[37] 三十七

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What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?

I stared down at the mask, frozen in shock. Surely this was an artifact collected from somewhere else, not specific to the people who tried to kill Ryuzo. Maybe it was a character I didn't know, or a culture reference I was ignorant to? Anything sounded better than Ori trying to kill Ryuzo.

Five million thoughts ran through my head while I danced on the edge of panic. But when I defaulted to fight or flight, I chose both.

Grabbing the gun from the drawer — a Glock-style pistol almost identical to the one hidden in my suitcase — I checked to see if it was loaded, then tucked it into the back of my pants. My brain was on autopilot while I threw my loose items back into the case. Nothing folded, nothing organized. I planned to disappear before he got back. Contacting my agent would have to come once I was out.

I snapped the zipper's lock closed and grabbed the cats' carrier. "Susu, Jiji," I called to them in a voice as calm as I could muster. "We're leaving again." They meowed in protest, pacing around each other. "Please don't fight me. We have to go. Get in."

Finally, they obeyed. The second they were inside, I heard the front door.

A chill crept up my spine. My heart pounded in my ears. Maybe I could convince him to let me leave without knowing what I found. Maybe I could just walk out.

I came out of the room with my bags, watching the casual way Ori hung up his coat and took off his shoes. When he turned and saw me, he smiled. "Hey! Oh . . ." His voice and smile lost their shine when he saw my bags. "Why do you have your things?"

"They, uh . . ." I swallowed my fear. "My apartment is fixed. I'm . . . I'm going to go back."

He tilted his head in confusion. "Did you want me to take you?"

"No, it's fine."

The wrinkle in his brow deepened. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I said shortly. He stepped closer, and I reached behind me, touching the gun. "Don't."

"Mina, what is wrong? You seem off. You're worrying me."

"I'm fine. I just need to leave. Let me leave."

His expression melted, as if he knew. "Is this about last night? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Let me make it better."

He reached for me, and I pulled the gun, pointing it at him.

His eyes widened, and he stumbled back, tripping over himself and falling onto the floor. He held a hand out as if it would stop me. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Mina, what are you doing?"

"Don't fucking move!" I yelled, holding the gun with both hands to hide how hard my hands were shaking.

"Mina, what the hell is happening?" His voice was tight, fear marring his face.

"Why do you have that mask?!"

"M-m-mask?"

"Don't fuck with me, Ori! Why do you have that fucking leather mask in your drawer?!"

His face paled and his posture relaxed. "Shit," he whispered.

He knew exactly what I was talking about. I stepped closer and his hands went back up.

"Don't! Mina, please! It's not what you think!"

"Then how did you get the mask?"

"Mina, please don't shoot me." Tears filled his eyes. "I didn't hurt him, I swear. I swear!"

Dirty, Dirty Liars [Mature/Editing]Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt