Hidden and Silent (SpyxFamily)

Chapter Eighteen

"We're not safe anymore."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?!"

"Just what I said."

"A few more details would be helpful!"

"It's Father's fault."

"Well, duh! Got anything else to add?!"

"He wants us back home."

"I knew that much! Why?! He was leaving us alone before!"

"He has—"

"He changed his mind." Demetrius cut Anya's papa off.

"But Why?!"

"Um. . ." Demetrius deliberated.

Anya half-listened to Damian yell at his brother, passively aware of the activity in the car. She was glad for the subversion of Damian's attention, cause that meant she didn't have to deal with it. While being friends gave her some sense of ease, it was also disquieting. And Damian had been extra focused on her. It wasn't on purpose. He didn't even mean to think about her, he kinda just did. Anya chalked it up to his relief. Between getting kidnapped, nearly killed, and constantly wondering what was really going on, it made sense to her that he was happy to have the one person around who had been with him through it all.

Anya couldn't say it wasn't entirely unreciprocated either.

But she didn't know what to do with that feeling and preferred to keep to herself in the corner, quietly watching the scenery go by.

The urgency that her family had left their home with had been stressful. Her parents had flown around the apartment packing clothes, food, and basic necessities like a whirlwind. They zoomed around and Anya hadn't done much but watch on, fingers laced tight, muscles twitching, and frozen in place, wondering what she should be doing, feeling like she should be doing something.

And now in the car, she sat quietly with Bond at her feet. Waiting. Watching for what was next. Thinking about what was next and trusted that her parents knew what they were doing.

It was as her gaze was following the particularly tall tree in the distance as it moved backwards that she noticed the all too familiar sound of crackling and muffled jargling at the same time as Demetrius.

"Someone's following us." He said, using the opportunity to avoid Damian's questions.

Her papa nodded in acknowledgement, expecting this.

"Who is?" Damian sweat.

"Father's people."

"People?! As in plural?!" Damian turned around and peeked his head over the back of the seat.

"How many?" Anya's papa asked.

"Mm. . .three. But that's just who I can feel nearby."

"Can you tell where they are?"

"Six, Nine, and Two o'clock."

"Alright. . ." Anya's papa muttered to himself and turned his head here and there. "Hang on."

No sooner than he said it, gravity shifted.

Screeeech!

"Ah!"

Anya's papa swerved hard to the left onto another street, all of the weight seeming to fall to one side and tilt the car. Bond chirped in surprise. Anya fell into the door with a gasp and she clung to the handle. She was crushed into it, her body unable to lift away as if she were magnetized to it. Sometimes, sharp turns were fun like a gentler version of an amusement park ride, but this. Was not.