Take Me Out

9 - What Goes Around

warnings: mentions of murder, angst, a little fluff, bad/neglectful parenting, choking

***

What Jake didn't know about your trip to Denver, was the fact that you actually collected 300 grand, and that you only kept 50,000 of it in your townhouse. You knew that sooner or later, Jake would try to find out about your finances, how you lived 'lavishly' in between your hits. The rest of the money from your hit, most of it actually, went into a private savings fund under your real name, which was decidedly not Y/N Reed, but Jake was none the wiser.

Tom, however, is freaking out as the pair of you leave Jake's place, because that is all the money he has. You feel bad, but keep a gentle hand on his thigh, trying to reassure him that everything will be okay.

You insist he drops you back off at your place, telling him to pick you up tomorrow, that you have some business to take care of. Which is true, but when Tom cups your chin and turns you to him, kissing you softly, you want to jump into his arms and tell him to join you.

"We'll figure it out," Tom smiles, "we'll figure it out," he repeats, his eyebrow twitching before he says it again, "we'll figure it out, together."

"Together," you nod, opening your door.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," you agree, waving to Tom as he pulls away.

As soon as you're inside, you grab your laptop and open up a secure browser, logging into your bank's website.

Your balance stands the same as it always has, 500,000 dollars in savings, 200,000 in checking. You dial the bank up, leaning back in your desk chair as the line rings.

"Hi, Y/N Y/L/N here, I was wondering if I could come in and make quite a large withdrawal from an account later today."

"How much are you thinking, Miss Y/L/N?" the bank teller on the other end asks.

"If I could get 10,000 today, and withdraw 90,000 at some point in the near future at your convenience."

"May I ask what you are doing with such a large sum of money?"

You roll your eyes at the question, anytime they caught wind of someone with money, bank tellers always want to know their business.

"I'm going to be purchasing some real estate, and the seller prefers to deal in cash. It's no big deal if you can't, I could always switch my accounts to Bank of-,"

"No, it's not a big deal at all, we can have the 10,000 ready for you today, and 90,000 by Wednesday. Is that alright?"

There it is, they also love rushing to help rich people if they threaten to switch banks, "That's perfect. I'll see you in thirty minutes."

You cover up your bruises with the best foundation that you own, the one that you use to cover up any bruises you get during your hits. You slip on your nicest casual dress and grab some ridiculously expensive Chanel purse that Jake once bought for you.

You laugh lightly at the memory, running your fingers over the light blue material.

***

"Here, I got this for you," Jake says, holding out a black box with a blue bow toward you. You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically, taking the box and sitting on the bed, Jake sitting down next to you. His lips roam your neck as you untie the bow, opening the box and setting the top to the side.

"You know, if you wanted to get into my pants, all you have to do is ask," you joke as you take out the blue Chanel purse, a gold chain connecting both sides.