Dark Intentions

|8. I'm just a hitman, okay?|

*not edited* 

|8.|

"What?" I breathe, blinking a couple of times as if that would clear me from my shock.

"Are you deaf aswell as stupid? I said he's a fucking conman. What more is there to be confused about?" He replied, annoyed. Clearly his rudeness has no limit.

"Ok first of all drop the fucking attitude. Secondly, I met Aarons parents, okay? They are as real as they come." I insist.

My kidnapper rolls his eyes.

"Wow! Why am I not surprised that your stupidity has hit new limits." He sits forward on the chair, lets out a deep, frustrated sigh and clicks his head side to side.

"Listen bitch, you have wasted more of my time than necessary, so I'm gonna make this as clear as possible. Hopefully there is something still ticking in your small head that can make you understand what I'm saying."

Breath Kes, breathe. Don't say anything impulsive. The psycho still has a gun, I remind myself.

"I don't know what your preschool kid imagination has conjured up about the man you were happily about to marry. But let me break some unfortunate news to you, sweetheart. Francis-Aaron- honeybunch, sugarplum- whatever the fuck you wanna' call him, he ain't a good guy. He pretends to be a nice man, presentable, rich, from a good family and then he comes into your life and fucks you over. Simples."

Silence.

I purse my lips, absorbing this new information my kidnapper-turned-life counselor was providing me.

"I am just going on a hunch here, and hey, I might be wrong, but why do I get the feeling you don't like this Francis guy much?" I ask.

He smirks and we share solid eye contact for a second before he shrugs his shoulders.

"I 'ain't got nothing against the guy. But the man that's paying me to find the fucker and kill him does. I just do what I'm told."

Right. Ok.

Now that I had some more information I started to piece things together.

Aaron is not Aaron.

Aaron-who-is-not-Aaron-but-is-actually-Francis-a-con man stole some money

That money belongs to the man who is most probably paying my kidnapper to find Francis and kill him

Ok I kinda get it now. I think.

"So let me get this straight," I pause and take a deep breath. "You are being paid by the man whose money Aaron- I mean Francis- stole, in order to find Francis and kill him."

"God Almighty, praise Jesus and the Virgin Mary, this woman actually has a brain." He mocks, throwing his arms up in the air.

I grit my teeth so hard my gums start to hurt. I mean, my parents blessed me with many things, such as melanin loaded skin and a passionate love for all things spicy, but one thing they did not give me was the gift of patience. And holy damn was this guy pushing me to the brink of sanity.

Calm, Kessiya. Remain calm.

"Ok," I ignore his unnecessary taunt, "so since you're so fucking smart, please explain to me why I am the one tied up in your secret little mancave, when in fact you should probably be spending your time trying to find the person your actually being paid to find, huh?"

In my head my words sounded a lot more fierce and ballsy. Also in my head, my words left my kidnapper shocked and speechless. In reality however, the situation played out slightly differently.

"Oh good question Kessiya!" He exclaims, with fake enthusiasm and I ignore the weird tightening in my stomach at the way my name falls from his lips.

"And do you know what?" He questions rhetorically, "I did find him and if I remember correctly, I not only found the guy I was paid to find, but I was holding a G19 to his head. But we both know what happened next, don't we?"

CLANG! I can still almost hear the resounding noise of the frying pan hitting his head. What a glorious moment.

Such a shame it was so short lived.

Despite my attempt at getting one over my kidnapper, it was I who was put in my place.

Annoyed, I growl, "So what? You're basically blaming me for everything?"

Once again the bastard shrugs his broad shoulders. "Am I wrong though? Who the fuck in this world decided to get married to a complete stranger and then later interferes in an interrogation and attempts to batter a man to death with a frying pan?"

Um.

Right.

"Well, I'm telling you the truth. I don't know where Aar-Francis is. I also don't know where he would have taken the stolen money." I insist.

He sucks his teeth and makes a clicking sound with his mouth. "Well then I guess your services are no longer needed."

The gun spins in his hand and I feel my heart drop again. No, please.

"Wait, what about his parents? He might have gone to their house?" I try to stall. I try to twist my hands against my binds to see if they could be loosened at all.

My kidnapper snickers nexts to me. "You didn't meet his parents." He explains, still amused. "You met his pay-by-the-hour, parents."

Pay-by-the-hour?

"Are you telling me Aaron hired actors to play his parents?" I ask, feeling like my whole life was pretty much falling around me.

"Like I told you before. He ain't the good guy."

My fingers fall still around the rope as I'm too distracted trying to piece things together. Wait if he lied about all these things, then perhaps he lied about-

"Is he even gay?" I blurt out, shocking both myself and my surprised kidnapper.

He watched me carefully, one eyebrow raised. Then swiping his hand down his chin, he sighs.

"You thought he was gay?" He questions.

"Yeah! I mean he told me he met this guy at work and they were in love." I don't understand why I am more furious at the fact Aaron might not actually be gay, than the fact he is a lying, cheating conman.

Another sigh from my kidnapper, who now looks close to giving up. He closes his eyes and rests a palm on his head, looking weary all of a sudden.

We sit in silence for a second before he looks up and stares directly into my eyes.

"Why. The. Fuck. Would. You. Plan. To. Marry. Someone. You. Thought. Was. Gay?" He asks. Each word stretched and pointed.

Dry mouthed, I just stare back at him unable to form an answer, until I shrug my shoulder and redirect the conversation.

"Excuse me, but that's not what I asked. Is Aaron gay or not?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know his sexual preferences, okay. I just know that he was supposed to be dead six hours ago and he isn't."

"So what are you going to do about it?" I ask, just as the sound of guns firing fills the warehouse and an ominous voice speaks up.

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?" 

Guys, 

I apologise truly for the late updates but I literally have no motivation and i just feel like giving up on this story for now. But this chapter was already written so I've posted it up. I'm not proud of it and I know it needs a lot of work but just bear with me, please? 

Rose.