Then and now

Chapter 21: Ashers POV

Two: He doesn't know what he is doing, possibly a tourist, and just wants some company. 

Three: He wants a friend. 

And four: He's just a fucking weirdo. 

I stop staring at him, about to get up and leave. 

"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" I keep my breathing even and sit still, not taking my AirPods out of my ear to hint that I don't feel like talking. 

The stranger has a very strong British accent. We get almost no tourists in this town. Who the fuck is this guy?

He is already looking at me with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

I just raise my eyebrows in agreement, not wanting to engage in conversation for obvious reasons. 

I want to leave, but a part of me is curious about what he wants. 

"I'm looking for someone. Could you help me out?" My eyes dart towards him and I am surprised by his question. 

I narrow my eyes at him. 

"Depends. Tell me who you're looking for." I keep my voice gruff and my face unmoving. 

He gives me a smirk and pokes his cheek with his tongue, looking smug. I already want to fucking punch this guy. 

"Well, I'm looking for.. a friend of mine."

Why the fuck would he need my help to find his friend?

I don't know if I want the answer to that. 

Curious, I urge him on. 

"Who's your friend? And why would I know them?" 

He looks like he was expecting this question, and he rubs his buzzed hair and takes his sweet time before replying. 

"Well, you see, I'm pretty sure you know her quite well. She isn't... okay in the head. Sometimes she has these delusional episodes and she forgets everything."

He speaks in a hesitant tone, like he is trying to convince himself of what he is saying. 

I signal with my hands for him to continue, curious with what he has to say. 

I would have never guessed the name that came out of his mouth. 

If I had, I might have been more prepared. 

"Her name is Amira."

It takes me a couple of seconds to register what he just said. 

This is Logan. Logan hurt Amira. Logan wants to hurt Amira.

The asshole is like half my size. 

It takes me 30 seconds to try and calm myself down. 

Another minute to stop myself from beating him to a pulp. 

I'm just staring at his fucking smug, mother fucking face trying to think logically. 

Though everything in me is urging me to literally make him regret ever being alive, I have to think in the best interest of Amira. 

I beat him up, he knows I'm close with her, he gets even more mad at her, he knows where she is staying. 

My eyes go to the bottom of his shirt. I see the gun in his waistband, and I try to keep myself from going into fight or flight. This isn't the time to act without thinking. For my safety and hers. 

The only thing that I can afford to think about right now is how to make him think that Amira isn't here. That I'm not even associated with her whatsoever. 

I don't waste any time before replying. He can't know where she is. 

"Oh. I don't really know her, our parents are friends though. She's out of town with her dad I think. Well that's what my parents told me." 

I pray that he can't hear the anger in my voice, and I pray that he can't see my fists shaking with the urge to hit him. 

The lie rolls of my tongue, and I know as soon as I've said it that it was the right thing to say. If he thinks she's not here, he might leave. 

"Is that right?"

The British accent makes it slightly hard to understand him, but I can tell that he wasn't happy with my answer. 

I just nod, not expanding. 

"I saw her come out of your house the other day. I saw you go into her house with her last week."

He waits for me to reply, standing his ground and not looking away from me. 

Think of a lie, Asher. Keep her safe. Don't give away that you have a connection to her. Make something up. 

"Yeah. I was going in there to get some sugar for my parents. She came over for dinner with her dad before they went away. We barely even talked. What the fuck is your problem, man?" Getting pissed off, I raise my voice slightly and stand up. 

He puts his hands up in surrender, looking confused. 

I take this as an opportunity and I walk off, leaving him at the bench. 

I run as soon as I turn the corner, the image of the gun in his waistband flashing in my mind. 

I run as fast as I can. 

I run towards my house, towards Amira. 

I run, thinking of what he must have done to Amira in the past. 

I run to the image of smashing his face until he's unrecognisable. 

I run to the image of hugging Amira and never letting go. Of protecting her until the day I die. 

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HI GUYSSSSSS 

SOO.. Abit of a writing break. I'm so so so so sorry!

I'm so grateful to all of my readers who have made it this far in my story!

Love you all, I will update again soon I promise