Kill Me Or Kiss Me? (JenKook)

20

Jennie

"I don't work for free, Mr O'Hara. And honestly, I expect a certain level of professional courtesy."

He laughs. "I'm showing you it by not killing you."

I smile, narrowing my eyes and lounging in the chair casually. "Haven't you heard? I'm untouchable."

He moves closer. "No one is untouchable." He says, glaring down at me. "So what will it be? You work for me or I use you and torture information out of you."

I throw my head back and laugh. "You might as well just kill me now. You'd be wasting your time."

I spring up from the chair, clasping the curved metal of the handcuff in my fingers and raking the serrated edge over the side his neck.

He staggers back a step in surprise, and I get a clear line of sight to the guard on the left of the door. I throw the slim blade in my other hand at said guard and it hits him in the side of the neck. Blood spurts from the small nick like a hosepipe being turned on. The other guard glances at his friend before pointing his gun at me, but I duck behind his boss who provides an ample body shield. Of course, O'Hara has recovered from my earlier swipe. It was only a flesh wound and although there's a lot of blood, he's annoyingly fine.

The door flies open on a bang and the quick pop pop of silenced gunfire has Finnegan grabbing my arm tightly and turning us to face the door. He forces me in front of him, ramming the barrel of his gun into the side of my neck.

"Jungkook." I barely breathe.

He stands in the doorway looking like the devil himself come to mete out his wrath. His chest rises and falls raggedly and the muscles in his jaw pulse beneath the skin. Namjoon lingers in the hallway just behind him. His gaze briefly touching on mine before he goes back to keeping watch.

"Well, well. I see ya finally found the balls to come after me yourself." O'Hara taunts, his hold on my arm becoming tighter.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side slightly. "Oh, no. This one's all on Jennie." He says casually, but the meaning is all too clear, this is my fault.

"I can see why you'd want her back." O'Hara presses his face into my hair and sniffs. I scowl and try to shrug him off.

"But this is a risk. Isn't that her job?" He laughs.

Jungkook's eyes lock with mine, dark and turbulent and promising nothing but pain and retribution. Something passes between us, a mutual understanding of necessary violence.

Anyone else might hesitate, but I see the minute twitch of the muscle in his shoulder before he pulls the gun up. Grabbing O'Hara's right wrist, I shove it away from me, digging my finger hard into the nerve that runs through his fore arm. I twist my body side-on as I do.

Two bangs ring out, and then he's falling.

O'Hara lands flat on his back, gasping desperately for air as a red stain slowly bleeds out across the centre of his chest.

Jungkook comes to stand beside me and fires one shot at the dying man's head. He then turns, wordlessly, and walks straight out of the room, climbing the steps that lead to the hallway. There is no time to hang around, so I follow him and Namjoon falls in behind me.

I can practically see the anger swirling around Jungkook. His back muscles are tense and the way he walks, it's as though he'd flatten small buildings with his rage. For once though, it's warranted. I feel like an idiot and I wonder how I got here. I've always been meticulous and know that mistakes and rash action are what get you caught. Acting out of desperation could have gotten me killed.