What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

Trigger-happy

It didn't take long for several guards carrying AR-15 rifles to form a tightening circle around Red and Emory.

Despite being fully surrounded, Joseph continued to call for more backup through his radio, unaware of the fact that the numbers didn't matter to Red. They served no purpose other than contributing to a higher potential kill count.

Red didn't have much of a reaction at first, solely scanning the room and waiting impatiently as more guards continued to file out.

Even though they all carried guns, and Red was defenseless, his sharp gaze didn't falter as he looked back at the boss, whose lips twitched up as his eyes gleamed in excitement.

He watched the guards fall into place, taking a moment to admire his work before finally returning his gaze to Red's.

"This could have been prevented if you had just let Joseph take your little toy for a spin," He sighed, mocking a disappointed expression. "But you decided to threaten him instead. I thought you were smarter than that."

Red scoffed, growing visibly more irritated as the boss referred to Emory as his 'toy'.

Emory, on the other hand, completely lacked a reaction as he just stared at the ground, hands clenched by his sides in an attempt to keep them from trembling as he tried not to focus on the situation around him.

This is the exact outcome he had feared, and he didn't see a way out of it. He knew Red was a powerful, relentless man, but what could any human do in a situation like this?

All it takes is the pull of a trigger to kill someone, and considering they were surrounded by trained, armed guards, it wouldn't take much effort to do so.

"Elias, I assure you, you don't want to start this with me." Red's voice cut through Emory's thoughts, coming out calm and collected while carrying a firm tone nevertheless. He pulled Emory into a tighter embrace, his hardened grasp relaying his underlying frustration.

The boss merely laughed in response, convinced Red's words weren't a threat that required precaution. "Oh, Chandler, you must not know how to behave properly in the big leagues. You are nothing compared to me. It'd be best for you to come with me without struggle. I wouldn't want to kill my top donor."

Elias sighed, eyes raking over Emory with a calculating gaze. "Although for your pet," He paused, calling over one of the guards with a wave of his hand, "we can let him go to show just how high the stakes really are."

As the command was given, the guard raised his rifle, aligning the barrel with the middle of Emory's forehead as his finger inched closer to the trigger.

Before he could shoot, however, Red yanked Emory's arm, forcing Emory behind him, who was on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack as he pressed his head into Red's back, hoping that in doing so, everything around him would disappear.

"Now, now, Elias. Do call me Mr. Kipper." The guard paused, lowering his rifle slightly as his gaze snapped to Elias, who held an unreadable expression.

The boss cleared his throat to regain composure before speaking. "Kipper? As in... you couldn't mean Red Kipper, right?" He held a hand up, gesturing for the guard to completely lower his weapon.

"The only other person with that last name is going to be my dearest, right behind me," Red confirmed, taking out his phone and putting it up to his ear as he maintained eye contact with Elias, grin expanding as he watched the internal panic dancing within the boss. "Fall in, nobody leaves or enters, cover all exits. Ten men on me." He paused to take a glance around before his eyes landed on Elias once more. "Permission granted to kill anyone who stands in your way."