Shadow Girl (Ongoing)

Chapter 10

I wake at 8:00AM the next morning, which is sleeping in for me, and complete my morning routine of 10 laps around the park, breakfast, hygiene and tidying. It's 9:00AM when my routine is done and I return to the bathroom to inspect my face. There is a purple-black wound wound forming on the right side of my jaw. I wince as I try to dab onto it a little bit of concealer. 

The memory comes back to me as to how I've acquired my new mark. Jason Murale is the name of the FBI hot-shot who feels the necessity to assert his authority to new agents on the field. We were training how to deal with situations in which fighting was inevitable; Apparently, even the FBI techies are trained in fighting. Murale thought it necessary to give me a special one-on-one lesson. His reasoning being that I was the smallest and therefore needed the most training. Hence, my jaw. 

But I don't mind. If anything, I feel a renewed sense of ambition. 

I sit on my desk and pull up the computer file with the list of tasks from Simmons that I need to complete by the end of this weekend when a realization hits me. There was more to yesterday than just my training.

Donavan. 

I pull my phone out from my drawer and see that I have thirty two missed calls and fourteen messages. Scanning through them, they're all from a worried Samantha. 

That's odd. Samantha doesn't usually ask about my whereabouts. 

I pause at the last message, which is not from Samantha, but from an unknown number. 

It reads:

Good Morning, Karate Girl! Dropping by at 10, I come in peace and bring donuts as proof!

I smile at my phone at his text. I think I hurt him pretty badly; I'm surprised he finds humor in it.

I look at the time, 9:30AM. I consider my options. I can hide in my apartment, and not answer the door. But he's proven skillful in breaking in, which I still have to prod him about. I can go out and really not be home. Or I can...

Why am I thinking of escape routes?

Despite the fact that he broke into my apartment, Donavan has been pretty nice to me. And he says he broke in out of concern; I believe him. 

"I used to think you were the prettiest and smartest girl in the whole school...I still do"

I shake my head, trying to erase the memory, and feel my cheeks warm up. 

Why does that make me feel so...nervous? 

Remembering how his gaze lingered on my bruise, I decide to go to the bathroom and reapply concealer on my face. It doesn't hide the ugly purple completely, but it drastically lessons its ugliness. 

The doorbell rings at 10:05. Sure enough, Donavan stands in my doorway, holding a box of donuts and looking sheepish. His dark brown hair looks artfully messy and he's wearing a plain olive green t-shirt that shows off his broad shoulders and toned chest, and dark jeans. 

"Hey," I greet.

"Hi," he responds, walking in. "Did you get my text?" 

"Yeah. Thanks for the heads up." 

He lays the box on the dark brown coffee table, then straightens. "I was beginning to think I had the wrong number. Samantha and I tried calling you all day yesterday," he looks at me, his eyes full of curiosity. 

"Oh I just saw those. Sorry about that. You guys really didn't have to-"

"Worry?" He completes my sentence, smiling a little bit, but it doesn't look genuine.