Laurie stands outside her apartment building, lingering on the message on that napkin. A confession, maybe. But also a warning.
Stay safe, watch your back.
Climbing stairs to her apartment she notices something as she reaches her floor. Her 'welcome' mat shifted. She swallows before she digs into her bag, pulling out her Swiss Army knife, and the key for the door. Her spare key was supposed to be under that mat, and whoever took it opened her door and who knows what else.
Was this what the warning was? Damn it, I knew if I kept leaving the spare key under that tacky mat I'd get broken into...
Bravely, Laurie huffs up her chest before she unlocks her door and opens it wide. She jumps into her apartment, preparing for a fight. Instead, she noticed a curious little wrapped up paper bag with scotch taped bundle of flowers sitting there on her table. She suddenly remembers what the Anvil training told her to do; she cautiously examines her apartment. When she's satisfied with her search, she releases the tension in her shoulders and walks up to the table.
The next thing that Laurie is anxious about: that paper bag and those simple, but sweet flowers. Logically, she reasons that if this 'gift' was meant to hurt her it wouldn't be sitting there looking pretty. On the other hand, she only thought about one person who would do that for her. Frank.
Laurie's suspicions are correct as she fiddles with the bag and finds a note taped to it. It reads 'Laurie' in his recognizable handwriting. She takes the note from its tape, slightly tearing the layer of the paper bag. The piece of paper he used is folded only once, it's not a normal sized sheet of paper either. The small paper has something written under the fold. Opening it, her eyes read over his messy handwriting.
Shoot first, ask questions later. -F.C
Something about those choice of words churns an anxious knot in her stomach. She put it together pretty quickly.
He didn't just-
Laurie unwraps the bag and reaches inside, her fingers are met with the cold barrel of a handgun.
She gasps softly. "Son of a bitch-" She pulls out the handgun and her whole atmosphere changes.
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✞
"What's your name, sweetheart? Tell me your full name." He demanded.
Don't tell him. "Laurie Priest."
The Englishman scoffed and raised his eyebrow skeptically. "Really? You mean, you don't even have a middle name?!"
You don't have to tell him anything. "My parents didn't give me one. They liked just my name."
The man in the purple suit shrugged his shoulders before he handed Laurie a loaded desert eagle. "You ever shot a gun before?"
Laurie stammered. "Y-yes."
The man smiled at her slyly. "Laurie Priest, I want you to go into that convenience store, and I want you to rob it-"
"Why?" He didn't exclusively tell her not to ask, so she willed it.
"No questions!" He roared at her, she slightly cowers by averting her gaze. "I want you to do it so that you don't get seen. Cover your face."
Laurie didn't want to. "Okay." She confirmed as she grabbed her scarf and wrapped it tightly around her head, covering her face. She gripped onto the desert eagle and headed for the store.
She was about to carry out his next orders before he stopped her. "Wait, Laurie!"
At his command he willed her to move no further.
"If your life is threatened, kill whoever is inside, every one of them. Now go." The man dictated the fate of the people inside that convenience store if they chose to defend themselves.
God help them.
✞
Laurie's shaking hand drops the gun back into the bag, she sucks in her breath before wrapping the bag back up. Her hands hesitate.
Laurie can't believe he gave her a gun, her thoughts race. As angry, sad, and disappointed she is, she's well balanced with her logical and emotional thinking. On one hand, she's enraged that he would even put her in danger like this. On the other, she feels better knowing he cares enough to drop off a gun. Okay, so Laurie does believe this.
She held the bag on the table, her fingers twitch as she wants to hold it again. She knows it's bad to want to feel that gun within her grasp, but she wants to feel safe. It's the only way she'll feel it when he's not there for her anymore, it's the most he's ever done for her since before... Unwrapping the bag again, she's convincing herself that it's what Frank wants, obviously.
She takes the gun out and realizes that it's a Beretta 96, and that the paper bag is still heavy. With what seems to be the question until she dumps the contents on her cheap wooden table. It's three clips and a box of ammunition, Laurie's hands ghost over the bullets. Her hands do most of the work as she's filling the clip with the bullets. Then, she reloads her gun, pulling back the barrel to see she has one in the chamber. The safety is on, but when she clicks it off she's fixated by the weight of the handgun.
Laurie paces around her apartment with the Beretta in hand, until she decides to go to her bathroom. The space inside is small, the only things inside is a toilet, sink, shower, and a mirror. She stands in front of her mirror and watches her shaking hand, she contemplates whether or not she was still a decent shot. Laurie raises her Beretta to her reflection in the mirror, the target right in her sight.
She doesn't know what it says about her and the fact that she wants to pull the trigger, but when she puts down the gun she takes a deep breath. A flood of remorse goes through her as she remembers the last time she's held a gun, and suddenly she no longer feels the need to hold it anymore. Laurie clicks the safety back on, she thinks for a moment as she doesn't know where to store it in her almost empty apartment.
She decides that her purse would have to suffice. Tomorrow she would take it with her.
Tomorrow will be the day that she's going to visit her home.
