Trigger FingerA Story by Ruminating ArchaeologistI scuff the ground with my shoe and then draw the gun from my hoodie. I point the barrel directly at the taller one's head, and grin when they flinch. "Just hand over the money, and no one gets hurt."
"Here's your tea."
Rose took the cup from me with a smile and a thank-you. I gave her a tight-lipped, nervous smile in return. She finished the tea quickly and then settled back into her sheets. Her hand lifted up to fiddle with the metal cross around my neck. She wrapped the chain around her finger for a moment, smiling lazily, her eyes already drooping. Her fingers fell from my neck to my lap. "You wear too much black, dear." She let out a quiet giggle. I chuckled back. She hummed and closed her eyes. "Gosh…am I tired." Another giggle. "You…uh, didn't drug my tea…did you?" Rose chuckled again. My smile faded and I tucked her hair behind her ears. "I love you, Rose." She hummed. I waited fifteen more minutes, to be sure that she was sound asleep, before kissing her on the temple and leaving. "I'm sorry, Rose. But I had to." It's cold and damp out and I hate it. I walk a little faster toward the park, My hands shoved into the pocket of my hoodie, concealed, concealing. When I arrive, they're already there with several duffle bags, dressed all up in black. I laugh and saunter over to them. "What is this, the gothic party? Oh right, first rule of fight club: don't talk about fight club. My bad." "Stop it with the crap, 'Noir.'" The tallest one spits at my feet, just barely missing my Outfitters hiking boots. "Where are you from, the Roaring Twenties?" I scowl. "You shut it, creature." I shift my weight from one foot to the other, flexing my fingers a little. "I'm just here to acquire what I came for." The one leaning against the tree nudges the tall one and stands up straighter. "About that. We might have to…work around some things." I let my gaze ice over. "What things?" The tall one shivers and folds his hands. "Nothing…too…troublesome, but-" "But what?" I grin, chuckling darkly, and duck my head down for a second. I scuff the ground with my shoe and then draw the gun from my hoodie. I point the barrel directly at the taller one's head, and grin when they flinch. "Just hand over the money, and no one gets hurt." I play too many dangerous games. The gun isn't loaded, but these two nimrods don't know that. It's all about confidence. All about playing the role, acting the part, and pretending you're a bad a*s. "Hands up, where I can see them." I command. I love how these losers are afraid of me. Maybe I'm stupid for enjoying that, but come on, it's hilarious. "I-it's in those duffels. All of it." The one closest to the tree speaks. "Open it. Slowly." He bends down, and unzips the first duffle. Green. Cold, hard, cash. Money. Lots of it. I make him check the next one, and then make him stand next to his partner. "Now…you're going to tell me why you have this cash…and who sent you." I smile wickedly. "Creature. Care to explain?" It's beginning to rain, and the tall one's fire red hair is beginning to frizz like you wouldn't believe. It's highly amusing. "We don't know." He says. "Bull." I hiss through my teeth. "You must know something." "We were paid half of one of those duffels if we gave you the cash. It was an anonymous phone call. We tried to trace it, but…we don't know much about technological crap, and this guy or whoever, he had to be uber smart or something." "How do you figure?" "All the encryption and passwords and places he had us go just to get these duffels." "Mind giving me the addresses?" "When we agreed and went to get the cash, we were given a pre-pay cell phone in which we got the addresses from. The phone was deactivated a minute or so after we found the duffels." I hummed. "Where'd you get the duffels from?" "Back alley of Vinni's Pizza." I groaned. "I bet that was so tough to locate." "You have no idea." I rolled my eyes. "Look. Get your skinny selves out of here, and never speak of this to anyone. Ever. I would hope that I am understood." I moved the gun to the one closest to the tree. "Right, creature?" He nods vigorously. "Now…" I slowly lower the gun, my finger still resting against the trigger. "Get." © 2012 Ruminating ArchaeologistAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorRuminating ArchaeologistParadoxical Cerebrum, INAboutSince 8th grade, I've been writing and I honestly can say I've improved. My deviant art account is normally where I'm stationed, and I use it frequently. I also have a fanfiction.net account, and I'm .. more..Writing
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