Assassin [H.S.]

Thirty One

Part TWO of this months update!!! Definitely one of my favs so far and more to come! I finished my second year and got my associates degree! YAYY!

Cant wait to update more this summer,
xo.

TW // weapons, blood

31
20:50pm (8:50pm)
Date: April 31st 2018
Location: Portland, Oregon

Harry Styles

After 10 minutes of a round of poker and a few more drinks, I've managed to keep my status on the low with the three stooges wasted in bourbon and dealing in anything in their pockets.

I've thrown in a couple of things there. Another wad of 1000 bucks, a watch and one of my rings. When I mostly get drunk with Carter or Cade, I bet on anything that's going to stock up their life's savings. This game teaches you a lot of things.

People are willing to fold their cards because of how high the stakes are. When in doubt, they're easily bluffing. I'm bluffing about my personal identity. The truth. they seem to be delusional. That's what's going to bite them in the dust.

"Oi, whatcha you betting now on, Danny?" Carl, the redheaded beard, asks him. His words become a bit slurry and his eye pupils have dilated much bigger.

Danny sips from his glass of bourbon, keeping his cards close to his chest then retrieving something from his pocket. "Just more money I got from today's check. I'm telling you.. my job is truly something I live for."

He places another stack of green in the center of the table, with all of our other contributions. Well, Danny boy, your job is something you might want to consider quitting in the next few minutes.

Carl takes a quick glance at his cards then bets in another hundred dollar bill. "Looks like you're gonna have to find a second job there, Danny. Benny, it's your turn. Add in or lose everything, buddy." He stifles a chuckle in his throat as Benny takes his eyes on and off from his cards to the stack of money raised from our pockets. He almost looks nervous, but collectively calm.

He definitely doesn't fold under pressure as a secret spy. We could definitely turn him over to SIDD with a little training and brainwashing, he'll be much better than what the rest of CASTA is doing.

As the boys continue to chatter in a conversation, I take a look at my watch lying in the pile of wealth. The big hand is about 10 minutes away from reaching 9 and I have to execute my targets sooner or later. However there's one more person missing that I need to kill as well.

The driver. Frankie Neuman. Yeah, that Frankie, who's chair I'm sitting in as I deal a round of poker.

What I've heard from some of the members at headquarters is that CASTA has a system of getaway drivers who are also trained agents as well. If he notices that his guys are dead from their little game night, he's gonna search for anything that'll give me away. So I have to patiently wait until he arrives, which he hasn't yet.

I assume that once he enters from the door I came in, he's gonna have one question on his mind.

"Alright gentlemen. The stakes are high and the cards have been dealt. Are y'all ready to play?" Carl says, leaning in closer to the table. We all nod in sync and Carl turns to Danny as he tells him his deck. Even though I am still undercover, I do live for these moments of playing games.

Better yet, I love to call their bluff.

Sloane Davenport

The warmth of his bare chest makes my stomach flip as I continue to lay on top of Mr. Laurier. Both of my legs are straddling onto his lower half; his body laid flat onto the soft silk bedding. His groans grow deeper while I plant a small kiss on the inside of his neck. I let my hands play on every part that's accessible; One hand is combing the back of his head and my other one gliding down his abdomen.