Kill Me Or Kiss Me? (JenKook)

15

Jennie

I'm sipping on my coffee, staring at Jimin.

(Her outfit ^)

Jungkook left first thing, barely speaking to me this morning.

"No." Jimin shakes his head. "Definitely not."

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. "We'll literally just go for a drink and leave."

He stares at the floor, a scowl fixed on his face.

"Look, I have to go at some point. We both know Jungkook isn't going to let me go on my own. Heaven forbid." I grumble. "I can't go with him because they'll probably shoot him on sight. You're Irish."

"I just have a little Irish blood!" He interrupts.

I wave him off.

"I'm not even half fucking Irish! I'll get shot on sight, too." He adds, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Fucking shit." He hisses.

"I won't tell Jungkook if you don't." I smile.

"I'm a shit liar." He huffs, scooping the car keys off the kitchen counter. "Fine. Let's go."

I hide my smile as I grab my gun from the kitchen side and tuck it into the back of my pants. "You're the best."

-

O'Malley's is an Irish bar in Woodlawn. The outside has tinted windows with dark green paint peeling off the window frames and an old steel door that looks like it's seen better days. If I didn't already know that it was the epicentre of the New York Irish Mafia, I might have guessed.

Although, right now, we're just ignorant tourists stopping by an authentic Irish bar. When we step inside, I can practically feel how nervous Jimin is. A few guys are sitting at the bar and they turn, eyeing us the entire way to the bar. I flash them a grin and they slowly focus their attention on me.

I don't want them looking at Jimin too closely. There's one thing to be said for mafia it's that everyone knows everyone else, and someone of Jimin's heritage will undoubtedly be memorable.

The barman braces his hands on the edge of the thick mahogany bar across from me, a frown pulling his eyebrows together.

"Hi. Can I get a vodka on the rocks and a whisky?" I say. I want them to think we're just two punters that have walked in off the street. Not that this place exactly attracts the average passer-by.

The man grunts some form of response before turning away and grabbing glasses,

"Ah, don't mind him, darlin'." One of the guys says in a thick Irish accent, flashing me a wink. He's a guy in his thirties maybe, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes that dance with humor.

"Wouldn't know a good woman if she were to slap him upside the head. And you," He flicks his eyes down my body, straightening the shirt of his collar with a cocky grin. "are a mighty fine looking gal."

Slipping on the mask of a nice normal girl into place is as easy as putting on a jacket. Smiling, I lean my elbow on the bar. "My father always said, never trust an Irish boy."

"Ah, and why's that?" He asks.

"Because you'd charm the birds out of the sky." I reply.

"Aye!" His friend laughs beside him, slapping him on the back. "This one would charm the panties off a gal in a heartbeat."

The barman puts the drinks on the bar, and I hand him some money before turning away.

There's raucous laughter as I turn my back and it's decidedly less tense than when we walked in.

We sit at a table in the corner, and I position myself with my back to the wall.

"I don't like this shit." Jimin grumbles, taking a heavy gulp of the whisky.

I sigh. "Keep your panties on. We'll sit. We'll drink. I'll go to the bathroom in a bit and scout an exit. Then we can go." I want to hit O'Hara here, because it's the last place he would expect to get hit and the only place I know he will come.

Jimin drums his fingers against his glass. Anyone looking at him would know, clear as day, he's upset.

I decide to speed things up and down my drink, before standing. The door at the back of the bar leads to a short passageway with ladies and gents toilets. I pass the bathroom door and follow the corridor that hooks right. Sure enough, at the end there is a fire exit, but it's locked, literally chained up and padlocked.

Shit.

Turning around, I freeze when I find the blond guy from the bar leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest and a wry smile on his face. A cigarette hangs from his fingers and he slowly brings it to his lips, narrowing his eyes as the smoke drifts up around his face.

"Ya lost?" He asks.

Shit.

I paint a smile on my lips. "I'm looking for the
bathroom."

He jerks his head towards the corridor behind him. "Ya walked past it."

"Oh, thanks." I squeeze past him and he makes no effort to get out of my way. I can't work out whether he's onto me or if he's just trying to get in my pants.

The second I get in the bathroom, I walk into a stall and bolt the door, bracing my back against it. Shit. The last thing I need is them taking too much notice of me. I need to come back in here when O'Hara is here, but then if this is anything to go by, I'm not going to go unnoticed regardless of whether blonde has made me or not.

This is a mafia bar. They know everyone, see everything.

Unless...

I open the stall and quickly wash my hands before stepping back outside. Sure enough, blondie is still in his spot, smoking his cigarette. I throw him a glance, making sure I lock eyes with him before I go back into the bar. I walk straight over to the bar.

"Do you have a pen?" I ask the barman. He hands me one, his surly scowl still firmly in place.

I grab one of the cardboard beer mats, the Guinness emblem all over it. I scrawl the number of one of my burner phones along with the name Isabelle onto the worn card-board. I hand it to blondie's friend who watches me the entire time.

"What's your friend's name?" I ask.

"Darren." He replies before taking a gulp of his beer.

I nod. "Give this to him, will you?"

He chuckles, taking it from me. "I sure will, sweet thing."

I turn and start walking out of the bar, signaling Jimin to follow.

"What the fuck was that?" He hisses once we're outside.

"My in." I tell him as we walk down the street, away from the bar

"Jungkook's going to fucking kill me."

I laugh. "Jungkook wants O'Hara dead. He can suck it up."