The Killing Game

|12| are you a sofa? ✔

Edited | ✔

chapter twelve

a r e  y o u  a  s o f a ?

Ava

Sitting in the café, I blankly bring a cup of coffee to my lips and take a sip, the warm liquid washing down my throat leaving me slightly refreshed.

"Ava, are you listening?" I hear West's deep voice call me faintly, bringing me back to reality and the situation we are now in. As my brown eyes lock with his blue ones, he frowns. "Are you alright?" he questions.

Clearing my throat, I look down at the styrofoam cup that is clasped in between my two hands. "I. . . I don't know," I then pause and look back up at him. "I was just told that my best friend, that I had watched die, is still alive, leaving me no excuse as to why I hunt gang members to murder them. It's all a big lie," I explain monotonously.

He rubs the nape of his neck, him sighing in a defeating manner. "I don't know what to tell you."

Frowning at him, I zone out and take the time to admire his appearance. His brown hair is slightly ruffled, leaving it to look as if he had ran his hands through it several times. His blue eyes are pale and his face shows he is slightly stressed out. Overall, though, he looks really nice.

"You can tell me where she is," I whisper, my voice barely audible over all of the ruckus in the café.

He runs his right hand through his hair and after a couple of seconds in silence, he decides to answer. "Look, Ava, I am a gang leader and it's not safe to give you locations of my members. I don't even know how you got Kristoff's or Austin's in the first place─"

"She's my best friend, West," I state.

He frowns, clenching his jaw before slowly unclenching it. "She's obviously not a very good one considering she faked her death just to gain a higher ranking in the gang. She didn't care that she was leaving you behind; all she cared about was the title. I would just move on from her."

"I don't care what you think she did or didn't do. I want to see the best friend that I thought was dead for over seven years," I reply, my voice raising gradually.

He exhales out deeply through his nose. "Well, I'm sorry because I can't allow you to see her. I understand your situation but if she wanted to see you, she would have said something to me."

I grip the glass, white cup into my palms harshly before narrowing my eyes at him. "Why are you doing this?" I question incredulously.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Just drop it, Ava."

"No, I want you to tell me why you're making things so difficult on me," I reply stubbornly.

"No," he says.

"West─"

"I don't want you to get hurt again, okay?" he raises his voice at me, cutting me off on what I was about to say.

Raising my eyebrows, I look at him quite surprised by his confession and outburst. He shouldn't feel that way. I shouldn't feel the way I do about him. He's just some stupid guy that accidentally got caught up in my pathetic life. He deserves better than this. . . than me.