Deadline≫hemmings a.u

1.3

"How the hell you managed to fuck this up is beyond me," Luke snapped at me, running his long fingers through his blonde hair.

"Me?" I whirled around to face him, my face burning. "How is this my fault? Please do enlighten me, Hemmings. I'd love to get a little insight on your screwed up logic."

"If it weren't for you, we could have gotten back to the car before those stupid kids slashed our tires!" Luke paced around in front of me, his eyes narrowed.

"How do you even know they didn't do it way before we were on our way back?" I countered shaply, but Luke's expression made it clear to me he wasn't going to listen to reason. As usual.

"Well if you two hadn't pissed off whoever the hell it is that's after us, they wouldn't have-have intercepted us," I fumbled for the words, glaring at the tall blonde.

It had been three days since our mishap in Raleigh and we had been on another run, this time into someone's house for their account numbers, or whatever the hell it was that Michael said he was getting. It was going perfectly well, up until I ran into one of those men on my way back to the car. Thankfully, Luke was close enough to swoop in to the rescue and put the guy down quickly, this time without even a scratch to show or the use of a gun.

However, even though the fight only added about three minutes to our time, it was enough so that by the time we got back to the car, our tires were slashed, apparently by some neighborhood kids. So now we were waiting at an autoshop for our tires to be replaced and of course while Michael was busy in the waiting room eating the free snacks they had, Luke and I were out back yelling at each other.

Luke groaned in frustration, halting in his tracks and spinning on his heel towards me. He stalked towards me, backing me against the brick wall of the auto shop. He reached down, tugging the end of my shirt, revealing the gun in the waistband of my jeans.

"You see this, Mel?" Luke asked through gritted teeth. "This is a gun. And if those guys come after you, you use it!"

"I'm not gonna shoot anyone else!" I protested, but instantly quieted. Luke and I stilled as a bus rolled to a stop nearby, letting out passengers. But this little intervention did nothing to cool either of our tempers. The moment the people were out of sight, we were back at it.

"God!" Luke groaned, rolling his eyes. "You are so naive!"

"I'm not naive!" I snapped. "I'm an actual human being, Hemmings. Unlike you, I do have a sense of right and wrong."

Luke sent me a heated glare that would have made me shrivel up into a ball if I hadn't been so pissed. He yanked my hand up so that it was eye level with us and brought the gun to it, curling my fingers around it.

"Oh, I have a sense of right and wrong, Melanie." Luke said in a low voice. "If I didn't, I probably would have shot you with your own gun five minutes ago."

I paled at his words and how serious he sounded. Would he really?

Luke rolled his eyes at me as if he heard what I was thinking. He turned back around and started walking away. "Should have dumped you on the side of the road before we even left New York."

"You're the one who dragged me into this." I glared at his back, awkwardly running my finger over the trigger. How the hell did he expect me to use this?

"Shut up, at least you're alive." He didn't even turn to look at me.

"Aren't you even a little bit sorry?"

"No."

"No?"

"Look." He snapped, turning around and walking off without even glancing at me. "If you wanna go, go. I'm not making you stay, but if you haven't noticed, you're still alive. But go ahead and go back to whatever life you were living, but once you go, don't come back."