His Lovely Delinquent *EDITING*

3. Intruders *EDITED*

Chapter Three

Blake

My aunt told me we were having dinner. At Noah’s. Tonight.

 Okay. Just no.

“Do we have to?” I whined, not telling her why I didn’t. I know Noah’s a good guy…I think. He’s famous and completely drool-worthy. But I wasn’t about to jump into that pool without first testing out the temperature of the water.

If I went tonight it would go against the rejection I offered him early on. His ego would boost and judging from how little I knew him…his ego wouldn’t just boost. It would sky-freaking-rocket.

“Blake,” she sighed, “It’s just dinner. Elijah Hunt was your Psychiatrist. He helped you out a lot. Don’t you think it would be lovely to mingle?” she asked nonchalantly. “Besides, he has a nice son. You wouldn’t know him but he’s known as the Golden Boy. Oh, if I were young I’d give that a shot!”

Too much information. This woman wasn’t even paying attention to me! “Auntie L, I’m tired. School wore me out and I haven’t been around people who weren’t going to attack me with needles or straitjackets sine Juvie.” Plus, I have no interest in that pretty-golden-boy.

She sighed, “Don’t be absurd, Blake. They never put you on a straitjacket.”

I pouted. “They could’ve. You never know.”

She rolled her eyes. “But they didn’t. Now put on something pretty and come down stairs in about thirty minutes. We have some company before we head out.”

“Company?” I raised a brow.

 “Company. You’ll find out later.”

Helpful.

I was making my way down the stairs when I heard hushed whispers. One thing I’d always learned was not to eavesdrop. But two names rung inside my head that told me I needed to stay.

“She can’t be kept in the dark forever, Linda.” A disapproving male voice said. “She’ll be eighteen soon and they’ll think that she has the information they’re looking for.”

“But she doesn’t!” Aunt Linda hissed, “she’s just a child. She went to high school today, met a boy and did her homework when she came home. Let her be normal.”

“That girl will never be normal. Years of Juvenile Detention does that to you.” The man sighed. “She needs to find out soon. Her life is on the line. Letting her become ‘normal’ in your sense will get her killed.”

“Like hell it will.”

I gulped. Were they talking about me?

Duh. My conscience replied.

No. I refuse to talk to you who is me.

Idiot.

“Blake!” Aunt Linda’s voice called. “Come down here, I need you to meet someone!”

I nodded to myself, took deep breaths and made my way to the sitting room. All the lights were turned on and Aunt Linda was sitting in all her pristine glory opposite to a big, burly, white-haired man.

“Who are you?” I asked. He was wearing suit and the fact that he was talking about my life being on the line made me scarcely nervous. “Are you from the SIS?”

He raised a thick brow. “I’m sure you’re asking if I’m from the CIA? SIS is a secret organization from James Bond’s MI6.”

Drat. “Whatever. So are you?”