Innocent (Stark's Daughter 7)

Chapter 8

Ward was silent after I asked him why he became a agent, just sat at the desk and stared at the wall. He went out last night and found a hoodie, which he gave straight to me, it's slightly too big and reaches my knees but it's warm.

I wake suddenly, running my hands over my exhausted face. I try to go back to sleep, but I fail. Sitting up in the bed, I see Ward still sat at the desk and leaning his right cheek on his right palm. I pick up the blue blanket from my rucksack and drape it over his shoulders. Ward jolts awake, glancing at me as I climb back into bed.

"You looked cold." I whisper.

"Thanks." He mutters, wrapping it tighter around himself.

Suddenly, outside we hear screams and glass shattering. We both stand up, Ward jumps in front of me and pushes me back. My hands begin to shake, my heart beating faster.

"Put your hands around the bed post." Ward orders.

Slowly, I hold my hands up either side of the bed post. Ward bends down and quickly snaps the handcuffs on. I pull them and fight.

"Don't leave, Ward." I plead.

He bends down and pulls the bullet proof vest out of the rucksack, then over his head and clips it into place. He pulls a gun out of his pocket and holds it low on his left side.

"Ward, don't." I warn him, turning around so I watch him tiptoe to the door.

He yanks the door open, glancing both ways and closes it as he steps outside.

"Ward!" I hiss, pulling as hard as I can on the stupid handcuffs.

The windows suddenly smash next to the bed. I duck on the floor as the shattering burns into my ears. After a few seconds I slowly stand, looking up and hands grab me. I kick backwards, they groan in pain and collapse onto the ground moaning.

"Ward! Help!" I scream as more men dressed in black jump through the window.

One grabs hold of my wrists, I pull back sharply and he hits his face hard on the bed post, falling back onto the floor in pain.

The room door is swung open and Ward sprints in, looking at me.

"Looks like you've done well." He jokes.

I glare at him, Ward unlocks my handcuffs then clasps my hand between his. Mine shake against his steady hands as he pulls me out of the room, I grab the rucksack and pull it over my shoulders as Ward leads me down the corridor.

We race into the reception, then into a normal hall that has rows of benches with seats and metal containers of warm food. There are about 30 terrified people in the room, all in one corner and a group of soldiers are pointing guns at them. Parents hug their children as they cry. Couples say how much they love each other. Babies cry at the deafening sound of people screaming. More soldiers file in front of us, pointing all of their guns at us and staring with pure burning hatred.

"Hand her over now." One demands.

I pull my hood over my face and glance up at Ward. My heart beats in my ear, each beat an extra breath and it makes me more determined. Ward stares at them, the gun still in his left hand and his right squeezing my hand.

"Why?" Ward questions, straightening his back and standing stronger.

"We need her."

"Why?"

"Every thirty seconds you waste my time. One more person will be killed." The soldier shouts.

One of them grabs a young female, she screams and kicks against them as her family beg to let her go. He drags her in front of us and places the gun barrel against her temple. I see the pain and fear shine in her hazel eyes.