Twisted

Twisted, Chapter Two

Author's Note: Thanks for all the awesome feedback on my first chapter! It literally brought a tear or two to my eyes... but then again, I was watching "The Notebook"  at home. Alone. On a Friday night. *sigh*.... Anyway, you guys know the drill! Tell me what you thought of this chapter (be rude, I don't mind) and I'll love you forever!

                                                                                                                                                          - Marisahbee 

P.S. I've uploaded a picture of Sloan to the right, for the readers without imaginations. <3

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  I'd completely forgotten I had a dead man in my trunk. I'd spent the last two months tracking the guy down, taking care of his bodyguards, and managing to get a bullet between his eyes, but I forgot to turn his body in. And collect the bounty, of course. 

  Talk about prioritizing. 

  Just as I was about to turn the car around, my phone rang. "Ugh," I mumbled, recognizing the number. 

  It was Sloan, my... well, I didn't really know what he was to me. A partner-in-crime, I suppose. He was also my ex. Kinda. We were never really exclusive. 

  Pulling over into a small clearing, I flipped it open. 

  "Yeah?" 

  "Hey, where are you?" he asked, sounding just as carefree as ever. 

  "Out," I answered, almost immediately. "What's it to you?" 

  "I need you to pick me up," he replied, sounding a little ashamed. "I'm just south of Portland, on route thirty-six." 

  "Why don't you just walk home? You're not far away," I told him, trying to keep the edge off of my voice. 

  "Don't tell me you're tired, Kamille," Sloan said. I could almost picture him running his fingers through his black hair in frustration. "You would've jumped at the chance to see me at this time a month ago." 

  Needless to say, his arrogant remark pissed me off. "If you're so sure about what I'd do for you, why are you walking home tonight?" I asked, not waiting for an answer before hanging up. 

  Serves him right, I thought.  

  I continued on another ten minutes before realizing that I'd be merging onto route thirty-six to reach my destination. I'd literally be passing Sloan by to drop off the corpse. 

  I had half a mind to do just that, but when I happened upon him, I stopped the car and got out. 

  I spied Sloan sitting on an old tree trunk, whittling away at a piece of bark with one of his knives. He looked up at me, his steely gray eyes narrowing. "Going my way?" he asked, a wide grin on his lips.  

  "Just get in," I replied, keys in hand.  

  "What, you don't wanna know why I'm out here in the wilderness?" 

  "Sloan, I really don't give a damn what gets you in the forest in the middle of the night," I answered. In the back of my mind, I wondered whether my car would ever be the same again. All this small talk was a waste if time; if I had blood stains all over my trunk, it would be his ass. 

  Sloan, obviously ignoring my indifferent attitude, continued. "I was out looking for that drug lord we'd been assigned... Marco Polo, or something. Anyway, I tracked his posse all the way here, got rid of a couple of his guys, then they just disappeared. Weird, huh?"