Say You Hate Me

a favour

I wasn't exactly sleeping when I got the call. I was lying awake on my bed, staring at the chipped white paint on the ceiling. I was overthinking yesterday's mission and picturing a million ways to kill Igor. I was flirting with the endless methods I could use to watch the light fade out of his eyes.

I tend to overthink after missions. What move i could have executed differently or different threats i could throw at the opposition. My brain whizzes through possibility after possibility, until I've exhausted every option and its outcome. I'm bombarded with regrets and irritation, every tiny mistake I made eating me alive. How could I have saved more of my men? How could I have had a better outcome? How could I have done it differently?

Guilt has a funny way of gnawing away at your brain until you cannot possibly think of anything but the overwhelming guilt. You're suffocating- but you can never admit that because at the end of the day, it will still always be your fault. Your fault that they died and your fault that you feel so shitty.

The call distracted me from my thoughts and I hastily climbed out of bed and got dressed to pick her up.

What the fuck had she done now?

She's usually snoring peacefully, engulfed in a mountain of pillows and blankets by now.

...

"Hey," Elsie giggles uneasily, plastering a giant smile across her face as a male officer guides her towards me. He kept one beefy hand clutching the side of her arm to keep her on track.

I raise a wary eyebrow. According to her charges she had stolen and assaulted a shopkeeper. And it was shockingly obvious that she was not sober at the time.

Why the fuck was she alone and high at this time of night?

The amount of  assholes with a wandering eye that she probably came across made my blood boil. If I saw anybody stare at her like that, I'd gauge their eyes out.

"Assaulting a shop owner?" a raspy chuckle erupts from my throat as Elsie's eyes dim slightly at the reminder. "How did you manage to do that?" There's a humourous lilt in my voice.

"It's none of your business." she grits out, wrapping two slim arms around her waist.

"It is my business seeing as i just had to pay for your bail." i clap back without missing a beat.

"You didnt have to pay." she mumbles under her breath, cheeks flushed in annoyannce.

"I'm happy to pay for you." i growl, still awaiting her reasoning. "What happened?"

She exhales a resigned breath before speaking. "The shopkeeper-"

"Did he hurt you?" I snarl, ice freezing over my veins. "Consider him dealt with, sweetheart."

"He touched my ass." she reveals at last. "He offered to not call the cops if I spent the night with him and so I slapped him."

Anger sparked in my veins, the blood flow morphed into scalding lava. I made a mental note to tell Enzo to kill him as soon as I got the chance. My fist balled tightly as my jaw clenched unconsciously .

I wrap one arm around her waist protectively, sheltering her from the officer's prying gazes.

I guide her small frame towards the exit door, the bitter evening air embracing us instantly.

"Take this," I say gruffly, pulling off my hoodie and shoving it into her small hands. She eyes my clothes warily, as if she feared that it would burn her, before reluctantly taking it. Shooting me an appreciative smile, she pulled the hoodie over her body. I couldn't stop the fucking smile that ghosts over my lips as I watch her inhale the scent of my cologne lingering on the hoodie.