A Dangerous Captive (Completed)

23. Targets 2 & 3 pt. 2

Song - All The Good Girl Go To Hell - Billie Eilish

(edited)

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Adelaide

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No words exchanged.

I wrapped my hand over the lock, ready to leave when an eerily familiar sound rang through the entire building.

A gunshot.

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My head whipped around to Jaekyung, almost as if I needed confirmation that what I had heard was real and not a figment of my imagination.

From the surprise etched on face, it undoubtedly wasn't my imagination.

With quick precision I turned the lock and swung open the door. 

Hordes of people rushed through the tight hallway, in a hurry to leave the venue as fast as they could to protect their pretty little heads.

My hands went to my ears as a shrill scream filled the air.

With a deep breath, I pushed into the steady stream of people, fighting and pushing against the current toward the sound of the gunshot. 

I needed to know who died.

I needed to know who pulled the trigger.

I shouldered a bulky man and almost tripped over the foot of an old lady but the ever emerging door spurred me forward. 

In the chaos of it all, I slipped off a woman's gloves and slid them onto my hands. 

They would come in handy if I needed to touch a body. 

The police worked fast and I needed to work faster. 

I managed to spare a glance behind me, checking if Jaekyung was close behind but paused when I couldn't see her red mask or raven hair. 

I didn't linger on it.

Jaekyung would catch up later.

A few minutes passed before I finally made it to the entrance of the ballroom and was surprised to find it mostly empty, save for the dead body laying peacefully in the centre of the room and a man cowering on the floor next to it. 

Most people had already rushed out of the grand room already.

My heels rang through the room as I slowly sauntered to the dead body.

With my shoe, I turned his body over so that he was facing upwards. 

I almost gasped when I saw his wound, a gunshot wound to the head, just as we had planned.

It was the playboy of the Anson twins, the one that didn't have any children.

A cold hand wrapped around my ankle, forcing me to look down to see the other target crying all over my couture shoe. 

Pathetic.

"Please, help me," he cried, his voice breaking. 

I scoffed, fisting my hand in his hair and pulling him up, earning a shout of pain from him.

I pressed his back into my body and efficiently slid my knife out of it's holster, putting it against his neck.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

I felt his body tense up as he realized that I wasn't here to help him, not in the least.

A mixture of tears and snot were streaming down his face in rivulet.