Destroy Me

18 // YOU'RE PLAYING BOND TOO HARD

ELIJAH GOT BACK INTO Hardy's van, he'd let us borrow it for the night as using Elijah's mother's car for a stakeout wasn't a good idea because Isiah would probably recognise it.

He dropped a pizza box on the seat in between us and slid in. 

"Phase one of the stakeout complete," Elijah told me. "I got half hawaiian for you and my half i barbecue chicken."

"Thanks," I smiled and grabbed one of the bottles of vanilla coke off of him. "So what are we going to do if he's meeting up with Jessie?"

"If he's meeting up with her then we need to start building a case," he explained. "Having that picture of Isiah in her house would have been our main point, but apples ruined that."

"His name is Peach," I sighed, "but continue."

"Once we're confident with the amount of evidence we've got, we go to Vince and Ken."

"What time is he supposed to be here?" I asked. 

"Like, nine," Elijah answered.

"What kind of self-respecting ass hole meets with another ass hole at that time of night?" I scoffed. "It's clearly too late to be having dinner, so what are they planning on doing?"

"Okay, I know we're doing some spy shit right now," Elijah muttered, "but he's probably just here to eat. I mean, it's not like he's actually planning on destroying people's lives. You're playing Bond too hard." 

I sighed and leaned against the seat as Elijah began eating his pizza. I checked the time and it was eight-twenty. I grabbed a slice and Elijah smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and took a bite. This pizza was better than anything you could find in my suburb. 

"Two truths and a lie," he said and I looked at him in confusion. "You know the game? Let's play it. You go first."

"Okay," I shrugged and put the slice back into the box. "I've broken three bones, my first word was cat and September is my favourite month."

"The lie is that you've broken three bones," Elijah told me. "You've only ever sprained anything. Your wrist when you were seven, you're ankle on you're tenth birthday and the other ankle on my eleventh birthday."

"How do you remember that?" I asked. 

"I just do," he smirked. "My turn. I have Brookes' name tattooed on my ass, I once smoked five cigarettes at the same time and I've shot someone before."

"What the hell?" I muttered. "Are they all lies? No, you've never shot anyone before."

"Wrong," he chuckled. "When I first got into military school, they were teaching us the handling and I must have been holding it wrong because it fired right in Hardy's nuts. I mean, it was a blank so he wasn't hurt too badly."

"Okay, well then the tattoo is a lie," I said. 

"Nope." he shook his head. "You know stick and poke? I lost a bet and that's what Brookes won. I can't believe you'd think I could smoke cigarettes. The only time I've ever touched the stuff was when I was fifteen, it was the first and last time I tried it."

"So weed is okay but tobacco isn't?" I scoffed. "You're such a role model."

"I know," he laughed. "Your turn."

"Wait, I don't have any," I told him. "You go again."

"That's not how the game goes," he frowned. 

"But I can't think of any that you don't already know," I whined.

"Fine," he huffed. "I was shoved in a dryer, I speak fluent German and I lost my virginity to Mona."