Red
Shoot First

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y O N E

Time stood still as we stared at one another in silence, his gaze subsequently pointed towards my gun and then landed back on my brown eyes, and mine mirrored his exactly.

“Did Daria hire you?” He asked finally, the surprise not lost in his voice.

I did a quick scan of the room around us, spying all of the bodies we took down together. “You think I would take down my own men?”

“Fuck!” He cussed loudly. “Valentino? CIA? FBI?” I shook my head, not daring to give him an actual answer in case he saw through the truth of it. “Then who?”

“I told you, I work alone.” I answered.

“What do you want with me?” He tightened his grip around the silver gun in his hand, ready to use it.

That question opened up an endless possibility answer. What did I want with Ace? I wanted him to lick me, to stick his tongue inside me and swirl it around until I combust. I wanted to feel his kiss against my clitoris, soft but rough. I wanted his hands on my breasts, teasing my nipples as I shattered around him, screaming out his name in the loudest possible volume.

But I also wanted to kill him in the most brutal way, make him suffer like his father made us suffer. I wanted to make my family proud by succeeding in the mission my father entrusted me with and finally avenge my mother’s death.

But beyond that, I wanted him to stay around. I think I would miss him if he wasn’t here. I would miss the excitement I felt whenever he walked into a room, I would miss the adrenaline he made rush through me whenever he gave me a threat or a sexual promise. I would miss his smell, it’s a clean smell, one of masculinity and violence. Like gunpowder and leather mixed with something sweet, like cookies.

But regardless of all of that, here I was, three feet away from putting a bullet-sized hole in his skull.

“Well? What the fuck do you want with me Red?” He demanded, aggressive in tone and nature. His grip around the gun tightened.

Shoot first, ask questions later.

Pull the trigger before they do.

I changed direction of my gun and pressed down on the trigger, letting the sharp impact of my shot knock me back ever so slightly. In the matter of seconds a 9mm, semi-rimless silver bullet broke through the air partials and landed cleanly just below Aces other shoulder.

Slowly his head looked down at his arm, an ever-growing patch of blood staining the white cotton of his dress shirt. He gritted his teeth together and used his nose to breathe through his pain.

“Ahh! What the fuck Red!” He hissed. “Why did you do that?” He yelled, clutching his bleeding arm.

“You pointed your gun at me.”

“You just shoot anyone that points a gun at you?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

My finger was ready again resting on the trigger, he fought through his pain and pounced on me.

Grabbing the arm I held my gun with first and holding it hostage behind my back.

He locked my body in place with his super strength, I couldn’t move or fight his hold. He pushed me down, bent over the table and held the gun against my temple, digging the cold metal into me painfully.

“Jesus! How do I get myself into this shit?” He complained, purely to himself as I lay dormant against the table. “This place is going to be swarming in ten minutes. I’m getting out of here and you’re coming with me, I’m far from done with you.” He spoke deeply right beside my ear, his voice full of threat and promise. It chilled me to my bone but heated up my core.

He grabbed his tie from the kitchen counter and restricted my hands with it. There was no leeway at all, he knew how to tie an inescapable knot, yet even tied up I was still at an advantage. He was injured. I could fight him if I really wanted to, possibly even take him down.

If I wanted to.

Why didn’t I want to? I watched him rummage through my kitchen cupboards in a rush, knocking food tins and boxes onto the floor.

“Did you want a snack?” I asked with amusement, his glare at me was poisonous.

He grabbed a dish towel and ripped it in half, spinning it around in his hands then he tugged my hair backwards, hard enough to tear the root from my scalp and tied the dish towel around my mouth, gagging me.

“I really don’t want to fucking hear your voice right now.” He bellowed in my face, the gust of wind from the impact of his words hit me like a truck.

He turned back around and continued looking through the kitchen cupboards and drawers.

He took out a bottle of vodka and slammed it down on the counter, then he started unbuttoning his shirt with bloody fingers. I watched him strip, my eyes as hungry as ever, just taking him in.

His skin had a smooth, glossy appearance like he took care of himself. Moisturised well, waxed the hairs away or just naturally beautiful. I liked it and I wanted to touch it, lick it and caress it until he squirmed.

He had an eight pack and bulging biceps, clearly in great shape. He had no visible tattoos, which disappointed me but it was obvious Ace believed his body was a temple, not to be doodled on.

Once he removed his shirt fully he placed it into his mouth and pulled off the sleeve, setting it down on the counter. Then he repeated his actions with the other sleeve.

Blood trickled down his arm and stained his flawless chest. The bullet hole looked nasty but intentionally shallow. He poured vodka over the wound and rubbed it into his hands then I watched as he swigged from the bottle before rolling one sleeve into a ball and placing it between his teeth.

He set his eyes upon mine, so much anger and pain. I was in the dog house for sure. He took a deep breath through his nose and placed his fingers inside the gash, wiggling around.

He bit down on the shirt to stop himself from making a single sound. On his third attempt he managed to pull out the bullet and place it down on the counter. Then he used the vodka again and tied the sleeve tightly around the wound.

He grasped my arm and dragged me to the bedroom, collecting up the first aid and sewing set that I used to fix him up.

He paced over to the window and pulled back the drapes slightly, spying the street left and right. Then he grabbed me once more and dragged me with him.

“We gotta leave now. You gotta car?” I didn’t answer, I couldn’t with my gag but I didn’t even attempt to mumble. “Doesn’t matter I’ll just steal one.”

He pulled me by my arm all the way down the stairs of my apartment and out of the door to the underground car park. I could feel the bruise forming where he was rough handling me.

His elbow smashed into a white Toyota and he pushed me in with force.

As he turned out onto the open road his eyes stayed focused on the mirror, checking the distance we left behind us.

“Get your head down, I swear to god if you die before I get my answers I’m going to be so fucking pissed.” I glanced in the back mirror, three black cars tailgated us. I slouched in my seat.

“Untie me” I mumbled inaudibly, he ignored me. “I can help!” I started moving in my seat, trying to force my hands free. Ace continued driving, not understanding or caring about what I said.

The car swerved a little as a bullet penetrated through the glass of the back window, fired from one of the following cars. More gunshots were fired, bullets flying in every direction.

“Okay.” He said sternly and grabbed my arms with his one free hand, forcing them round to his view. He untied me in seconds and I removed the gag from my mouth. “Take the wheel.” He ordered.

“You’re bossy when you’ve been fucked over.” I placed my hand on his thigh and moved it upwards towards his crotch. He froze in his seat and then shot me a warning glance.

“Don’t.” He said menacingly and climbed into the backseat while I climbed into the front seat and took control of the vehicle.

I had never actually been part of a car chase before, not as the driver anyway. It was quite exciting.

“Head north on Elm.” Ace instructed from the back.

I hit my foot on the gas, driving at top speed and maneuvering the small car around all of the other cars while Ace fired shots behind us.

“Aim for the wheels!” I shouted back at him.

“No, I want them dead.” He explained, firing bullets that were just bouncing back off their cars.

“They are all bullet proof, aim for the wheels!” I tried again, the small Toyota was becoming more and more wrecked, slowing us down considerably and the surrounding cars were getting closer and closer.

They managed to break through the front window and I shielded my face with my arms as the glass shattered and blasted towards me.

“Ace, the wheels!” I screeched.

“Will you shut up! I can’t concentrate!” He ordered, yet again not even attempting to land a hit on any of the approaching vehicles.

I slammed my foot on the break, one car swerved us completely and flew off the road side. Tumbling down the cliff and into a lake.

Ace flew forward so I grabbed his gun and stuck my head out of the window, firing a bullet into each of the front tires. As the car spun rapidly I burst the back two tires of both cars.

Two guys from each car left their vehicles and walked over to us slowly, both armed and ready to fight. I backed the car into them, crushing their bodies under my wheels.

Ace snatched his gun back, pulling open the sunroof and standing up, poking himself out.

“Drive.” He dished me yet another order and I pushed my foot down on the gas once again as he fired his bullets and the men dropped to the ground all around us.

Once the calm came he slipped back into the passenger seat and glared at me.

“Do you ever follow my fucking rules?”

I wanted to smile, my lips even twitched but I knew that would profoundly piss him off, so I just dropped the car down to a normal speed and focused on the road ahead.

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