Kill Me Or Kiss Me? (JenKook)

62

Jungkook

Yoongi sits in the passenger seat, and I can practically feel the tension coming from him.

I usually acknowledge his advice, after all, he is a mafia man born and bred. He knows what it takes to hold power in the mafia, but right now, I don't give a fuck about the mafia.

I'm going to use every inch of power that I have to get Jennie back.

We pull up at the shipping dock. I get out of the car and the briny smell of the harbor hits me. I immediately light a cigarette, inhaling a lungful of smoke and watching it drift away on the wind as I blow it out. Yoongi comes to stand beside me. I walk towards the small maze of shipping containers in the center of the shipping yard. That constant rage is beating away at me, consuming everything in its attempt to fill the gaping void left by having Jennie torn from my side.

I walk to the container with dark blue paint peeling off the iron beneath. I pull the door open. The hinges creek loudly. The single light bulb rigged from the ceiling cast a harsh yellow glow over the inside of the container. Namjoon and Devon are here, both their faces set in a stony mask. Namjoon nods to me when I enter.

Devon is young for a capo, and unlike Namjoon's
hulking bulk, he could be a businessman, a young banker or something of the nature except for the fact that he's a blood-thirsty little shit.

Yoongi is my second because I've known him my whole life. He's the only person that can possibly rein me in when I go too far, which is often. He's my second because he has morals. Namjoon and Devon are my capos because they have none.

Namjoon moves to the side, revealing two figures huddled against the back wall, one clutched in the arms of the other.

"Bring them." I say, taking my gun from my holster.

Namjoon takes the woman from the arm and drags her to her feet. She immediately starts crying, heaving, desperate sobs as she reaches for the child. Devon grabs the kid. The woman and child are both shoved to their knees in front of me. The kid must be about twelve or thirteen.

"Take the bags off." I say.

Namjoon yanks the bags from their heads and they both blink. The woman is probably in her her late thirties. Her face is tear-stained and her dark hair is matted to her cheeks. The kid has blond hair, and despite having pissed on himself, he's not crying. His face is washed white, his eyes wide. His bottom lip trembles. As I look at them, I know I should feel something, because even for me this is bad. These people are complete strangers to me. They didn't take Jennie. They don't want to take my child.

And perhaps, as I look at this kid I should be thinking: what if this were my child? But I don't. I feel nothing but cold fury.

I think of nothing but sending Nicholai a message loud and fucking clear: I will keep coming for you, and I will spill innocent blood until the streets of New York run red.

I lift my gun and Yoongi shifts beside me. "Jungkook, please..."

I glare at him. "Do not fucking question me."

He drags a hand through his hair and then swipes his palm over his face. "There will be consequences for this. You are crossing a line you can't come back from." He pleads, his eyes flicking between me and the woman in front of me. She turns, pulling her child into her arms as she cries.

"In war, there are casualties, Yoongi. Until I get Jennie back, this is fucking war." I lift the gun and pull the trigger, shooting the kid in the head.

The woman screams until I pull it again, silencing her.

They both hit the ground and blood spreads out across the floor of the shipping container. I put my gun back in my holster and turn around, walking out.

I wait to feel some form of guilt.

Nothing.

Maybe I'm every bit as bad as Nicholai.

I don't fucking care.