On Contract • Lashton AU

Part Eighteen

Luke avoided all eye contact as he spoke up. He knew he wasn't going to get an answer he liked.
"So, when do I go home?"
He waited what seemed like minutes for an answer.
"You don't," Ashton replied, almost coldly.
"And what happens if I just leave?" Luke was surprised at how little nervousness showed in his voice now.
"Let me paint a picture for you... You go home, things go great. You go back to work, and things go fine. Then someone figures out that you aren't actually dead and they come after you. But they don't give you three days. They don't put a roof over your head - they'll slaughter you in seconds."
Could Ashton be telling the truth? He could be lying for any number of reasons...
Hemmings was almost concerned at how calm he felt. Yes, he was nervous and yes, there was an undeniable hint of anxiety eating away at him - But there was very little more. His thoughts were still clouded, as was his judgement and drink, but it seemed okay... He had every right to be fearful and concerned, but he wasn't. Not to the extent perhaps he should be.
Luke didn't speak again after that. He had no words left for Ashton.
Ashton, almost sensing this, stood and walked into the kitchen. For a reason unknown to Luke, if there even was a reason, Ashton left his gun on the coffee table. It was easily within Luke's reach, if he wanted to take it.
Ashton didn't even look back over his shoulder as he began to boil the kettle, clearly making a drink for himself.
This could be Luke's chance... But it had come so early...
This could be his ticket out.