"Fucking hell!" I looked down at my white shirt and cursed. I had to go to dinner with Landon to discuss some news he had told me he acquired, and my current target just spat his blood all over my shirt.
Bryan Walters, 45, known for laundering drugs and guns throughout the world through shipments with hundreds of crates stacked highly on top of the decks. I did my homework on this guy and I know he made a deal with Niall selling him a new shipment that came over near the Great South Bay. I knew all the information he was supposedly going to inform me of, but what's the fun of skipping out on some free torture?
"Alright big guy, you wanna play games, yeah? Let's see you spit on me again when you have no tongue." I grabbed his bloody hair and yanked his head back.
The man chained up on the wooden chair tried to squirm out of my grip white I grabbed a pair of modified scissors with a grated edge. I turned the pair of scissors over in my hands contemplating which way I should cut off his tongue, hoping it wouldn't make too much of a mess on my shirt.
"Stop please! I don't know where Niall Horan is! I don't even know the guy for fucks sake, let me go and I won't tell anyone." The man helplessly screamed for his life. Too bad.
I opened his mouth with one hand and cut off his tongue holding the scissors in my other hand. I knew I would get more blood on my shirt but he was talking too much. And frankly, he was just annoying.
He sat there choking on his blood as I watched. Finally, when he stopped moving and making noise I poured gasoline all over his dead body. I grabbed a pair of matches from my back pocket, careful not to get any blood on the box, and pulled out a match. I lit the match and threw it onto his body.
I didn't stay to watch him burn like I usually do, I was already late and Landon was going to kill me. I walked away as his body was burning behind me, I had rented out a storage locker in the middle of nowhere and paid off the man who gave me the storage locker fairly well so I'm not worried, I've done this countless times.
I put the box of matches into my back pocket and pulled out my phone.
"On my way, got held up." I sent a quick text to Landon hoping he wouldn't be too angry with me.
Landon is always so fucking uptight. If I don't get my job done in the time he assigned me he decides to call and text hundreds of times. He's my boss and likes to treat me like shit, even though I can tell I make him nervous he hides it well. I think people are intimidated by my hair. I mean it is getting pretty long, it's touching right below my shoulders now.
I decided to grow my hair out once I found out the longer my hair got, the more I appeared intimidating to everyone, not like I needed any help in that department I just cut off a man's tongue for god's sake. I'm not sure If I'm going to cut my hair again but I'm not the type of person to plans things out, I act on impulsivity.
I got into my car and turned the key into the ignition. This is a new city to me, I've never been to New York before, so I put in the address Landon texted to me and started my drive. I played some of The Neighborhood in the car on my way to the address.
I'm getting closer to the address he sent me, and all I see are neighborhoods for miles. When he said he wanted to meet over dinner, I assumed it would be at some restaurant or bar, not some bloody residential house.
"I'm surprised you came somewhat early, come on in," I was greeted at the door by some woman I have never seen once I had gotten to the house and parked my car into their driveway. She looks like she's in her thirties with light blonde hair. I walked inside without speaking to her and looked for Landon.
YOU ARE READING
Awaited
FanfictionRyan, a 19-year-old FBI agent is assigned one of her hardest cases she has had to work on in her career. She has to weasel her way into the life of Harry Styles and his friends without rising suspicious to reach the final objective. Will she complet...