I glare at him.

He glares at me.

I jerk my body forward to make it look like I'm gonna kill him.

He stays in the exact same place, unaffected. 

I cross my arms and huff. I'm not backing down. 

He crosses his arms, as if he were mocking me. Okay, he is mocking me. 

"Why can't we just take my car!" I complain while standing beside it.

He stands in the driveway beside his. He says dryly, "Because."

"Because, why?" I question. "Did I miss the vote where I elected you mayor?"

He rolls his eyes. 

"Because, Azalea," he says my name as if it were an insult. I wonder if he'd still say it what way if I stuck my boot all the way up his- "I've done this kind of shit several times. I know where to park, so we won't be in any cameras.

I roll my eyes, "Michael is obviously gonna tell my dad I stopped by. So what's it matter if we're on camera?"

"It matters if I'm on camera," he clarifies. "Your father knows my face. Michael doesn't."

Whatever. I give up and walk over to his car.

With the sky dark, we started driving toward the warehouse Michael is supposed to be at. I haven't really thought of a lie as to why I'm gonna show up, but I'm sure I'll come up with one once I'm there. 

Today, I felt better. As if I had the sunshine inside of me back. Yesterday, I felt odd. Different. But today, I woke up with a smile again.

And I think that it has something to do with Reese's words to me yesterday. 

We park in the same parking lot as last time, and cold wind blows as we step out of the car. I cross my arms together as we meet each other in front of the car, and start walking toward the warehouse.

"Don't ask any stupid questions," Alec says to me with his usual empty-eyed murderous look. "Just stuff about the security. And bring it up in a natural way."

The gravel crunches beneath our feet as we start crossing the road. I cross my arms and look up at him as we walk, "You know, your attitude is horrible."

"Is it?"

"Yea. You're like a dried-up sponge that's been forgotten under the kitchen sink for 3 years and has started turning moldy."

He looks at me with lowered eyebrows. And then he flicks my forehead.

"Hey! You piece of sh- Hey, Michael!" I cut my sentence off and smile as we reached the fence. Fog came out of my mouth as I talked, but evaporated quickly into the air as if it had never even existed.

From the other side of the fence, Michael gives me a confused look and drops his clipboard down beside him.

"Hey there, Azalea. What are you doing here?" he steps toward the fence and asks. 

Time to pull a lie out of my butt.

"I was in the neighborhood and really needed to use the bathroom!" I start shifting back and forth to make it look as if I were trying to hold it in. 

He very quickly pressed a button on the wall, which made the fence begin to slide. He gestures inside, "Oh, come on in, dear."

I smile at him. Even though I'm lying, I super appreciate it. 

I follow him through the cold air and into the building. When I enter, my jaw drops. The ceiling looks like it's miles away. Workers completely fill the building, with there being at least 50 people here. I had absolutely no idea what they were doing, but they all looked super busy.

My feet press against the grey floor as we walk further into the warehouse. Michael guides us, but looks over his shoulder and asks, "So, who's this?"

"Oh, this is my cousin. He's from Argentina. He's here because he committed tax fraud there and owes the government 5 million dollars," I lie to try and get back at him for being mean. "He doesn't know any English."

"Ah, hola amigo," Michael nods at Alec.

Somehow, Alec's look of constantly wanting to murder somebody got even meaner. He mumbles, "Me English bad."

We reach the bathroom, and I give Alec a look. Even though my eyes can't talk, if they could, they'd be saying 'look at the keys on his waistline and snatch 'em if you see ones.'

I think he catches my drift since he nods.

"Thank you again!" I say cheerfully before entering the bathroom.

Since I don't actually have to pee, I just walk in circles for a while. Play with the bracelet on my wrist, and start trying to list off every single country I can think of. Then after a couple of minutes, I step outside.

"Let me show you guys out," he nods at us.

I walk beside Alec, a step behind Michael. Since Michael's back is facing us, I give a 'did you get it?' look to Alec.

He nods.

"So, my shift today was so boring," I try to bring up the topic of security. "Has anything interesting ever happened there, Michael?"

"Interesting?" he repeats. "We've got some pretty interesting information out of people, yea."

"No, I mean like, has anybody ever escaped or anything?"

He laughs, "No. The security system is really good there. If a person's chains get unlocked, an alarm goes off. And when that alarm goes off, all doors get locked from the inside, and the 10 security guards outside are to rush in and shoot the person dead."

Oh. Not the answer I was hoping for. 

We reach the door to leave, and I look around one more time. The people look like they're working so hard.

"Wow. These people must get paid a lot of money," I observe.

Michael shakes his head, "Nope. Not at all, actually. They get 7 dollars an hour."

"What?!" I almost gasp. Every single person is working so hard that even though it's freezing outside, their shirts are covered in sweat. "Why?"

"Well, they're nearly all illegals. Can't exactly work anywhere else," Michael shrugs.

My jaw is basically on the floor at this point.

"But that's exploitive," I argue. "They're working their asses off - whether they're illegal or not, they should still be getting paid a fair wage."

He raises his arms up in the air in a defensive motion, "Hey, I don't assign the prices. Your father does. I just enforce them."

Hearing that my dad not only willingly pays them so little, but chooses to, makes a sick feeling form in my stomach. 

With nothing left to say, I cross my arms and mumble a goodbye. 

We set back out into the cold night, but I'm too angry to even focus. Alec complains from beside me, "Your cousin? From Argentina?"

I ignore him, basically zoning out as I cross the road.

But as I get halfway, Alec suddenly yells my name and grabs me. He jerks me forward, nearly making me fall, but it makes me avoid being hit by the car I didn't even see coming.

My breathing is heavy as I watch it drive away.

"Thank you," I say sincerely to him.

He just stares at me for a moment before shrugging, "Whatever, kid."

We reach his car, and get inside.  

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

~ Reese POV ~

I don't even know how many days I've been down here for now. 

At first, I was counting. But then the days quickly started blurring together.

Time has passed a little faster than I imagined, thanks to a short blonde. I glance down at the bracelet on my wrist, and smile to myself. 

In my life, I've met a lot of people. Tens of thousands. I've met people from nearly every single country in the entire world. And none have ever stood out to me.

Besides Azalea.

The amount of light in her is refreshing, especially considering she not only comes from darkness, but lives in it. In the world that I live in, it's rare to find somebody with a soul. With compassion. With a pure heart.

Fuck, is she pure. The absolute worse things that she has ever seen, are the best things that I have. She's not like me. She's good, made of fucking gold.

And I knew, that if I kissed her, I'd taint her. 

I've been killing ever since I was born. Never once in my entire life have I ever hesitated to kill somebody. I've killed parents with children. I've killed young adults with their entire lives ahead of them. I've killed, just to spill blood. 

If you cut my veins, I wouldn't be surprised if I bled black. I'm the exact thing that people fear. Merciless. Heartless. Cruel. I have absolutely no morals and make it rain blood wherever I go. 

But God, do I want to taint her. 

I want to kiss her. Taste her lips while I bury my hand in her hair. No, fuck her hair. I want to bury my face in her so hard that I can't even fucking breathe.

My balls tighten in my pants at the thought. I lean my elbows against my knees and bow my head, trying to get these thoughts out of my head. 

I'm the definition of evil, wanting to touch the girl that's the definition of good. 

But she has morals. She values people's lives. She wants to help me get out of here, even though I don't deserve it. 

Morals. God, do I fucking hate morals. They're all bullshit, constantly changing and adapting for no reason other than humans are fucking stupid. 100 years ago, some of the most disgusting and vile shit was not only legal, but seen as fine. Nobody had a problem with it.

A 14 year old girl would be sent off to marry a 70 year old man and nobody would even bat an eye. And nothing has fucking changed biologically about us since then. We still have the same brains. We still have the same arms. We still have the same legs.

But even though we were the same, it wasn't against peoples morals.

Do that shit now, and I'll put a bullet through your fucking brain.

But today, me being a killer is seen as bad. Because of morals. But the disgusting sick fucks who were doing horrible shit 100 years ago? Oh, they're fine.

Because morals are all fucking bullshit.

I bounce my foot up and down as I sit on the edge of this bed. I trust Alec like a brother. I know that he wouldn't let anything happen to Azalea. But I can't fucking help it, I still feel worry for her in my stomach.

God, I'm always fucking worried when I don't see her. 

The gun in the back of my waistline sits against my skin. I can't use it just when I get angry. I need to save it for the day I get out of here - because I know it's not going to be an easy fight. 

I trust Azalea to get me out of here. But if he can't, I will gladly let a bullet be shot through my head, than give up my brother's name and location. Good thing on the picture in my apartment that Joesph found of us, I was covering part of his face so they can't track him down.

I tug at the chains, even though I know that I won't be able to get out of them. 

Azalea hasn't come to see me yet. And it's been a couple of hours since they brought in dinner, so I know that it's late. I didn't touch it. I'd never touch food brought in by someone that wasn't Azalea.

I know that it's around 12 am. And I rake my hand through my black hair anxiously, wondering why she hasn't come to see me. Wondering if she's okay. Wondering who I need to kill if she isn't.

And when I hear the door finally open, it feels harmonic. I raise to my feet so fast and look to see her pretty face walk in.

But my face drops to anger seeing that it's a worker, and not Azalea. But then I start worry again. Is he here because something happened to her?

"Reese Ricci," the guy says my name bitterly. He looks me up and down, and steps until his toes hit the white line. But he doesn't dare to go further. "You remember that man you killed in here the other day? Yea. That was my brother."

Okay. I don't give a shit.

The guy looks me up and down some more. It was nearly as if he was admiring me, since everybody involved in the murky waters of New York knew my name, but barely any got to see me. And if they did, most of the time, I'd end their lives.

"Been hearing about all the trouble you're causing...." he trails off for a moment. "Killing men left and right, even with those chains around your wrists. Won't give up the location, or speak at all for that matter."

He forces a smile onto his face. He paces around the room, and I watch him with a blank expression as he walks back and forth. He forces a fake laugh, "You know, the guys say you don't speak because you don't know English. But you know what I think?"

"I think it's fucking bullshit," he finishes.

My face doesn't show an ounce of emotion the entire time he talks.

I just tilt my head at him. 

"So you know what? This ends today," he spits bitterly. 

He pulls a gun out of his waistline and points it directly at my head. For a moment, I freeze. My hands are in front of me. I can't reach behind me for the gun, or else he'll shoot right away. Judging by the look on his face, it doesn't seem like it would surprise him for me to have a gun.

"On your knees," he orders me. But he repeats himself louder when I don't move. "I said on your fucking knees!"

His threatening tone echoes off of the walls.

And slowly, I get down on my knees. 

He presses the barrel of the gun so hard against my forehead that it damn near might break under the pressure. He stares down at me with nothing but hate.

"This is over. Fuck trying to get the location of your little brother out of you," he seethes. "I'm going to do everybody a favor, and just fucking kill you right now!"

I deserve death. Although I've tried to delay it as long as possible, with this guy nearly foaming at the mouth to kill me, I accept it. 

All of my money will go to my brother. He won't have to work a single day in his entire life.

He pushes the barrel of the gun even deeper into my forehead. Through clenched teeth, he speaks, "Three."

I shut my eyes.

"Two."

Everybody dies, after all. It's inevitable.

"One."

I hope Azalea remembers me. 

"Zero."

A noise happens. One that I was bracing for, to be a gunshot. So when it's not, my eyebrows lower.

I open my eyes. The guy still stands before me. But now, his gun is lowered, and his eyes are wide. A large stab wound to his neck seeps blood, spraying down onto the floor and soaking his shirt. He chokes on his own blood. He can't speak.

He collapses to the ground. The life that had just been in his eyes, was no longer there. But with him now on the floor, that's when I was able to see.

Azalea stood there. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes were wide. Her hands were stained red, and so was the knife in her hands. She drops the knife to the floor, the blade echoing off of the ground. 

I jump to my feet. I see the horror on her face. I want to take it off. I need to take it off.

"Azalea," I say in a soft tone, not wanting to scare her. I put both of my hands on the sides of her face, looking into her eyes. "Look at me - are you okay?"

My words make her move her eyes to meet mine. Fear, and some other emotions, circled in her light brown eyes.

She whispers, "I got the keys."

Word count: 2676