Coded.

Chapter Eight:

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Adaline is passed out on the couch by the time we get in the door, she lays downstairs on the couch with the television on; it’s a random documentary no wonder she’s asleep. I can’t help but laugh though, she got herself cleaned up for bed; she’s cute with her little elephant pajamas on. I end up carrying her upstairs and tucking her in.
    “Goodnight Adaline.” I say. I don’t expect a response but a faint “goodnight” echoes back; my back is turned to her but I still smile slightly as I walk away. I decide before heading downstairs that I want to wash up and get changed; I guess it’s safe to say i’m really not a preppy girl but I do have class. I rinse the makeup off my face, looking up from the sink I meet my own gaze; a small bruise formed on my temple yet it’s barely noticeable. I sneak back downstairs Liam must’ve gone because it’s empty down here, so I lay on the couch and take the house phone; I type our names into the search engine and sure enough they come up, looking around I switch the view to 3D. A small screen pops up in front of me with a replica of the page on our home phone.

Daily News:
    -Three taken in kidnapping yesterday, said to have been in a Black 72 Latrianna.
    -Missing: Adeline Foster, (7) and Nicolette Foster (16), if seen please report the exact appearance, and location to Archangel Police force immediately.

“Great.” I sigh. They even provided pictures of us, although they’re crappy school pictures from last year; it sucks they even have pictures of us. I hear Liam's footsteps behind me, and he kisses my cheek. He briefly stares at the screen, then back to me.
“It’s protocol.” He says softly.
“You’re supposed to be hiding us!” I say irritated.
“Who do you think took your case?” He shoots back.
“Why would you do that? I ask gently.
“Nic, I have the case. I get to do the digging, that means if I find no evidence… The case is closed. I’m doing this to keep you safe.” He replies.
“You know i’m not coded! Why, you could turn us in and get a raise or maybe a reward.” I say slightly.
“My job could be on the line if they find out i’m taking you in, my life could be taken from me for doing so and yet I still am helping you.” He sighs. He has a valid point yet i’m too stubborn to admit it.
“Look, at least realize i’m getting you under the radar; we can change what you look like easily and then you’re free to live the life you’d like.” I think about Adaline and his statement, I can never have the life i’d like... I’ve lost too much.
“Fine.” I sigh. I’m not fighting anymore, if he was going to kill me; he would’ve done it a long time ago.
“Let me ask you a question.” He says.
“Shoot.” I reply. He hesitates for a moment, then continues.
“If I held a gun to your head and told you to trust me, would you trust me not to shoot you?” I laugh at the question but his expression remains serious.
“Why would you ask me that?” I say.
“Trust is a weird thing, answer the question.” He says sternly.
“I’m in between. “ I say seriously.
“I wouldn’t trust you not to shoot me, but I don’t think i’d care if you did; I’m not afraid of you.” I say stubbornly.
“Why?” He waits for a while before he gets a response from me, I advert my eyes but then look back up at his.
“You never gave me a reason to trust you, I mean I don’t really know you.” We make eye contact yet again.
“Let me do something as myself then.” He says and kisses me softly, once again that feeling is recreated. He touches my chin with his hand and grabs my waist but I push him back. His eyes widen and he quickly replies, “I’m sorry.” I feel myself blush and cross my arms over my chest defensively.
“It, it’s fine.” I reply.
“It’s getting late.” I say softly walking up the staircase. He nods and takes his shirt off revealing a scar on his right breast, it’s barely visible considering a small tattoo covers it.
“What’s that?” I say calmly, he smirks at me.
“When you trust me i’ll tell you.” I roll my eyes but he knows my curiosity is raging at this point. I find my way to my bedroom and try to cry, to alleviate the pain and yet nothing. Nothing happens. Not a single drop, that’s all I want; a single teardrop. Nothing. Thoughts race through my head again and again, nobody is here, nobody cares. It’s probably a good thing too, nobody will be able to understand me. I muster up my strength and neatly put my things away, then head downstairs. Liam hypothetically would be asleep by now so I should be able to have the downstairs to myself. Just like I expected, so I take a seat at the island in the kitchen. I can’t feel anything so I run my hand along my arm hoping that i’ll sense something.
I was wrong. Okay time for plan B, I take a small sewing needle and poke my skin.
Still nothing. My heart sinks and I silently lay there on the island. I hear the patio door open and close quietly, I look up and sure enough there’s Liam. I quietly pull a book from the pile in front of me and pretend to be intrigued.
    “Hey Nic!” His voice slurs.
    “What are you doing?” He asks.
    “Oh me? Just enjoying a book.” I say nicely, he sits down in front of me and looks into my eyes. It wasn’t until now that I catch it, I really can be oblivious I guess. His eyes are a soft blue with a hint of purple highlighting the blue. He’s been drinking. The people of Archangel found it ludicrous to wait until 21 years to drink so they changed the law to anyone above 13 years of age. Meanwhile, to help reduce accidents from being under the influence... Eavahnte created a chemical that’s nontoxic and isn’t flavored to determine whether someone was drunk. When the eyes appear a different color other than the color of it’s users eyes; that’s when they realize the user is drunk. It’s useful, most try to get by but fail to realize their eye color is conveniently located on their driver's licence.
    “I’m going back to my home tomorrow, just to grab a few things.” I say.
“No, That isn’t safe.” Damn, you could say a lot about him as a drunk but he sure isn’t dumb.
“I’m going back.” I say yet again.
“You aren’t going back!” He raises his voice at me.
“Fine, go to bed and i’ll talk to you in the morning when you aren’t drunk.” He gets up and kisses the top of my head.
“Okay, sweet dreams.” He must be a happy drunk. I think to myself. He turns back from the top of the stairs.
“You can't go back there anymore. It just isn't safe.” He yawns and walks into his room. I make my way to the stairs, I open my door and lock the inside. I turn to my window knowing exactly what to do.
“I never said I wouldn't go.” I say, and carefully wiggle my way out the window.