01-14-2021, 12:22 PM
Delia answers the call, gun in hand.
"Yeah?" she says through the closed door.
"It's me, open up."
She cracks it just enough to see Roman, the CIA mole, standing there smoking a joint.
"Wake and bake princess." he says entering the room uninvited.
He walks over to the small table by the window and is seated.
"This is a non-smoking room." Delia informs.
He stares at her blankly while tapping the joint out on the table top.
"Sure, just do that anywhere."
"You need to be better about answering your phone." he says nodding towards her nightstand.
She walks over to check; two messages.
"Shit, must've turned it off last night."
"Missing a call or message can get you killed." he said.
Delia walks to the side of the bed facing him and sits.
"How much worse does this get?" she asks.
Roman leans forward, an ominous glare pasting his face.
"Billionaire child-fuckers run this world. We're already at the bottom." he returns.
Delia stands and paces the floor, hands on her hips.
"So blowing up sick kids, that's what this has come to?"
"You wanna kill the Devil, you gotta play the demon." he challenged.
She turns and races towards him.
"Don't you dare try to fucking justify the murder of children!" she yells.
He looks up at her, shaking his head.
"They were all terminal. It was more a favor than anything else."
He stands to leave just as Delia shoves her gun under his chin.
"I won't be a part of this. I will not become you!" she said with angry conviction.
His eyes locked on hers. Feeling the raw emotion.
"Now get the fuck out of here." she commanded.
Roman walks slowly to the door, stops and turns.
"I need you on this ride. Be ready in ten." he says and leaves the room.
She never wanted this. There had to be a better way...
"Yeah?" she says through the closed door.
"It's me, open up."
She cracks it just enough to see Roman, the CIA mole, standing there smoking a joint.
"Wake and bake princess." he says entering the room uninvited.
He walks over to the small table by the window and is seated.
"This is a non-smoking room." Delia informs.
He stares at her blankly while tapping the joint out on the table top.
"Sure, just do that anywhere."
"You need to be better about answering your phone." he says nodding towards her nightstand.
She walks over to check; two messages.
"Shit, must've turned it off last night."
"Missing a call or message can get you killed." he said.
Delia walks to the side of the bed facing him and sits.
"How much worse does this get?" she asks.
Roman leans forward, an ominous glare pasting his face.
"Billionaire child-fuckers run this world. We're already at the bottom." he returns.
Delia stands and paces the floor, hands on her hips.
"So blowing up sick kids, that's what this has come to?"
"You wanna kill the Devil, you gotta play the demon." he challenged.
She turns and races towards him.
"Don't you dare try to fucking justify the murder of children!" she yells.
He looks up at her, shaking his head.
"They were all terminal. It was more a favor than anything else."
He stands to leave just as Delia shoves her gun under his chin.
"I won't be a part of this. I will not become you!" she said with angry conviction.
His eyes locked on hers. Feeling the raw emotion.
"Now get the fuck out of here." she commanded.
Roman walks slowly to the door, stops and turns.
"I need you on this ride. Be ready in ten." he says and leaves the room.
She never wanted this. There had to be a better way...
