A Bullet Or Two

Chapter 1.4

A bullet to the thigh was not a part of the job description Baron supplied. Delilah had spent the entirety of the train journey back to the capital scrutinizing every possible reaction he may have and involuntarily drove herself insane. It was just a minor injury. Nothing fatal. Yet, it was also something that could have garnered too much attention. She was relieved that Jonnie had not scolded her, merely offered her a sad smile, and carried all the bags to the station.

The journey took no more than an hour. East City had tracks leading out to almost all nearby towns, direct routes that required no engine changes. Heavy smoke and the smell of soot alerted her of their arrival.

Upon meeting Baron in his townhouse in the centre of Orchard Boulevard, Delilah's breathing was uncontrollable, like she had run the three miles from the station. Sweat had coated her in a fine sheen, and her skirts felt sticky in the cool afternoon air. Jonnie did all the talking, he explained how the gunsmith had gotten too grabby and needed to be put in line. Her step-father looked none too pleased, occasionally glancing at Delilah, his features too calm and measured. She wanted to move, to run before his exterior boiled into unforgiving anger. The itching in her finger had been unbearable, Daryll's hands on her thighs too violating, and she didn't think to stop when she pulled the trigger tight.

Baron's eyes lingered. Jonnie had stopped speaking and nudged himself in front of Delilah.

Her cheek began to burn, remembering the sting of Baron's hand against her cheek the last time she had blundered a job. As much as she tried, she could not meet his eye.

"Jonathan, you may leave." Baron's voice was void of any warmth. His eyes were cold as they seared at her.

Dismissed. She did not expect Jonathan to be dismissed over her. Baron was always so unreadable, so calculating in his movements, that she did not know if this was a good sign. Her eyes flicked to Jonnie who stood tall before her, his head turned to the side so he could see her. He nodded. A sign that it was okay. He hurried out of the room, not turning back for a second as he left her behind.

---

Baron was a few inches shorter than Jonnie yet he was still inches above her.

Every assignment he gave her was a test. Ones preparing her to replace him, something Delilah had picked up on after the second or third job when he had debriefed her and explained how what she learned on her ventures would benefit her one day. Like usual, the old man turned and strode back to his desk, positioning himself in his leather seat. Delilah waited a few seconds before joining him in the chair opposite, curling her back as she sunk into the seat.

"What happened to your progress?" There were no congratulations in his debriefs anymore. Only disdain and disappointment.

It was the first job since Mitsby, the first where she had no gun.

"Nothing happened...I did not mean to...I..."

"Did you drink? In the name of Saol, I can smell the ale on you."

Saol. The Goddess of Life. He cursed in her name not often, however, when he did – Delilah hated to think what he would do next. She couldn't bring herself to answer. She could not admit that she had or that she encouraged Jonnie alongside her. Muscles tensed in her arms, and she waited for his hit. 

Yet it did not come...and Baron said nothing more. His previous neutral demeanor had disappeared, leaving him to scrub at his face in frustration. She should have thought better, it was too soon for her to drink, too soon for her to do a job like that again.

"No more jobs like that," Delilah whispered, cultivating an ounce of courage buried far behind her worries. "What?" Baron was stern, cold. "No more jobs like that." She spoke louder, firmer. He furrowed his brows, ready to object. "No more." Delilah wasn't asking. She stilled her own face and straightened her back. Baron looked at her, a guard examining his prisoner. Swallowing hard, she knew she was pushing outside her boundaries, risking her courage within Baron's cruel grasp. Baron leaned back, his jacket ruffling against the leather. "No more", he replied.