𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝

Chapter Eleven: A New Game

"Hello? I asked you a question?"

Dylan snapped his fingers in front of my face and looked at me with a confused expression. I blinked back into focus for a moment before facing my head towards the window again.

"Oh, don't be like that. Your little boy toy over there fell asleep and I want company," Dylan said. I could practically feel him smirking. Ignoring the sarcastic part of his comment, I turned around to see that Charlie was, in fact, asleep. Good, he should get as much sleep as he can, he'll need it.

"Well, maybe if you wanted company you should've been a little bit nicer and a little less..." I paused, squinting my eyes as I pretended to look him over, "you." I waved my hand around in Dylan's direction, who rolled his eyes.

"Since I'm the one driving this piece of shit car, I think I deserve something," he complained, still holding his smirk, but softening it slightly so that I could tell he was being more genuine this time. I could use this to my advantage.

"Well how about this, I ask you questions, and you answer them?" I asked. If I could successfully negotiate my way into some answers that would be awesome. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked back at Dylan who reluctantly nodded.

"So how do you know Thomas?" I asked. I leaned closer to him and placed my elbows on the console. He could probably tell how eager I was to finally rattle off some of the questions I had been burning to ask for a while now.

"Well, when Jack and I were younger we were taken to a training center for kids or something after our parents left. I was barely twelve and Jack was eight or so. We were alone and scared, we didn't know anyone and believe it or not I wasn't always this strong and intimidating. But, uh, Thomas ended up helping us. We became friends and eventually he came up with a plan for us to escape that place. I owe him everything," Dylan explained. A look of seriousness and determination passed in his eyes. I could tell he was telling the truth.

"So that's why you need to save him? Because you owe him?" I asked softly, not wanting to push him for answers. I could tell it was a sensitive subject.

"He's the closest thing I have to a family. My first friend, the first person to actually fight for me and Jack.".

I nodded, noticing the sincerity in Dylan's confession. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't slightly shocked that he was opening up to me and telling me about his life. Well, I did ask.

"Alright my turn," he cleared his throat and looked back over at me.

"Your turn?"

"What? You think I'm just going to answer all your questions for free without asking some of my own?" He smirked at me.

"Fine, ask away," I said reluctantly and turned back to face the road.

"Who's that?" Dylan's smirk grew even wider as he nudged his head back towards a sleeping Charlie. I furrowed my brow. What's that supposed to mean?

"Uh that's Charlie?" I responded, uncertaintly. Dylan rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"No, I know his name. Who is he?" he clarified, smirking back at me again.

"He's my friend. We've played tennis together every day since the beginning of summer. Is that what you're looking for?" I asked. My eyes scanned his face in an attempt to understand what he was looking for. This time Dylan laughed and shot me a smug look.

"Friends, huh? Does he know that?" Seriously?

I rolled my eyes at what he was insinuating and turned away from Dylan to face the road.