𝟗 𖥸 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑

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"And we're done," Jin breathes heavily, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. Dried specks of blood paint his clothes and face.

"What did you do with the body?" I lean against the hood of the car, watching him walk back with the knife in one hand and his proof in the other. He carries his camera with the evidence to hand to the client later on.

"Oh, the usual... tossed him over the bridge." He shrugs. "I know what you're thinking, and yes, I got rid of the fingerprints and everything else that could tie back to our boss, us, and the client. We're safe." He sighs exhaustedly once he comes up to me. He leans against the hood, too.

We stare ahead at the dim lights on the bridge and take in the darkness surrounding us. We parked on the side of the road.

There isn't anything out in this direction. The bridge is huge, but the traffic is dead. It's the perfect location to dump a body.

Below the bridge is a river. The chances of finding the body are slim, but there's always a possibility. Luckily, Jin usually carries a heavy, cinder block and rope, so he can tie the corpse's feet together when dumping the body in water.

We don't always dump the body here. There are different places we use. This one so happened to be the closest.

"His last words?" I ask, popping one eye open when I turn to him when the chilly night air blows over.

"The usual: I'll see you in Hell," he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He always burns our clothes afterward.

I walk to the back of the car, pulling off the restaurant uniform and putting on some different clothes to slip on for the ride to the motel. When I'm finished, we switch places.

"I tried giving you as much time as I could at the restaurant, but a commotion started when they found an unconscious girl in the bathroom, then I had to send the signal." He grabs his clothes and tosses them into the back. "You better be lucky I was there." He says cockily, calling from the back of the car while I face the other direction. "You would've been in trouble without me—"

"And you better be glad I was there for the past few missions we've been on. You would've gotten your brains blown out if not for me." I snap.

There's a moment of pause.

"Point taken," he slams the trunk, and I climb into the passenger seat. "But can we both agree that without each other, we would be dead by now?" He walks to the driver's side and opens the door.

He's wearing old blue jeans and a black jacket without a shirt underneath. He zips up the jacket and pulls the hood over his head to hide the blood left on his face.

"At least that much?" His cheeks are a little red from the chilly air, and his lips are a matching color although the foreign blood matches the shade, too.

"Okay, you're right. Without each other, we'd be long dead. I'm glad you're my partner." After I say this, he does a small, happy dance in his seat, then cranks the engine.

He doesn't say anything but has a wide grin.

"Thanks," he finally mumbles. "I wouldn't want any other partner but you, too."

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