Chapter 23 - Reunion

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When something goes wrong in life just yell "plot twist!" And move on

"Luck! Hendrix!" I hear a bunch of shouting through my phone speaker. I pick it back up as Hendrix and I keep our heads low.

"Look now is a bad time. I have a bitch to deal with. I'll call you later," I whisper.

"No don't yo-" I cut off my phone and take a pair of scissors out of my shoe.

"If I kill him do we lose?" I ask Hendrix. He shakes his head and I take my scissors whipping it at the guy in the other car. It hits his arm making him drop the gun and swerve off the road.

"First place baby! WOOHOO!" Hendrix shouts. I cheer and scream. The car starts to slow down to around 170KM/H as we're about to reach the finish line. And we make it!

Hendrix hits the brakes once more and I immediately jolt forward again. "That one was just for fun," he winks and I show him my middle finger.

I open the door, stepping out the car and falling over onto the ground. I hear Hendrix laugh as he jogs over and helps me up. "Took me a while to get used to that," he says. A bunch of people surround us including girls flirting with Hendrix. I'm surprised he doesn't have a girlfriend yet.

"Good job man," Chase and Hendrix bro-hug. Chase turns to me as the others congratulate Hendrix.

"What no good job man to me. You know I threw a pair of scissors at the shooter," I joke. Chase stands there with a serious expression on his face. Dude needs to learn how to loosen up sometimes. He's going to get wrinkles.

"What the fuck were you thinking," Chase asks. I begin walking away over to where there are less people.

"I was thinking about having fun. And by the way I had the time of my life," I point out.

"Almost getting killed," he says.

"Yeah! By almost getting killed," I repeat in a more uplifting tone. Chase rolls his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands.

"What the fuck is wrong with you," he now screams at me. I roll my eyes not wanting to deal with his outburst.

"What isn't," I say calmly.

"What?" He says.

"What isn't wrong with me," I laugh.

"What the hell is wrong with you," a man cries out. I laugh wickedly twirling my favourite knife around in my hand. "This could all be so simple," I smirk, stabbing his thigh. Hearing him cry out in pain is like music to my ears. "But you want to play dumb," I glide the knife under his chin so he faces me. "Talk," I demand. He shakes his head looking away.

Like that'll stop me. I run the knife down his shirt, slicing it open. Perks of having a knife freshly sharpened. "Which organ do you think I should take out first," I ask, gliding the knife around his chest. "Heart," I poke his left pectoral with the knife just enough for him to bleed a little. "Liver," I drag the knife down. "Dick," I smirk looking at him.

"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you just don't hurt me," he shouts. He's getting killed either way. Might as well get the information from him. "Okay. Information in exchange for freedom," I tell him. I throw my knife behind me but check my back pocket to make sure I have my gun. The sooner he confesses the sooner he dies.

•••

"Honey I'm home!" I yell waking into my house. Yes, my house. We had to cut the visit short because my parents wanted me back home. They guys agreed to come even though I don't live in a huge mansion.

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