Keep Driving [h.s]

one

"I thought we had a deal." The man says after spitting blood on the floor. Thank fuck, we laid this plastic bag down before starting.

"We did." I hum, circling his chair so I'm behind him now. I lower myself so my head is level with his ear and he squirms, tugging on his restraints.

I only escaped these ropes once and I only did it because I broke my hand to slip it free. It wasn't the best feeling in life but it was a better option than getting killed.

Good luck trying to escape them, mate.

"Until you decided to be a cunt and snoop around my business. You know, you should really watch out for hidden cameras next time." I place my hands on his shoulders, squeezing them tightly before circling him again so I'm in front. "Oh, my bad. There is no next time."

I'm done dragging this out. I pull my gun out of my waistband, aim it and shoot.

Blood splatters all over me, still warm and soon I taste the metallic taste that causes me to wipe my lips with the back of my hand.

With blood oozing out of the hole in his chest, his movements freeze as life leaves his body.

"That was quick." The door opens and closes once my friend walks in. He walks up to the body of the man and cuts the ropes on his wrists and ankles, freeing him.

"Didn't feel like dragging it out." I shrug nonchalantly, retrieving my phone from my front pocket. The screen lights up and reveals a number of notifications including text messages and missed calls. Both of the calls from Johnny.

"You got this, Z? I gotta call Johnny back."

Zayn turns his head to look at me while he's wrapping the body inside the bag we laid down on the ground beforehand. He really should've known he was only gonna leave this room in that bag.

"Sure, I'll just do the dirty job while you do a line in your car. Of course."

"Quit whining like a bitch. I can call someone else to get this done if you don't want to."

"No. Now go and let me work." Thought so.

Zayn is all talk. He always complains whenever I leave him with a job that's not necessarily his favourite thing to do but needs to be done. Usually, that job would be cleaning up after something like this. Like I said he's all talk though. He never actually said no. He doesn't fully trust our men so he rather gets the job done himself than leave it to someone who could fuck it up.

And I respect him for that. It's the reason why he's my right hand.

"See you tomorrow, Z."

"See ya."

It's two in the fucking morning and I'm exhausted. I woke up at five to work out but I was called in by a client at seven so the workout had to be cut short this time.

Closing the door behind myself, I tap away on my screen until it dials Johnny's number.

Two rings later he picks up.

"Styles. Where's your fucking phone?"

"In my pocket. I was working." I answer him calmly. I'm truly calm and collected. I know I'm done for the day and all that awaits me is a shower and my bed. Maybe a line of coke if I feel like it.

"No shit, Sherlock. Fucking answer it next time." He's annoyed more than he's pissed. Which is good. You don't want to piss off Johnny, trust me.

"What 'cha got me this time, J?" I unlock my car, twisting the key until it clicks and gets inside. The familiar smell of lavender welcomes me that oozes out of the air freshener.