A CLOSED starter for @innxcentfaces ft. DOMINIC MURPHY
"Boss..."
The word alone was enough to pull Dominic's attention. He straightened, dragging his head out from under the hood of the car he'd been working on. Grabbing the nearest rag, he turned, slow and unbothered, like someone who already knew what waited for him. His gaze swept over the small group with the same lazy disinterest he used to wipe the grease from his hands - methodical and detached. The grey wifebeater clung to his chest, damp with sweat, stretched across solid muscle. His arms shifted with quiet menace as the rag twisted between his palms, bulging biceps flexing with each movement.
One brow arched when his eyes finally landed on the centrepiece: a girl, forced to her bare knees on the filthy garage floor. Dark blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a bruise blooming along the line of her cheek. Someone had clearly decided to shut her up on the way here. She was flanked by two of his men - one of them Shawn, her dealer. The idiot who'd been bending the rules, letting her pay in sloppy head and sweet little moans instead of money. Something that might have flown under the radar for longer, if one of Dominic's area managers hadn't noticed the discrepancy on the books. He stood on the girl's other side now, built like a brick wall, looking decidedly unamused.
Dominic didn't usually bother with this kind of low-level bullshit anymore, but this? This had gotten his attention. Not many people had the balls - or the brain rot - to skim from his operation for a piece of ass. So either the guy was a moron, or the girl had something special between her thighs.
His eyes lingered on the pretty little whore for a moment longer. Then he curled the rag into a ball and tossed it onto a worktable without looking. His focus cut to Shawn, who looked far too relaxed for someone standing at the edge of a grave. Smug, even. Like he thought he'd gotten away with something. Probably thought pinning it all on his favourite fucktoy was going to save him. Had been hard at work, spinning that tale on the entire ride to Dom's garage.
"So you're the one who can't fuckin' count," Dominic finally said, voice low and even, almost calm considering the volatile temper he was known for. Shawn opened his mouth to speak, some dumb defence poised, but Dom shook his head before he could get a single word out. "Don't bother." A dismissal; cold and final. Shawn, surprisingly, made the smart choice and clamped right up - not that it mattered.
Dom turned his attention back to the girl, stepping in closer. "And you..." He continued evenly, eyes locking onto her pretty blues. "You've got a pussy worth dying for, huh?"
As if on cue, the manager slightly behind her raised his arm and pulled the trigger. One clean shot. Not a word of warning. The bullet tore through Shawn's temple and he crumpled sideways in an instant, dead eyes staring up at the girl beside him, blood spreading fast beneath his head. Dominic didn't even blink. Just kept watching the girl.