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* TW: mental illness, murder, sex. Damn, this is one long ass Christmas party isn't it?

The back of your thigh still hurt like a bitch, throbbing with each hobbled step you took. But at least it wasn't bleeding anymore. You'd live. Hans kept an arm wrapped around your waist as he led you back towards the main office, pushing the door open with his free hand. His men were still busy with working to locate McClain and keep the police outside of the building. It was just the two of you.

You limped, bending your knee as you moved to lean up against the wall near the large glass windows overlooking the parking lot. Hans took a seat at the desk and gripped his walkie talkie, clicking it on as he brought it up to his lips.

"Theo, progress. How much longer do we have?"

You brushed a hand through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

The talkie buzzed as a voice came through the other end. "Hour, two hours tops. The ball will be rollin'. Trust me. I just need a little longer."

Hans sighed, leaning back in the leather chair and slowly twirling around to face where you stood.

"Hurry up. We're working on borrowed time already."

He sounded slightly flustered, eyes narrow and brows pulled together as he clicked the talkie and sat it back down on the desk. His gaze landed on your frame, and you could feel him so clearly eyeing you. But it wasn't out of lust. There was something different about his stare this time.

"What?" You asked curiously, cocking a brow as you hid the tiny smile wanting to poke through your cool exterior.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, averting his eyes back over to the desk before slowly pushing himself up and onto his feet. Hans stepped closed to you, looking out of the large window as he stood beside your smaller frame. You had to admit, he knew how to be intimidating, and he did it very well. Even now, he still scared you a little bit.

His lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Have you always had such questionable taste in shags?"

"Would it boost your ego if I said you were the first?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Before he could manage to illicit a response, the talkie buzzed once more and immediately caught his attention. He whipped his head around and took two wide strides back over to the desk.

"Hans! We've got a problem."

His forehead wrinkled slightly with worry lines, picking up the walkie talkie and switching it on. You could tell just how on edge he seemed to be all of a sudden — shoulders strong and jaw clenched.

"Talk to me."

Another buzz and the voice on the other end continued, "they're attempting to breach the entrance."

Hans sighed and gave a roll of his eyes, feeling his own knees quivering slightly as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"DON'T LET THEM IN. That's an order."

The man on the other end buzzed in, voice raised slightly in subtle panic.

"They're approaching the rear..."

It was no wonder Hans was getting irritated at this point. His men always seemed to overcomplicate things. You didn't know much about heist procedure, in fact, you didn't know jack shit about any of this. What you did know, was there had been a significant change in Hans' demeanor and it was beginning to worry you.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jul 19, 2021 ⏰

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