the injured boy takes over, putting pressure on his own wound.
