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𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍━━one
"Alright, let's get this done, quick and painless—you hear?" Luke Hemmings watched as his friend, Calum Hood, played with his favourite combat knife, a black Smith and Wesson. He twirled it between his fingers, not even looking at the sharp blade as he did so.
Michael Clifford, the other guy that was with them in the dark alley, cleared his throat, looking for some sort of response to what he had said. When neither Luke nor Calum said anything, the bleached blonde twenty four year old cocked his gun.
Calum looked at him sideways and feigned interest, "Yes sir." He said sarcastically and saluted Michael, and then began to play with his weapon of choice again. Luke could feel the tension in the air, and he swallowed hard before making sure he had everything he needed for the job they were about to do.
"You know what I just don't get though?" Calum started to say, an agitated tone in his voice. Michael looked up from his gun and then placed it behind his back in between his tight black jeans and dark blue underwear. He turned to Calum, chest out and shoulders back. "Yeah, what's that?"
"For two weeks now you've been acting all high and mighty, like you didn't start off at the bottom like we all did." Luke watched the two guys with weary eyes, it was nearly ten at night and he had to squint slightly to see in front of him, but he could make out their faces just enough to see that an argument was about to start.
"Guys, c'mon—not the time or the place." Luke reminded them and then took a nervous glance over his shoulder. They were alone in the narrow alleyway filled with trash cans and folded up cardboard boxes, but anyone walking by on the street at the end could hear them if they weren't careful enough.
"What, you don't like working under me?" Michael challenged, not listening to Luke's warning. Calum scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Who died and put you in charge?" Luke flinched at Calum's retort, who noticed and sent a sympathetic look back to his friend. Luke dismissed it with a single shake of his head.
"Luke's father, that's who."
Calum rolled his lips, knowing exactly what to say back to Michael to put him in his place, but stayed quiet for Luke's benefit. Michael nodded curtly, he knew he had won that round, but as soon as they got back to their warehouse Calum would start up again.
"Can we just go?" Luke breathed out, he didn't want to be here, nor did he have to, but like he had said—Michael was in charge now. It was a simple enough job, money in exchange for information, usually a two man thing but Michael was as paranoid as they came and insisted on the extra manpower in case something went wrong.
"Time?" Michael asked simply, taking his gun out before looking around at their surroundings. "Ten-oh-two." Calum told him, flicking his wrist to see the red numbers on his digital watch. "Shouldn't be long now." Michael told them and then moved his eyes towards the back door of the diner.
The light inside was still on and visible through the small window at the top of the door. They couldn't risk doing the swap out in the open and they didn't want the opposing group to know where their warehouse was, so they settled for the middle ground and set the meeting place to an old diner.
It was meant to close at 10pm and they would pick the lock to get inside, not caring how the other guys got themselves in. And just like clockwork, the lights went out. The three of them waited a few minutes to make sure that whoever had locked up had left and then Michael signalled that it was go time.
Easily enough, Luke picked the lock and they were inside. They made their way through the grungy kitchen and waited in the far corner of the diner. Calum was inside a booth, Luke was waiting at the kitchen door and Michael sat on top of the table that Calum was at.
"They're late." Luke commented impatiently. He hated waiting for people, even more when they were late. If you set a time—you better be there at that time. "They'll be here." Michael told him without looking at him; his eyes remained set on the front door.
When they heard the lock clicking, they all stood to attention, weapons at their sides. The door swung open and four large men dressed head to toe in black walked in. "Gents." Michael greeted, raising his head slightly.
Three of the four men stood in a straight line in the middle of the room, and the fourth was further back with a gun in his hand, his stance similar to Luke's. "We heard about your pops Hemmings, my condolences." The one said, tipping his head in Luke's direction.
Luke said nothing but became tense and clenched his jaw, news travels fast in their world. Michael cleared his throat and set a dark green duffel bag on the floor, "Got the cash, you have what we want?" The one who had spoken to Luke looked over at Michael, a smirk on his lips. "Straight to it then?"
Michael shrugged his shoulders, "Hey man, we don't want to be here any longer than we have to be." The guy raised his eyebrow but didn't say anything and then tipped his head to the side at the guy next to him, who then put his hand in his back pocket and with seeing that, Luke stepped forward immediately—gun raised.
"Woah woah woah, easy there tiger." The guy laughed nervously, bringing his hand back out in front of him. "Slowly." Luke warned him, finger already on the trigger. Calum had his knife at the ready on his hip, fingers itching to just throw it across the room.
The atmosphere in the diner shifted and everyone went tense. "Just grabbing the name for ya'." The second guy said, and then wrinkled the folded piece of paper in his hand. Michael furrowed his brows and asked, "You wrote it down?"
The first guy shrugged and took a step forward; Luke still had his gun at eye level and sent Calum a cautious look. Calum caught it from the corner of his eye and started to move along the room slowly, walking sideways with his knife in his hand.
The third guy did the same, his actions mirroring Calum's. By now, both doors were no longer guarded and at least two guns were pointed at each group. "No need for this to get messy." Michael told them, not sure if he was telling the other guys or his own.
The one who was holding the gun nodded and then smiled at them grimly, "Doesn't it always though?" And before anyone could say anything, the handle of the front door turned and everyone shifted their attention over to it. Guns were raised and nobody even took a breath as a young girl entered the diner, eyes to the ground.
"Who the fuck are you?" Michael yelled, suddenly wondering if this was the other group's way of distracting them so they could run off with the cash. The girl, who couldn't have been much older than eighteen, froze on the spot and looked up at the faces of the seven men who were all pointing guns at her.
