Bonjour mis amis!
Hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a bit more relaxed. A bit. Anyways, continue!
To the story!
* * * * *
I shivered. Fall was coming to an end; the dreary blanket of winter snow was coming.
I was walking to school today, I couldn’t handle being in the car with Adrian this morning.
I pulled my zip-up hoodie tighter around me. I doubted Adrian even remembered what he said. He was so tired; I think it was making him say things. He was just saying it because of what we were. Because of who we were.
I could see the school just down the road. I walked carefully down the hill, hugging myself. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice the sleek black car as it came to a stop in front of me. It skidded to a halt and a person in black leaped out, pointing a gun at me. A Glock 23. I stood rooted to the spot. I heard the click of the gun.
Suddenly, everything appeared to move in slow motion. I dived out of the bullets unyielding path and snatched up the knife I had in my boot. I aimed and flung the knife in the woman’s direction. She dodged it just in time. Before I could do anything further, the woman jumped back into her car and screeched down the road. I stared after her.
“Tanya!” I cast a glance towards the school, now behind me. Novosi was running from his car at full speed. I stood up defensively, wary of what he was about to do. He stopped right in front of me, not even panting, and gave me a quick check-over before looking me in the face.
“Who was that?” I asked. Novosi shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Tanya, I don’t know. She could have been a wipeout agent from either of our sides. I don’t know,” he repeated.
“Either? Why would Byron want to kill me? And I thought you told me your side wanted me alive?” I stared at him, perplexed.
“Tanya, it might have been another agent. Ours isn’t the only ones out there.”
I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated. Why couldn’t my life be easier? I wasn’t even sure who I was anymore, who anyone was.
“Get in the car.”
“What?”
“Get in the car, Tanya,” Novosi repeated. I raised an eyebrow. “Your arm is bleeding.” And sure enough, the sleeves of my shirt were soaked through with blood. How many times would my arms get injured? Novosi held the passenger door open for me. He shut the door and around to the back of the car, rummaging through the stuff in his trunk. Novosi slipped into the driver’s seat with a first aid kit.
“Take off your shirt,” he commanded.
“Excuse me?”
“I need to clean that, if you don’t mind. Are you wearing anything underneath your shirt?”
“Yeah, a bra.”
Novosi winced. “That’s not what I meant.”
I pulled off my shirt as I said, “You know this could be considered illegal.”
“Everything we do is illegal. Well, everything you do, at least.”
I frowned at him. I tucked my shirt behind me, glad that I had a tank top underneath. Novosi poured some alcohol onto a swab and leaned towards me. He gently dabbed at my wound. Apparently the bullet had just managed to scratch my arm, nothing deep, but I hissed in pain when the acidic liquid touched me.
