KIngS and QUeeNS (part 10)

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"You have what you want, now where the fuck is Amelia?"

Y/N's blood runs cold, body aching and she can feel the fear tinge her fingertips. She's trembling, every single ounce of her quaking in her skin and she doesn't know if it's mainly from fear or heartache.

"Tommy, what the fuck are you doing? Who's Amelia? What's going on?" She sobs, breathing erratic like she's just running a 10-mile marathon. She stares at him, her plump bottom lip quivering with every shallow breath she takes.

He can't look at her, can't bring himself to face those glassy eyes and the absolute terror that haunts them. He can't fucking stand to see her drown in the pain he's causing her.

Instead, he keeps his Blue Steel and clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.

The blond across from him offers a sardonic laugh and waves the loaded pistol around comically. "Jez, you seeing this?" He asks the taller man, nudging his arm with his elbow. "The little bitch has no idea what's going on," Jez speaks. His accent is not as thick as the blondes, but still apparent.

The two snicker to themselves, losing their composure at the idea of Y/N being completely and utterly clueless throughout what they have planned.

"Enough," Tom demands.

The two fall silent and the third shuffles his feet, hands crossed over his crotch as he holds the barrel of his gun. "A deal's a deal. Where is Amelia?" He asks again.

Y/N looks around with frantic eyes, the mention of the unknown woman splintering her ears again and she faces Tom with the darkest form of heartbreak she's ever felt... a feeling she never knew existed.

Everything hurts. She can feel the heartache tingle in her bones, a heavy spasm tugging at her fingertips and it's like gravity is forcing her to the ground, pulling her down into a suffocating promise of loneliness and doom.

It's that name, that stupid fucking name. It's like everything makes sense now like it all adds up. She knew it was all too good to be true, it had to be. The whole time she let herself fall for him, let herself believe he was starting to feel the same way. And all for what? For him to use her as a bargaining chip, a careless penny to buy himself what he really needs, really wants.

And that isn't her.

He avoids her gaze, refuses to watch her crumble in front of him. His heart is already stammering in his chest and for once in his sorry life, he's nervous about what may happen if this doesn't go to plan... if by some twist of unfortunate events, she is alive.

"Don't look so glum, sweetheart. Being tied up with the Mob always ends in certain death. Be thankful he's handing you over when he is... our boss has big plans for you, Princess."

Her stomach bubbles in fear and disgust. Panic washes over her in drowning waves, ones that knock you off your feet and swallow you whole, that shock the air out of your lungs and leave you choking on the suffocating water.

She turns to them slowly, clenching trembling fists by her sides. Jez snickers again. "Martin was sure you'd be enough to pay off his debts," he begins. "And Thomas here was happy to help with your whereabouts... after, of course, he found out about his beloved Amelia."

"That son of a bitch," Y/N whispers to herself, biting back the heaving need to sob and crumble to the floor. Of course, it was Martin, who fucking else.

"He was right, wasn't he, Damian," Jez calls out to the blond, licking his teeth with a snarky smirk, the kind that haunts your dreams and creeps through the darkness of the night. "She looks just like her."

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