He slams me against the wall, causing a groan to slip from my lips as my head collides with the hard surface.
"Tell me your name," he says his voice low, so low that I can feel it vibrate through my body. I feel the barrel press up against my temple...
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Crap!
Crapidy crappy crap.
I look over at the unconscious body sprawled across the floor regret hitting me like a pile of bricks in the face.
What the fuck Ella!
"Please don't be dead, please don't be dead," I chant as I crouch down on the white carpet placing two of my fingers on his neck praying he's alive.
A dead body was definitely not something I needed to add to my list of problems.
I let out a sigh of relief when I feel his pulse softly beating in a steady rhythm.
The vase surprisingly didn't break so I carefully place it back down on the table pretending as if I never touched it.
I am a criminal and all (at least that's what most people would call me, although I much more prefer the term badass but whatever works for you) but I still have morals...at least a little. And I know for a fact that this was the wrong move.
What the fuck do you even do in this situation?
I have a knocked out FBI agent next to me who caught me red handed about to rob his apartment, not to mention the fact that he knows how my face looks and my first name.
Hopefully being hit hard enough in the head can cause memory loss.
I debate on weather or not to knock him a second time to make sure his head is clear of any memories that I was here but that would land me in even more trouble if my plan doesn't work.
I take another glance at Aaron and I see how there's a cut on the side of his head, a small trail of blood dripping down the side of his cheek.
For fucks sake.
Quickly I sprint to the bathroom searching the cabinets for a first aid kit. I knew he wasn't going to bleed to death but I felt a little bad and I didn't want to get blood on his white carpet.
I sit down next to him crossing my legs before carefully placing his head on my lap. I move his dark hair away from his face before lightly dabbing the wound with a cotton ball.
He looked so peaceful underneath me, all the tensed up muscles in his face were softened and the furrowed eyebrows were relaxed making him look calm. His pink plump lips were slightly parted instead of the thin line they had been pressed into all through tonight.
I patch him up, putting on a little band aid before getting up from the floor and leaving the apartment and any evidence that I was there.
———
"Well it was about time!" Penelope's voice beams as I unlock the door. "I was worried sick about you Ella."
I step inside the colorful apartment, the unicorn onesie Pen was curled up in on the couch being the first thing catching my attention.
