Targets (bwwm) *Completed*

Twenty Seven

"Yes. Yes, I know that." Omisha rolled her eyes as she listened to Sam read off terms she already knew about. This was their third year receiving the grant, so Omisha was already familiar with the entire process.

"And could you, please, tell Ms. Homes the new schedules have been sent out. I haven't heard back from her." Ending the call, she slumped back into the leather seat.

Oliver had promised they'd spend the day together, but sudden "business" came up that lead to her sitting outside the warehouse for the last hour. Even if she wanted to leave, she'd have to walk nearly 20 miles of highway before she got to any sort of civilization. Her spirits were finally lifted as she saw Oliver jog through the many men packaging things to be sent out.

"You're going to hate me." He nervously rubbed the back of his neck and Omisha balled her fists in frustration.

"What? What now?"

"We need the truck so you'll have to wait inside." Oliver opened the passenger door and stepped closer to her. His hands grabbed hers, partly to keep her from hitting him but also to soothe her. "I promise it'll only be another hour or two. Then it's me and you."

"You mean like when you said we'd only be here for ten minutes?" Omisha turned so that he stood between her knees. She was sure the frustration was clear on her face. If she'd knew this was what would've happened, she would have paid for Oliver to fly to her.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He moved his head to make sure she stared directly into his eyes. "I wanted to chill with you but things come up. You already know how he is, so this isn't really a surprise."

Before she could reply, someone cleared their throat. A large man stood over the pair, a scowl on his face. Oliver rolled his eyes before turning to face the man as well.

"Boss said hurry up." The man grumbled to Oliver despite his eyes remaining on Omisha.

"Boo." She cranked her neck to the side and threw him a stank face. The amount of irritation she felt at the moment ran her mouth before her brain could.

"Get your bitch under control before I do." He growled while eyeing Oliver this time.

"I ain't nobody's bitch, so you better watch your mouth." Omisha took a step down on to the gravel behind Oliver. Her body shook with unreleased energy and she silently begged for a reason to release years of pent up frustration.

Instead of addressing her words, the man gave Oliver a hard stare. Omisha could tell the man clearly outranked Oliver from the way his body was on high alert. She didn't care at this point, she was ready to fight.

"You know what, I got someone who can deal with your little friend." The man smirked before giving them the signal to wait as he returned to the warehouse.

"Look what you've done!" Oliver suddenly panicked as he turned back to Omisha.

"What did I do?" She rolled her eyes at his panic.

"Why can't you just be cordial?" He groaned while placing his face in his hands before running them through his hair.

"I am being cordial. But I mean, I could pull the gun from your waist and put a bullet between his eyes, if you would prefer that." She titled her head in faux innocence while smiling slightly.

"Who?" A sultry voice broke through the chatter outside before a chilling silence settled as everyone seemed to freeze. All the men previously doing labor suddenly turned to watch as a woman with black hair stormed towards Omisha and Oliver. She held a stern look that almost seemed sinister due to her deep green eyes.