Sinfully Imperfect

61. The Last Pieces & When It All Comes To An End

"We had a deal!" The man shouted manically.

"Which YOU fucking broke!" The person in front of him yelled back with the same intensity. Their rage radiated for miles.

"It was a mistake, goddammit! I was drunk, for fuck's sake!" He plopped down on the chair in the stranded house. The chipped walls coming off, and the ceiling leaking. The warehouse was full of shit and shit only. Broken shards of tiles. Wooden floor, which had gaps between them. Spider webs and what not! However, that was the least of his concerns.

"Your one mistake destroyed everything, Ian!" The female continued stomping her foot on the paved ground. Her boots hitting the broken wooden floors every now and then. She frantically tugged at her hair. Her revenge would have been accomplished had it not been for this fucking idiot!

"I met Aylwin. He's finding you like a fucking maniac!" She spat the words, watching his eyes turn into darker shades of hostility.

"I'm leaving." She boldly declared, taking her coat and scarf and wrapping them around herself. She put on her big, round sunglasses, which covered most of her face.

"Wait-what do you mean by leaving? You can't leave me like this!" He clutched her arm painfully, emphasizing each word.

"Exactly. I won't leave you like this. Alive and breathing. You're a danger, and I certainly don't need one." She smirked, pulling out the gun from her coat and aiming it directly at him. The latter stumbled back, eyes widening, staring at her in betrayal. She cocked the gun as he snarled, "Don't you fucking dare!" He lunged at her, snatching the gun from her hand.

She punched his jaw, stomping her heels into his foot. The latter hissed in agony, giving her a harsh push and sending her to her butt on the ground. The wooden floor creaked beneath her, and her clothes stuck in the blunt gaps. She snarled, "Fucking bastard!"

They eyed the gun lying a few feet away on the ground. Her eyes fell on the shards of broken tiles strewn around. She hastily caught it, and just as he tried to reach the gun, she stabbed it into his leg. He groaned, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

She chuckled, proud of her sinister act. How she loved torturing. His bad. She gave him a chance at a less painful death. Scoffing, she crawled her way towards the gun. Her dress ripped in the process. The chillness of January whipping her flesh. Standing on her feet, she shot him in the arm and leg. Remorselessly. The faster she was done here, the better it would be.

Ian groaned as blood gushed out in a never-ending flow. "Fucking bitch!" He cursed at her, seeing her laugh at him sickly. A sweet smile plastered her face as she watched him struggle to stop the blood flow.

"Any last wishes, Santos?" She aimed the gun directly between his eyes. Ian wiggled on the floor, feeling weak. His eyes were getting droopy seconds after seconds.

Before she could press the trigger, a stinging pain in her neck pricked her. She hissed from the impact as the abode started to spin. The negligent dots of darkness obscured her vision, and soon enough, she was pulled into a deep slumber. 

The masked attacker carried her away as people in black suits surrounded them swiftly. The chaos transpired in an instant. Almost in a jiffy, the whole scene took a complete 180-degree turn. None expected. None known. No one saw this coming.

The whimpering Ian watched everything unfold. His body was getting numb seconds by seconds. He felt powerless. Helpless. Weak. And over all, pathetic. The men watched him. Intensely.

"What the fuck is going on!?" He exclaimed with all the remnant energy.

"Shh... easy there, tiger. I'd watch my tongue if I were you." The familiarity of the voice widened his eyes. Busted! The only notion that crossed his mind. Fuck! He cursed in his head. Repeatedly.