I sat in the passenger seat cradling my legs on the seat. The sky was dark and roads were wet from the light rain. I watched as raindrops trickled down the window. Sighing I looked over at Peter.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked uncomfortably.
"My apartment, I have to stop by and get a few things," he replied glancing over at me awkwardly. I pursed my lips and looked ahead at the road.
"Who do you work for?" I asked tapping my knee.
"The FBI," Peter replied.
"So you know why my aunt and uncle were killed?" I asked looking over at him. His eyes glimmered softly from the street lights. He shook his head.
"I know just as much as you do," He answered. I scoffed and rubbed my face.
"I mean who would do this? Everyone loved them. Come on, you have to know something? You were the one who answered the phone?" I added anxiously as I faced towards him setting my arm on the dash and leaning towards it.
"Look, I have orders not to tell you anything, and for you not to tell me anything, okay?" He said sternly. I sighed and slouched back in the seat crossing my arms. Staring out the window I thought about how quickly my life changed. Everything changed.
We walked into an apartment as I looked around at the modern interior. Peter set his keys on his kitchen counter and turned around facing me.
"Give me your phone," he said rummaging through his pockets. I furrowed my eyebrows and scoffed.
"No" I said bluntly.
"I don't have time for this, I need to make sure you weren't tracked," He replied annoyed. I sighed and pulled my phone out my pocket placing it in his hand.
"There's extra clothes in the closet, furthest bedroom on the left, change and grab clothes for a few days, we leave in two minutes," He said walking towards the living room. I ran my tongue along my teeth and turned around walking to the bedroom. Before walking in I glanced back at him and caught gazes as he awkwardly looked at me before turning around. I walked into the room and opened the closet door. There was a ton of women's clothes hanging up. Why? Is he married? Dating someone? Weird. Grabbing some shirts, jeans, and jackets I shut the closet door and changed into leggings and a sweatshirt. My eyes led to a large array of newspaper articles on the wall.
"My best friend the traitor"
I furrowed my eyebrows and quickly flipped around as footsteps walked in.
"You ready?" Peter asked.
"Yeah," I said softly. He handed me a duffel bag as I shoved my clothes in there. Looking over at his badge on the desk I studied the words. White House.
"You work at the White House? You said you were FBI?" I asked unsteadily.
"I am. I work in a tiny windowless room in the basement," He said. I nodded slowly.
"I want to go somewhere. Maybe a police station or something," I said crossing my arms.
"No, we don't know what's safe, we don't know why your aunt and uncle are dead, or who killed them, okay?" Peter responded. I sighed and stared at him.
"Well then what the fuck am I going to do? I have no idea what's happening and I don't know anything? Fuck this!" I said angrily.
"Look I know, I know you're confused. We don't have time for you to trust me and believe me I don't know much either, but I do know my orders, to protect you with my life, and I'm going to do that, I swear," Peter said firmly. A wave of relief washed over me. I looked up at him and sighed.
"Okay?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I shrugged affirmatively.
"Let's go."