Potent Potential

Potent Potential - One - Bodyguard or Babysitter?

"I wasn't aware I had a time limit," I said lazily, strolling over to the desk. "What's required of me? It better be something important because I'm not in the mood to be pulled around to be asked to do favours for nobodies."

I ran my hand through my two-inch long, ink-black hair, making it stick up, my long nails massaging my scalp. Bringing my bare forearm close to my eyesight made me realise that my henna tattoos were fading, the swirling, dark pattern looking a little washed out. I wanted to get them done permanently but Ash, my 'guardian', wouldn't sign the permission form and wouldn't tell me why. Forging was out of the question since he practically lived at the tat parlour.

At the moment I had two henna sleeves done as well as a four leaf clover behind my left ear and the bow and arrow just below my right shoulder blade that I'd done to remind myself of the warrior I was to become. I loved the way my sleeve tattoos seemed to merge into my black singlet making it look all blended. Though I didn't wear this top for the sake of style, I wore it, and my grey elastic-sweats, for their flexibility as I kept mobile. I didn't own any impractical clothing. Unlike the doll sitting a few feet away, I didn't have time for social events where beauty was favoured over functionality.

"I got a call from Dim to call you over. You know how it is, do this and no questions asked. I'm just the inbetweener."

I rolled my eyes but I wasn't really annoyed. If Dim called, there was an important reason for all this. Dim worked on the Crimson Fog Council, the team who worked closest with Boey Laker, the big boss. Someone should be here soon to tell me what was going on.

Just as I thought this the door burst open and Kale Forsythe strode in with his usual exuberance. Kale was my sponsor, sort of like my mentor, teacher and boss at the same time. He was a Crimson favourite, meaning that he had the skill and experience to be the best at a certain talent. He was the gunslinger, one of the best shooters I knew, and slowly moulding me into his little protégé.

"I'm hearing little whispers in the corridors that you've already caused trouble this morning, Jax!" he bellowed. I was lucky, he was in a good mood. Otherwise he would have thrown something at me already, and he never missed. "Temper is unacceptable!"

"Says the guy yelling at me over something so minute," I muttered, loud enough that he could hear.

"I don't need no fucking cheek from you, kiddo!" He was already grinning. Kale knew that this was something he didn't have to get uptight about. He saved his fear inducing lectures for more serious matters.

"What's going on, boss?" I tapped a nail on the counter. I could sense the doll watching our interaction. I didn't know who she was but she needed to learn that it was rude to stare.

"You've been drafted," he said with a smirk. "As this girl's bodyguard." He nodded his head towards the doll.

"It's not necessary and I am expecting you to refuse." The doll, apparently my new 'body', spoke, her voice alluring. She had to be rich, to have had her genetics so totally manipulated. My parents, stupid as they were, had been wealthy enough to secure me with some advanced genetics, including skilful aim and focus, but that was all they could afford and they hadn't been poor.

"Well, hello, little girl. I'm sorry I didn't greet you earlier. I understand that your uncle is forcing this upon you and you're not okay with it. But you need to understand that I don't give a shit if Jax refuses. If I tell her to do it, she will do it." Kale made himself look bigger, which was really quite intimidating to people who didn't know him. I mean, he was already six foot five.

I sighed. I just wanted to get out of here and get to lessons but if this argument amplified, like I sensed it was beginning to, I could be here for longer than I could patiently wait.