His Bloody Smile | ✓

05 - fragile

"i've always liked to play with fire"

•••

"How are you feeling?" Andrew asked me as soon as I stepped out of my room. This question had become part of our daily routine after I visited The Wynn, even if that had been three days ago.

"I told you that I am fine," I replied, "I am over it." I wanted him to stop discussing the incident with me because I felt guilty.

When he inquired about the man's looks, I panicked and distorted the truth. I was not that frenzied, but I did not want to make Andrew delay the job he had been planning any longer. I could not tell him I was used to dealing with such men either; he would probably ask why.

"If you say so."

"I do," I smiled.

"Alright, come on." Andrew motioned for me to accompany him, and I did. I already knew we were going to his Las Vegas arsenal since he mentioned checking it out yesterday. He wanted to make sure Elias had kept his word and delivered what he had told him to. "Through here."

He guided me through the various corridors of the house, and I tried my best to retain the route back but failed miserably. We took so many sharp turns I thought we were in a maze.

As we strolled along the mansion's hallways, I observed the details and amount of doors we passed. It must have been notably expensive.

"When did you buy this house?" I broke the silence, "Recently? I never noticed any money getting removed from your account."

"That's because I bought it before I hired you, Sabrina."

"Right." He smirked at my attempt at creating small talk and turned to stare back in front of him.

"Why did we walk so much?" I asked again after a while, "I did not know the house was so big." I could swear we had passed by this window at least three times.

"It's not," he acknowledged, "I just wanted to perplex you."

"Wha-"

"Here we are," he loudly announced. We arrived at a large metal door with a keypad next to it. Andrew inserted a code and then placed his thumb for a quick scan. The doors creaked open, and Andrew looked at me as he pushed on the handle.

"Follow me, love." I obliged, trudging behind him quietly as I thought about what he had admitted, "Welcome to one of my many armouries." He laughed.

This arsenal was not as great as the one back in his home in Los Angeles, but it still had an extensive collection of weapons. The crates I had seen when we visited Elias were here, tore open and empty of guns. I examined the variety of weaponry, amazed at what Andrew had access to with a thing as tiny as his thumb.

"Today," he began, staring at the illuminated walls, "Today, Sabrina, I'm giving you a rifle." Andrew stretched his hand towards a gun; his black t-shirt went with him, exposing a small section of his flat stomach.

I diverted my gaze to my feet as I crossed my arms over my chest, and I could feel his eyes on me. He had not noticed, had he?

"Here," Andrew suddenly stood in front of me, holding out the weapon he had just picked, "It's yours now." I looked up at him and stared at the gun in his hands. "Do you know what it is?"

"Of course I do," I instantly said, scoffing, "Why would I not?"

"Then tell me," he forced me to grip the rifle as he pushed it onto me, "What is it?" I grinned. He was asking me to give him information on one of my favourite guns.