"Where's the fucking shipment?" I reiterated, losing what little patience I had left. He was cowering in the corner, with his back pressed against the walls coated with black paint. His lower lip trembled as he looked up at me, his eyes filled with fear.
"I ain't tellin' you nothin'," he replied, attempting to keep his voice even. He couldn't; his posture and his voice reflected that of a wounded dog. I refrained myself from kicking him in the stomach, and chose my next words carefully.
"I'll ask once more," I said softly, crouching down to where he was, "where is the shipment?"
"In hell. Where you belong, bitch," he spat, causing me to roll my eyes.
"Oh come on," I groaned exaggeratedly, "stop telling me things I already know! I want to know where you put the shipment, Chris."
"You gonna have to try a lot harder than this if you want any information outta me," he told me, arranging his face into a smirk.
"Okay," I shrugged, "you asked for it."
I turned around swiftly, kicking him in the stomach, digging my sharp heel into his flesh. He gasped out in pain, as he brought his hands to stop my shoe from impaling him. I smirked as I withdrew my foot, before sticking my heel into his leg, drawing blood this time. I reached forward, frowning slightly, as I took a tissue out of my pocket.
"Now look," I muttered, "my shoe's all dirty."
I cleaned the blood off of it carefully, before throwing the tissue onto his unmoving body.
"You know," I started to say, as I drew my gun, "people say being shot in the stomach is the most painful."
He grunted in response, turning over in attempt to protect himself. I sighed, before using my foot to turn him back, so that he was facing me.
"I want to try it. Let's run a little experiment," I smiled excitedly.
"You're crazy, bitch," he wheezed out, as I frowned at him again.
"I really don't like you calling me a dog," I pouted, before flicking the safety off. "Now is there anything you want to tell me?"
"Shoot me. I'm dead either way," he tried to shrug carelessly, but winced as the pain of his stomach cut in.
"True. But you can choose how. Head," I explained to him, brushing my gun against his forehead, "or stomach."
I then dug the barrel of my gun into his stomach, right where I had pierced his skin before, and he stared at me in shock.
"It's by the docks," he tried to gasp, his voice raspy from the pain.
"If your information is wrong," I breathed out, leaning in so I could whisper into his ear, "you'll wish I had shot you in the stomach."
YOU ARE READING
Bloody Hearts ✔️
Novela JuvenilShe's been raised to be heartless. He's been raised to be ruthless. She feels trapped. He feels tied down. She is broken. He is bloody. They aren't perfect. They're beautiful. - - Adrianna has been leading the "Black Cobra" gang since her fa...
