I raise my eyebrows and shoot him a death glare.
"You don’t know s**t about my tastes. Don’t even think about stirring up trouble unless you want to see me pointing my gun at your face again."
His frown deepens immediately. He must be remembering our little “incident” from a few weeks ago.
Hakim and I had just done a weapons delivery that ended in a bloody shootout with the police, and we went on the run.
After we lost the cops chasing us, we ended up in some remote spot near a forest. He tried to touch me inappropriately.
At first, I stayed calm and patient, but the second he tried to take off my top, I snapped.
I pulled out my gun, aimed it at his balls, and ordered him to get on his knees and apologize. He wasn’t too fond of that.
I let out a small laugh as I recall that glorious
