Killer

Chapter 2

When I came to, I was staring at a white ceiling. I sat up straight, a memory coming back to me, and freaked.

A strong hand gripped mine and a familiar voice called out. "Rachel! Rachel, everything's okay."

I turned my head to see Ryan standing over me and breathed out in relief. But I caught sight of the IV in my arm and lost control again. "Oh God, Ryan. Please get me outta here. I can't stay in here! I have to go home! Home, home, to Momma and Daddy! They have to know I'm safe, and that it's not their fault! Ryan, take me home."

I started to sob, holding my arms out to him. He hugged me tightly, and I could feel he was confused.

"S-Sorry," I hiccuped. "Um...I remembered som-something."

He looked at me and nodded, and I tried to pick apart the emotions in his eyes. But he hid them so well I found myself frustrated and getting nowhere.

"It'll be okay," he said gently, "you can leave soon. The doc's just gotta give you another shot, some meds, and you'll be good to go."

"Hey, Ryan," I said softly, reaching out and catching his hand just as he pulled back, "you were worried about me. Why?"

He stilled, looking down, a blush crawling up his neck into his cheeks. I furrowed my brows. "Ryan?"

"I just...I...I'm gonna go ask the doc if he can hurry up and get you outta here."

I sighed. I tried shifting around and winced as pain shot through my leg. About ten minutes later, Ryan came back with a doctor and a nurse.

"Hi, Rachel." The doctor smiled, and I noticed our organization's name on her lab coat.

I never knew we had a hospital.

"Hey," I replied, trying not to spin weak. "Are you letting me go?"

"We sure are. You're injury wasn't too bad. The bullet barely grazed you, and your gear helped with some of that. Just try laying off physical activity for a little bit. Which means no more missions for about three weeks."

I groaned. No more missions. What was I going to do?

The nurse started unhooking me from the machines. I was back in our room by an hour, Ryan assisting me.

"You okay?" he asked for the hundredth time.

"I'm fine. I just wanna lay down."

He set me down on the couch, taking the chair opposite of me. I shifted until I was comfortable.

"So," I said, twirling my hair around my fingers, "what do you wanna do? We're kinda stuck here. I mean, I'm not allowed to get up anyways, and I'm sure you already know that we have to have explicit permission to leave HQ."

"We could..." a sly, hopeful grin formed on his lips, "get to know each other better?"

Another guy would've had implied another meaning, but his eyes were so innocent and honest it left no room for innuendo. His grin turned into a smile, and I found my lips curving upward. He had a contagious smile.

"Okay," I said, a bit reluctantly. "Okay."

"Since you're so uncomfortable, I'll go first." Ryan's smile disappeared. I frowned. "My mom and dad are still together. I'm the youngest out of three children. My sister is twenty-two and my brother is twenty. I'm sure you already know I'm seventeen. We're not rich, but we're not poor. Average, middle class family. No drama. No excitement. Routine, clean life. About a month ago, I came home from school to find the Director in my living room, holding my family at gunpoint. He told me I could work for him and my family live, or I could work for him and my family die. Either way, I was working for him. I agreed, and...here I am." He gestured to himself bitterly, his eyes cold. He was a prisoner here. I was neither prisoner nor free.