“Want to get out of here?” I ask her.

A sly smirk comes across her face. She looks past me, and says “We better hurry.”

My eyes follow her to the front entrance. One of her security guards is walking through, his eyes scanning the bar for her.

She grabs her purse off the bartop and slides off the stool.

Here we go.

Slapping some cash on the bar, I nod at the bartender. “I’ve got her tab.” I say as I motion to Quinn and then slide my hand into hers. The bartender just waves me off as she takes multiple orders from guests.

Good. Too busy to notice anything.

I guide her to the back door and hesitate as I push down on the door handle. The dewy night air meets my face as I descend the steps into the dark alley.

Looking out of my periphery, I see Shado’s van parked a little further into the darkness.

Once we reach the bottom of the steps, I pull her in front of me so she can’t see who is approaching.

As she takes a few steps toward me, I whisper, “You’re really going to hate me.”

A confused look flashes across her face as Shado quietly walks up behind her and jabs a small needle into her neck, pushing the medication slowly into her body. A small dose of ketamine to keep her sedated long enough to get her to my persuasion room at headquarters.Within seconds, she buckles into my arms and I assist her to the ground. I watch as her eyelids flutter closed and a small part of me regrets doing this.

Shado quickly places the black fabric blindfold over her head and carefully picks her up. He swiftly carries her to the back of the van. I walk ahead of him to open the doors in the back and he gently places her in the back on the makeshift cot he made before we left the bunker.

Slamming the doors shut, he looks around. Satisfied that no one saw us, he glances at me. “Are you okay?”

Pushing the thoughts from earlier from my head, I straighten up and exhale. “Yep. She’s just another job. Let’s go.”

***

Driving up to headquarters, Shado pulls around to the back entrance. Him and I quickly hop out of the van and walk around to the back, opening the doors. Carefully, he hoists Quinn’s limp body over his shoulder. Closing the door behind him, I hurry over to the back entrance of the large mansion. I wince at the serum scanner as it pricks my finger. Once it recognizes my sample, the retinal light scans my eyes and flashes green. The door clicks as the lock releases and we step inside.

Repeating the same process for the elevators, I mash the button for the basement level. On the way down, Quinn begins to start squirming on Shado’s shoulders. He sets her down on her feet and leans her against the sleek elevator wall. She lightly groans when her head falls against the wall.

The elevator dings and we both wrap one of her arms around our necks to keep her on her feet.

Walking down the long dimly lit hallway, I pass Everly as we carefully drag Quinn into the persuasion room.

“Don’t hurt her.” She reminds me.

I roll my eyes and mock her. “Awww, you said not to kill her. Let me play, Mommy.” I feign a whine as I stick out my bottom lip.

Everly chuckles, “You’re so rough when you play, Calista. Don’t hurt her,” She smiles. “…too much.”

We enter the persuasion room and walk to the middle where the lone chair is sitting, the same chair where Shado once sat tied and tortured. He carefully places Quinn in the chair. Still mostly sedated from the ketamine, aside from the occasional groan or slight squirm, her arms fall to the sides and her head leans forward against her collarbone. I take her limp hands in mine and pull them behind the back of the chair, wrapping them together with cable ties.

Stepping back and leaning against the concrete wall, I admire Quinn while I wait for her to rouse. Her long, blond hair cascades down the front of her chest. A loose white blouse is tucked into her black skirt, the top button undone after handling her in the van.

Shado flicks the switch to the only source of light in the room, the black rustic sconces hanging on the wall, and walks over to stand next to me. When I look down, I notice he’s holding my extra quiver and arrows in his hand.

“You ready?” he asks, handing me an arrow.

“Is that even a question?” I smirk. “I need a little fun.”

At the sound of our voices, Quinn’s head slowly raises. I stride over and rip off the blindfold. Her blue eyes are still glassy as they try to adjust to her surroundings. As her pupils adjust, her gaze focuses on me standing in front of her. If her stare could shoot daggers, I would be dead.

“You fucking psychotic bitch,” Quinn spits out.