KILLSHOT // [H.S]

011. THE DEAL // CASSEROLE

011. THE DEAL // CASSEROLE

"How about we make a deal, Bambi?"

Taking a sip from her mug, she pondered the possibilities of his question. "What kind of deal?"

"I'll give you extra time to get some more cash."

"Okay, well, unless Johnny gets bored of Amber's mouth in the next few days, I won't be getting my shifts back. And, I highly doubt that will happen since no one else wants to sink that low and do the deed."

"You can work for me and we will split your tips. Ninety-ten."

Her ears perked, intrigued by his offer. "Wow. I'll be able to pay you back in no time! Wait - what's the catch?"

"I want proof that you still have my locket. A photo will do."

"If your goons stop following me around and stalking me through my windows, I would be happy to take that for you."

A grin crossed his lips as he rose from his seat and circled the kitchen island. "I'll give you thirty minutes tomorrow at noon. How does that sound?"

It was more than enough time, but she didn't want him to know. "Fine," she grumbled. "I guess."

"Good girl." Resting his hands against either side of her small frame, she was trapped between him and the counter. "Just so we're clear," he whispered into her ear. "Our split does not count towards what you owe me. And, until I get my locket back..." teeth nipping at her ear lobe, he was rewarded by a muffled moan, "I get the ninety percent, you get ten."

"What?" she cried, pressing her hands against his chest, creating distance between them. "It's going to take me forever to fucking pay you back!"

"Isn't that a shame? Well, guess you have never stolen from me in the first place, Bambi."

Anger erupted deep in her belly as she listened to his taunting words. No sex on earth could make her forget how much she hated him. All of this over some shitty locket? That's what he was really after. Not the cash. Not the other items she took. Just this damn locket.

The realization quickly dawned on her.

"You can't kill me."

His head cocked to the side. "Excuse me?"

"You can't kill me," she repeated with a wide grin. "If you do, you might never get it back. Because you don't know where it is. That must kill you - getting outsmarted by someone you think is so stupid. I bet it eats your sad little ego apart, doesn't it? Because no matter how hard you try, you don't know where I keep it and that makes you shit at-"

Pulling his weapon from the waistband of his pants, he fired a bullet. The vase on the table behind him shattered into pieces as Rory let out a scream and covered her ears, falling to the ground in the process.

"Come on, Bambi," he huffed, pulling her back onto her feet, "When are you going to stop reacting like that?"

"When you stop fucking doing that!" Pressing her hands against his chest, she shoved him back. In hindsight, considering Harry still had a gun clutched in his hand, shoving him wasn't her smartest decision.

"What am I doing that has got you so scared, Bambi? Is it this?" He raised his gun. "Does it scare you how fast I can shoot something? Worried that might be what happens to you?"

A knock at the front door stilled Rory's heart.

"Expecting another guest, Bambi?"

Harry could see the fear and worry spread across her expression, telling him she was in fact not expecting someone.