Are You Calling Me A Sinner? {BTSxReader}

18. A Contract

     Standing up quickly, you take the gun from your pocket, shooting in the direction of a white light switch. It pings the switch on, the bright lights shining and revealing multiple men in black outfits and protective gear. "Okay, you're going to need to drop all of that real quick."

     "Don't make a move!"

     "I'm literally not moving at all. Marshall was expecting me, though, so can you please tell him I'm here. He's already wasting enough of my time." The bookshelves that you saw earlier seemed packed, but one stood out from the other. In fact, a certain book looked different from the other. "Into the Magic Shop, huh? Now that is taste." Pulling it, it doesn't leave the shelf fully, just enough for something to unlock and let the bookshelf swing open. "Ah, I presume your Marshall?"

     Standing in the doorway, a strikingly handsome man stands before you, looking down at your figure that seems to be 3/4ths his size. He's lean, but clearly has some muscle, and has soft features, from a straight button nose to gentle eyes. His jaw is defined, but not too strong. His thin lips are turned up in a slight smile, hair ruffled and soft looking. "The one and only." As quickly as the bookcase was opened, it's closed, the young man grasping your arm and pulling you down flights of stairs farther and farther, until you reach what seems to be 'ground-level'.

     "Where are we going?"

     "A room. I'll explain when we're in." He looks at each door that lines the walls, trying to decide which to enter.

     "How big is this place?" Your footsteps echo in the hallway, surprising you with their loudness.

     "Y/N, any question you have needs to wait." He clicks his tongue, finally stopping and typing in a code on the key pad connected to the metal door. Stepping in quickly, he pulls you in and locks the door. The room looks comfy, but an underlying feeling of uncertainty still grips you. There's a couch, a coffee table, a fridge, and a square kitchen table. Choosing a seat at the table, Marshall chooses the one opposite. "I assume you have questions, so ask quickly."

     "Age?"

     "31."

     "Why are you so nervous?"

     "Rivals have some info and are planning to kill me. Need to lay low for awhile."

     "Why am I here at," glancing at your phone, "2:30 in the morning?"

     "Basically, while I'll be gone business won't take care of itself. R.J. will be the only person I'll have contact with, and because of this, I can't contact you... directly. That being said, we need a contract. If you were to ever be in danger or captured, I can't have you telling authorities or other gangs who you were working for. A lot of problems could result from it. So, I need you to sign this. It's a short term one until I can get back, then I'll have my attorney draft up an actual agreement. Sound good?"

"Give me until tomorrow night to look through it," you bargain, knowing better than to sign without reading the stack of papers.

"Y/N, I'm leaving tomorrow night, I need those signed now."

"And I need some fucking sleep. What time are you leaving?"

Rolling his eyes, he checks his phone. "11:00 p.m."

"Alright, you'll have them by 9 o'clock sharp."

"Y/N-"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, I came here in the middle of the fucking night, no bra and some slippers. I know how this business works. So now I'm going to tell you what I need, okay?"