Verboten » H.S. (EDITING)

anne

*edited*

Thump. Thump. Thump.

 My brain registers the noise but I'm too tired to go find out what it is.

 Thump. Thump. BANG.

My eyes fly open. A gunshot? Is there someone in our house? But the alarms aren't going off.

THUMP. Thump.

I retrieve the gun that I keep under my pillow and get out of bed. My palms are slick and I have trouble keeping a firm grip.

"Control." I remind myself as my bare feet make little noise against the hardwood of my floor as I creep towards my door.

 I hold my breath as I put my ear against the door. Expecting to hear the normal sounds of Ana making breakfast, I hear complete silence. I open the door and begin down the hall, stopping every so often to listen. I'm outside of my brother's office when I hear men cursing and pacing around before another THUMP.

"You're going to have to kill me you fat, old fu-." BANG.

 I take a deep breath and push through the door, my gun finding a man standing with his back to me.

All is silent as he turns to me, visibly gnashing his teeth. I sigh in relief when I realize its Alexi, the cousin who brought up the raid yesterday at breakfast.

I tuck my gun into the waistband of my leggings. I glance around the room, seeing only 2 other men, Zayn and Dimitri, Alexi's son. My brother is nowhere to be seen and I furrow my brows; No one's allowed in here without him.

A woman in black silk pajamas is backed into a corner, tied to a chair. I realize that these men were questioning the woman in not only the house, but without their boss present.

 Questioning always takes place in an office, safely away from the house. It's where my brother and his cronies go to take care of shipments, weapons, business, and the Stilinski's.

Alexi's pudgy body is tense and his face begins to turn red. Eventually so does his entire bald head. I could have laughed at the sight if I wasn't so angry.

"Get out of here!" He yells at me in Russian, "Little girls don't belong in here with us men!"

"What do you think you're doing? Shooting a gun into the house? Where's Nikolai? Are you fucking nuts?" I walk closer to Alexi and press my finger into his chest.

"Nikolai will not find out, will he, little girl? Maybe it's time you learn your place." Alexi grabs my arm and twists it around to my back so I'm at his mercy. I kick back at him, hitting his most sensitive area, causing him to release me.

My gun is out of my waistband and pressed against his forehead before I register what I'm doing. I breathe in deeply to control myself then swifty turn the gun around and  slam the handle against his nose, hearing an audible CRACK. Alexi falls from his knees into the fetal position, unable to get up.

"Isn't it time you learn your place, old man?" I can't help but taunt him. I turn away from him and glance at the other men. They raise their hands in a silent defeat and bow their heads.

"Impressive one, aren't you?" The woman speaks. 

"I'm Anne, but you probably already know that." And I already did. Her thick, brown hair is tied in a ponytail and her face is covered in bruises.

Her green eyes stare at me in awe, like I'm a circus performer.  She even has a smile on her face despite a puddle of blood growing underneath her chair. I regard her coolly before turning around to face Alexi.

 "I want all of the blood cleaned up, all the bullets out of the walls, and a First Aid Kit. Now. Am I clear?" I give him a glare and he responds with a respectful "Yes ma'am." before walking out of the room. I hear him cursing under his breath before turning the corner, silence covering the room once again.

 I sit down on one of the couches and run my hands over my face. Zayn nods in understanding and steps forward to hand me a cigarette. I light it and take a drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs and ease my tension. I tell Dimitri to hurry Alexi along because the blood will stain the hardwood floor. I settle back into the couch and glance at the clock on the wall. It's not even 5 a.m.; I didn't even get a full hour of sleep.

 "It's too early," I mutter, "Too damn early."

"A teenage assassin? Impressive." Anne is still tied in the corner, the blood seeping further into the floor. I grunt in response and inhale the fumes again. Closing my eyes, I wish I was still asleep in my bed.

The silence is killing me and I decide to fill it with pointless conversation. Maybe if I keep her talking, she'll give us some answers on what the Stilinski's are up to these days.

 "I'm not a teenager."

 "Sorry?" Anne cocks her head to the side

 "I'm not a teenager, I'm 20." I stare at her as I stub out the cigarette.

 "It's all in the eyes, dear. It makes you look youthful yet deadly. Just like your father. You look like him."

 I cringe and pretend I didn't hear what she said. There goes my questioning tactic.

Luckily for me, Dimitri and Alexi reappear. Alexi has a band aid across his nose. He unties Anne from the chair and reties her to one closer to me.

I realize that the thumping noises were from Anne bouncing to move the chair away from the men. Alexi gets down on his hands and knees and works on cleaning the blood. Dimitri hands me the First Aid Kit and returns to standing by the doors, beside Zayn.

 "Where is the wound?" I'm searching for the source of bleeding but can't see anything. Anne nods toward her pajama-covered leg. I sit by her feet like a child and roll the pants leg up. A bullet grazed her leg, but not deep enough for stitches. I throw a glare to Alexi. Gun use in the house is against Nikolai's rules since Ana is expecting and we can't afford any accidents.

I'm impressed at Anne's indifference to the cut in her leg. I look up at her and she shrugs as if it was no big deal.

 "I've had more bullets in me than children."

I work at cleaning her up, going through the process as if it was nothing. Once I'm done, I stand up. The sun is peeking over the horizon and the only thing on my mind is bed.

 "You're a very pretty girl, Zoelie." Anne murmurs. I jump at hearing my name come from her mouth then give her a nod although I'm smug that the enemy's wife finds me attractive.

 "So very pretty. You're 20 right, my son is 21. You'd be the perfect girl for him if you weren't a dirty Boykov slut." Her smile widens and mine drops.

 "He'd like you. A lot," She continues. I glare harder then turn to walk out, my bed calling my name.

 "Harry would love a little vixen like you."

 A/N: ok this was edited :) enjoy x