Crash Landing [✓]

19

Chapter Nineteen | WHAT'S AN ADVENTURE WITHOUT PUSSY GALORE?

All parts of my body were restrained by firm, leather jeans, and a tank top underneath Milo's oversized, cargo jacket; my boobs apparently close to spilling through, showing a potential nip slip.

It wasn't my idea to be dressed like this by the way, but Martha had insisted, in order to get through our mission, I had to oblige. The mission required wearing fitting clothes, and these were the only pair of clothes which were tight enough to fitting, in comparison with loose items.

Oh, the mission? I was yet to disclose that.

I was currently repeating a mantra to myself, in order to accomplish a steady heartbeat, a rhythmic pulse and overall, calm composure.

You. Can. Fucking. Do. This. Bitch.

Anyone would have been behaving the same way, due to circumstantial situations.

Here we were, seated in a black van, outside the back entrance of the building in which Julian Hardy probably was, threatening to shave an old man's hair off, or ready to piss on an old lady.

When I said we, the people I was referring to were: Milo, Blake, Betty and I. An unusual combination of people, sure. But compatible nonetheless in regards to this mission.

There was no way a S.W.A.T team could tackle Julian Hardy, while also saving the innocent people stuck inside with him. But there was also no way in hell, anyone was willing to let Milo go.

Certainly not me, though it was my genius idea at first.

The van's interior was plush, rich and complete with a tech-savvy touch which undeniably attracted Betty's attention. Betty believe it or not, minored in Computers in College alongside a Major in Arts. Hence she was so fascinated by the small computer system which powered the Van. My best friend was full of surprises.

Which probably begged the question of: why was she here? And why on earth was Blake here too? What were we all doing here in fact? Wherever here was. Wasn't my idea to make sure no one got hurt? What business did we have with Julian Hardy.

We were here to give him what he wanted so sorely.

Milo Delgard.

All while saving the people in there, and putting him down.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Milo finally said, breaking the silence, glancing at Blake and Betty from the rear-view mirror.

He kept asking the same questions. He didn't want any of us to be put at risk, which was sweet, because it was clear he'd taken a liking to my friends and wanted them to be safe, for my sake at least. Especially since I was still strung up over Toffee's death.

Betty nodded her head vigorously, elbowing an unimpressed Blake who had only come along to keep her out of trouble.

"This plan sucks balls, the guy isn't stupid," Blake muttered, slapping his hands against his legs. "Who's to say when you walk in there, all the people he's probably holding hostage are already dead, he shoots you and then Adeline too?"