Achilles Heel

12. I don't like liars

The dim light swings from side to side above our heads, swaying with seemingly no reason. The smell of mildew was permeating in the air, coating the insides of my nostrils with the putrid smell. I’d probably smell this for hours on end which was just lovely. This warehouse was vastly different from the first one that I was brought to. It was smaller, more compact and there was only one floor to which I could see, unless there was a basement.

The floor that my feet walked upon was nothing but concrete along with the walls, it was as if the warehouse was never finished. The warehouse seems to be derelict. Forgotten about. Somehow that’s scarier to me, filling my tummy with the nerves that I had grown used to this past week. This wasn’t one of their warehouses. It’s like this is a test in itself to see if I would dish out the coordinates to someone. Niall was waiting for me outside, which caught me off guard considering I had been expecting Harry.

“So…” Niall speaks up from beside me, his head turning to look at me before he returns his gaze forward. I’m not surprised that he wants to make small talk. Awkward silent moments like these seemed to make him uncomfortable.

However, I appreciated the silence, even if the silence was the sole reason for my mind running rampant and creating all of the worst-case scenarios of what this could be.

I decide to put an end to the awkward silence for Niall’s sake, he seems to actually want to make small talk anyways.

“Yes, little one?” I ask in a patronising tone, watching as the realisation flashes before his eyes. It was the nickname--if you would even call it that, that he had given me during the first ‘test’.

His index finger comes up to rub underneath his nose, seeming to gather his thoughts before he turns down a hallway. “I suppose I deserved that. However, you are small. Smaller than Louis and that’s pretty small.”

I feel like we had been walking for at least ten minutes at this point, stopping in front of a steel door. Niall is the one to open it, revealing a flight of stairs that disappeared down into the darkness. I’ve seen enough horror movies in my time to know that nothing good came from dark, damp basements.

“Firstly, I may be small but I’m pretty sure a kick to the balls will take all of you down, no?” I question, moving my hand forward to gesture for him to go down first. After all, he is supposed to be leading me towards the destination. “After you, Little one,” I smirk, seeing a little sparkle in the lads’ eyes. He and I might get along well.

Niall clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, giving a shake of his head before he starts making his way down the dark stairs and before I knew it I couldn’t even see his shadow. I’m still lingering at the top, watching as his form disappears before my eyes.

This is definitely a scene out of a horror movie.

Once I finally forced my body to start moving down the stairs, the first thing that hits me is the smell of sulfur. Gunshot residue. It’s being fired consistently and the sound was familiar to my ears. I could pick out each gun that was being fired over and over as if they were shooting targets.

Despite the walk down being completely desolate and dark, the room that we walk into is bright as can be and a makeshift shooting range is before me.

From what I can see there are exactly fifteen booths, targets hung up before them and they are able to move along the pipes that they are attached to. It soon dawns on me that I would be tested on my ability to fire a gun and hit a target. There’s only one problem with that.

I had damn near perfect aim and I could reload a gun faster than someone else could pull a trigger on me.

This will be more than a test considering I’ll have to pretend like I don’t know how to aim. It depended on what Harry had uncovered of my fake identity that was no doubt given to him. Did they tell him I had perfect aim or did they tell him that I was iffy? What all did he know? I was itching to find out.

Speaking of the devil.

“I see the Little devil has shown up unscathed. How was Oliver?” He questions, referring to his driver who had picked me up from my house. This reminds me that I had some questions for Harry that I need answers to. I knew it was Niall that probably got my file but I have to appear unassuming as to who they were.

“He was much lovelier than you.” I retort, giving him a tight smile as I turn to look at the men that were shooting in the booths. My suspicions from earlier are confirmed whenever I see that one of them is a police officer. Not undercover. He works within the gang. I recognised him almost immediately as Lieutenant Bailey.

He’s under suspicion by the MI6 for treason for a while, now I just needed to get sufficient evidence that he was under Harry’s hand.

“Ah, he may have a better attitude than I do but I doubt his fingers are anything like mine.” He grumbles, which leads to me rolling my eyes considering I still have yet to receive a mind-blowing orgasm from him.

Instead of my boss’s words echoing throughout my head like usual, it was Wren’s.

“I don’t give a fuck what Jessie said was off-limits. You do whatever you think you have to finish this mission.”

Don’t mind if I do.

“Sorry, I don’t do married men anyway so I wouldn’t know if they are.” I tsk, crossing my arms over my chest. Getting underneath Harry’s skin is slowly becoming one of my favourite things to do. It’s just so easy to do. I can tell he isn’t used to women one-upping him or consistently going against his word.

He isn’t used to a woman that’s dominant and independent. I’m coming in and tearing down every perceived thought that he has of women.

I have a decision to make here. Either I go in guns blazing and show them all that I could take each of them out before they even have a chance to hit me or I pretend that I don’t know what I’m doing and catch them off guard when I hit the target between the eyes each time.

I’m going with the latter.

“Oh, are you sure about that? I mean, given your job as a stripper I’m sure you attend to multiple married men.” A smirk graces his lips but his words make me grit my teeth together. An action that scratches a part of my brain that I highly dislike. Harry Styles is a dick.

“Just because I’m a stripper doesn’t mean that I’m a prostitute and even if I was, that doesn’t mean you have the right to disrespect me. Those women are human beings and believed that selling their body was their last resort to survive because they were handed a shit hand in life. Support sex workers instead of putting them down.” I spat, stepping forward and spitting directly onto the sleek black shoes he’s wearing.

What a shit choice for training anyways. Would be a shame if a bullet were to just...hit his foot.

The entire training area is quiet as I make my way towards an empty booth, deciding that I’m done waiting for Harry at this point. He has successfully pissed me off which was a hard task to do.

A presence eventually comes up beside me, taking a hold of my hand and placing what I can easily recognise as a simple pistol in my hand. Easy enough.

The target moves closer towards me, leading me to believe that they thought I wouldn’t be able to hit a target. Even better.

Everyone’s silent as I bring my hands up, grasping onto the grip of the gun before pulling the trigger but nothing happens. I had purposefully left the safety switch on.

“Oi! I told ya, H. She doesn’t know anything!” A high pitched voice comes from the booth next to me which is quickly followed by a small, pitiful ‘ow’. I can only assume the lad had gotten punched in the arm for his statement.

“You know…” A voice speaks up from behind me, their body being pressed directly up against my backside as their hands come around to grasp onto the gun. I can see the all-too-familiar cross tattoo, my body relaxing involuntarily when I realise that it’s just Harry.

“I’ve read your file, Astar Lennox…” He breathes right against the crest of my ear, keeping his voice quiet but I only relax further because he has only gotten my fake identity file. His hands come to grip the gun, turning the safety off for me before dropping his hands down to grip at my waist.

“And I don’t like liars. Everyone in this room knows that little Astar can hit that target perfectly and that your favourite weapon is a Glock. No need to pretend..” He drowns off, giving the sides of my waist a rough squeeze before his presence disappears from behind me. The target was suddenly moving further back, my eyes rolling once it was in the spot that Harry had deemed suitable.

If they wanted a show, I would give them a fucking show.

I fire all seventeen bullets, each bullet flying through the exact same hole that’s between the eyes of the target from afar. The hole never becomes bigger. It stays the exact same size, meaning each bullet flies through the exact same hole. I’m not a centimetre off.

Just to take it a step further, I start to reload it in record time since the slide locked back to reveal the now empty chamber. I bring my index finger to the side, pressing down on the magnetic release so that the empty magazine falls out of the bottom.

I catch it swiftly, immediately setting it down on the platform before reloading it with a full magazine. I hit the palm of my hand up against the butt of the gun, making sure I hear the click before pulling back the slide with my hand that isn’t on the trigger, bringing a bullet forward into the chamber as I raise it to shoot right between the eyes of the target once more.

I only fired one shot to show everyone that I hadn’t put the magazine into the chamber crooked, which could happen when you’re doing it blind and fast.

The entire warehouse is silent, no shots being fired, the smell of sulfur is still present but not as much. Maybe I’ve gone too far and they’re suspicious now. Fuck.

However, I’m torn from my thoughts by the sound of clapping breaking out, a look to my right told me that it was Louis who had started it, a cocky half-smirk on his face as he looked from me to Harry.

“She just beat your reload time by a lot, H. Your reload time is what? Thirty seconds? Hers was less than ten.” He cackles, bringing his hand down to slap against Harry’s shoulder who’s jaw clenches and then unclenches, his gaze unwavering on me.

Harry’s face is pulled tight, eyes boring into mine with a sort of fury in them. It’s becoming more and more apparent that he doesn’t like the idea of someone outdoing him. Especially a woman.

Against my better judgement, I decided to add fuel to the fire.

A pout began to form on my lips, tugging the corners of them down as I cross my arms over my chest. “Awe…” I breathe out, adding fake sympathy to my voice as I speak.

“What a shame. Your men probably think you’re inferior now. Do they also know that you’re incapable of making a girl cum?” I question, my pout turning upwards to form a smirk whenever his men start to laugh, cocking my head to the side as the clapping starts up once again.

This time, all of the men join in which seems to infuriate Harry even more. The vein that lines his neck protrudes out, the veins in his hands becoming even more prominent as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

Harry and I stay glued to our spots, neither of us moving.

“Ah, H. You couldn’t make her cum? That’s a first for you, lad. You must be down bad.” Niall huffs, moving to throw his arm over my shoulder, to which I lean into.

“A night with me and I’ll leave your legs shaking, do we have a plan?” the brunette questions, moving to look right at me, which makes me giggle.

Zayn throws his arm over my other shoulder, keeping his eyes locked with Harry as he did so.

“Who was it that got you close to your orgasm? Oh...It was me. Maybe Ni and I could show Harry here how it’s done. Harry does like to watch a little show after all…” Zayn drowns off. If smoke were able to come out of Harry’s ears like in the cartoons, I’m sure that would be happening right about now.

Somehow this has gone from a test to everyone deciding to piss Harry off.

He’s starting to emulate a cartoon character more and more with how progressively angrier he’s getting.

Zayn moves his arm that’s slung around my neck down, placing his hand on the small of my back before he moves his hand down even further so that it rests upon my ass.

This small action is what seems to push Harry forward, breaking him from his stupor as he unclenches his fists.

“How did you know my name, Astar?” He asks, breaking the silence that had filled the room since the teasing began.

I let Zayn’s hand stay where it is, a soft laugh escaping from my lips. Of all questions he could ask, he asks this one. “How did you know my name, Harry?” I rebut, tilting my head to the side a bit as I watch the sides of Harry’s lips turn upwards. Got him.

“Touche, Little Devil. Touche.” He clicks his tongue up against the roof of his mouth before looking between the two boys that I’m currently sandwiched between. They haven’t moved. They stay glued to my side, Zayn’s hand occasionally running up and down my ass whilst Niall’s hand rubs soothing circles into my shoulder.

“But if you must know…” I drown off, seeing Harry’s head move up to lock eyes with me once more. “Girls talk at a strip club. You’ve shagged most of the girls there, or did you not take the time to remember their names? You seem like the type.” I chastise, giving a shake of my head.

“They had nothing but good things to say about you. However, I was left feeling disappointed after our encounter.” I add, my lips turning up at the corners once again to form a smirk, feeling satisfied as I watch Harry’s jaw fall open. It’s just one blow after another.

I don’t feel bad about it, especially not with how his men are reacting and cheering me on.

Harry takes long strides towards me then, bringing his gun up to push away a little piece of my hair that had fallen into my face.

Something about this little action makes me clench my thighs together, keeping my eyes locked on him. I’m now sandwiched between not one, not two, but three astoundingly attractive men. Somehow, I don’t think this is what Wren meant by doing whatever it took to finish the mission. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her though.

Eventually, a presence comes up behind me, the accent easily bringing me to realise who it is.

“Isn’t she being naughty, Haz?” The Donny accent fills my entire being, causing a shiver to run down the length of my spine but I don’t dare make a noise or move. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that what they are doing was in fact affecting me. In more ways than one at this point.

Louis’ moves his hand up to undo the hair tie that is holding my hair up, letting it fall against my back before he then wraps the hair around his hand twice and pulls my head back to expose my neck to everyone.

The little gleam that is in Harry’s eyes tells me everything I need to know.

“I don’t think naughty would be the word for it...although, I do think you lot were naughty. Clapping for her as she picked on me?” He tsks a bit, moving the loaded gun slowly down my neck and to my chest, bringing the barrel of the gun down to my nipple to circle it through the black turtle neck.

I am unable to say anything, my brain trying to catch up to the whiplash that it’s experiencing with the change of conversation and what was happening. I came here for a test and I feel like I’ll be leaving winded and barely able to walk.

“Ah, H. We may have been naughty but you teased her and left her there without an orgasm. So, if anything happens, bossman. You only get to sit there and watch as we continue to please her over and over. In my eyes…” Zayn drowns off, turning to look at me as Louis pushes my head back up.

“She deserves it more than you do.”

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