The Crown | myg

forty-three

"Yoongi," Kimoon says as he continues to rest his hands on the mystery figure's shoulders. "I'm sorry, but she's gone."

"No..." His voice trails off; Yoongi's voice. It's soft, gentle, almost apologetic in a way. "She can't be dead. Daehyun please."

As Yoongi says please, his voice cracks. The sound sends a chill through my whole body, and a single tear falls down my cheek. I don't wipe it away, though, I let it sit there as a reminder that even though me and Yoongi have our differences, he does care about me, though I know he'll never admit it.

"I'm so sorry," Daehyun says, his voice quiet, almost too quiet for me to hear. I watch as a single tear falls down his cheek and onto the dark concrete. How I could see it fall from this distance and in this poor lighting, I'll never know.

"I'm sorry," I whisper as I continue to watch from behind the treeline. The boys continue to move and interact with each other, their emptiness showing easily through their body language.

From behind me, I hear the faint sound of leaves rustling and I ignore it. But, after a few moments, the unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach grows to be much worse.

"You don't want to do that," I say, my voice just above but a mere whisper. I leave my words lingering in the open air for a few seconds, just in case no one is actually behind me and the feeling in the pit of my stomach was just inaccurate.

I hear a light shuffle in the grass behind me, signifying that someone was, in fact, behind me, and I wasn't imagining it.

"I'll tell you again," I add a tone of sternness to my voice. "You really don't want to do that."

There is one more shuffle from behind me, this one significantly closer than the last, and I wait a few seconds after hearing it before I know my target is in the perfect spot. In one swift movement, I spin myself around and grab the person behind me, his wrist caught in my strong grasp.

I lock eyes with him, the lighting from the headlights of the car is just enough for me to see the face of the person standing directly in front of me, he looks unfamiliar. I have no idea who could've called this hit on us

Tightening my grasp on his wrist, I throw his arm over his head and spin him around, my foot coming down to make harsh contact with the back of his knee, the low blow knocking him to his knees.

"Who do you work for?" I growl as I twist his arm further back. If this were a movie, there would be a bone crunching sound followed by the twist of his arm. I twist harder, a groan escaping the man's lips as he jolts a little from the pain.

"Go fuck yourself," he growls at me as he jolts his head back as an attempt to hurt me.

"Alright," I shrug his comment off as I reach into my holster and grab my gun. Pressing it to the back of his skull, I ask again, one more time, who he works for. "Tell me who you work for."

"What if I don't, princess?" He remarks. If I could see his face, I know I would see his smug grin. It's obvious that he thinks that calling me princess will get me to let him go; he thinks I'm weak. Clearly, he doesn't know who's dealing with.

Without saying another word, I let go of his arm, letting him think that I'm giving up and going to let him go without a scratch.

"My boss said you were a pussy," he chuckles.

"Sounds like you got some false information," I smirk as I track his movement as he begins to stand up. The moment he is standing again, I kick him in the back of the leg, knocking him to his knees once more. "You make me sick."

With those final words from my mouth, I squeeze the trigger to my gun and a bullet shoots through the back of his skull within seconds. His lifeless body hurdles to the ground, the sound of leaves crunching following quickly behind as he lands.

That's enough of that.