My Little Girl

Chapter Two: Familiar Voice, Familiar Girl

Once we landed, the female grabbed my good arm and smiled at me in a friendly manner. "David Ryder, I'm Catherine. If we go to more closed quarters, I can remove the bullet for you and properly stitch the wound." She offered. Aside from patching me up, all I knew about this woman was that she gave me blood money and was hired to pick me up for doing the dirty work the Government had asked to be done. "What is this "closed quarters" place you speak of?" I questioned. She scoffed as if I had offended her. "Well if you must know, Mr. Ryder, I was talking about my house. I have the medical supplies there necessary to help you and that boo-boo of yours." She explained. I didn't know if I could trust her, but I knew I could handle whatever trouble was thrown at me so I accepted the offer. Her eyes lit up happily like she was a child who had been given a new toy. I took the time to study her face. Something about her seemed oddly familiar. I feared to know why I felt that way.

Catherine ordered for me to follow her and together we walked on the black asphalt into a parking lot. The cloudless sky above allowed for the moon's reflecting light to illuminate the woman walking in front of me. I slightly smiled as I automatically thought of my wife... "You always did love the moon, Alice..." I whispered softly, my voice low and trailing off into the still night. Catherine must've heard me and turned around looking a little worried. "Did you say something?" She interrogated quietly. I felt a bit embarrassed and shook my head no, walking ahead of her to avoid any other possible questions.

Catherine removed the keys from her pocket and unlocked one of the only few cars in the lot. "Shotgun." I joked as I glanced towards her. She giggled a bit as I walked around the car to the passenger side. Opening the door, I situated myself onto the leather seat. The blonde haired woman got into the car as well and eventually roared the engine to life. Soon enough, we were on the road. 

"So tell me about your family." Catherine demanded. She was crossing a line here. She should know that people who are in my line of work should never reveal any sort of personal information and no way in hell did I trust her enough to tell her anything truthful. I knew I had to keep my cool and lie. And especially the fact that you should never reveal your legitimate family members to someone you don't trust. "I have a beautiful wife and two handsome sons." I lied. She looked at me, searching for any hint of fabrication. I wasn't sure if she'd believe me or not, but as far as she knew, my word was absolute. I stared at her with a blank face, making sure she couldn't suspect anything false in my words. "Alright. Sounds plausible. I'm sure it's a cute family." She eventually gave in, turning her attention back to the road. 

An awkward silence filled the car. I finally broke the ice when I questioned her, "What about your family?" Her eyes grew empty as the ends of her mouth curved down. "I uhh... I don't have a family." Catherine answered, hesitating a bit. I observed at her, wondering if she, too, was lying. "Are they... deceased?" I pressed further even though I knew I shouldn't have asked to begin with. Catherine turned to face me once more. The illuminated light from the moon shined on her face, making her more attractive than before. "I'm not married and I don't have any kids." She voiced sternly. It cleared any of the skeptical thoughts in my head. Something about her words told me she was indeed telling the truth even though a part of her probably wished the truth wasn't so. But I raised my eyebrows in response, showing my surprisal by the information of her being single.

I opened my mouth to say something but closed it when bright headlights entered my peripheral vision. I quickly turned my head left, noticing the giant commercial truck headed for us. Acting hastily, I grabbed the wheel and swerved us out of the path of the eighteen-wheeler. Catherine, wide eyed, shakily gripped the wheel. As soon as we were out of harm's way, Catherine pulled over to the side of the road. We both sighed of relief, feeling the adrenaline pumping once again through my veins. We were both quiet, too shocked to say anything. The rest of the drive, Catherine nor I dared to speak. 

After about ten more minutes of complete silence, she pulled into a cement driveway. I got out of the car and studied the house. It was a fair size for a single woman her age, nothing too special or eye catching about it. "Shall we go inside?" Catherine offered, already halfway down the driveway. I hesitated, taking into consideration what could go down in her house. She rolled her eyes. "I won't bite. I just want to make sure you get that wound fixed. And from the sounds of it, it seemed as though the hospital wasn't an option. I thought this would be a better alternative." She further explained and after several more moments, I nodded. We stepped inside her humble abode and nothing was surprising or out of the ordinary about it. Her walls were bare of photos. The furniture was clean and the only photo in the room she had was located on a small drawer. She had no indication of having kids or a husband which matched with her story.

"I'll get the supplies. Make yourself at home if you can." Catherine announced as she walked into the hall. I decided to sit on the couch, feeling the intensity of the pain increase. The adrenaline rush I had earlier was well beyond gone. Removing my black long sleeved shirt, I place it next to me. Gentle footsteps began to make their way towards me and Catherine appeared in the hall. "I've got everything I need." She informed me as she set the supplies on the coffee table in front of the couch: Large tweezers, rubbing alcohol, some stitching thread, a needle, a small towel, a clean bandage, clean gauze and a small pot. She removed my bloodied bandage, patting away the blood with the small towel and pouring alcohol onto the tweezers. "This may hurt." Catherine whispered softly. Impelling the tweezers into my skin, I gripped the couch tightly as I groaned. Gritting my teeth, I could feel the tweezers penetrating deeper into the surface. "Almost got it..." Her soft voice emerged from behind my ear. Time seemed to slow down as I tensed up. I couldn't remember the last time I had to get a bullet removed out of me. "Relax. It'll come out quicker if you do." I breathed in slowly, trying to calm my heartbeat. Soon enough, she pulled out the bullet. "At least it's out." She mentioned, placing the bullet onto the coffee table. Unable to reply, I simply nodded. 

Catherine began pouring alcohol onto the gauze. She pressed the alcohol filled gauze against the wound and I winced due to the pain. "I'm sorry..." Her apology was drowned out by my groans. Pulling away, she grabbed the stitching thread and needle. "I'll be quick about this." She told me, inserting the needle and creating a couple small stitches to close the wound. I hadn't stopped gripping onto the couch, thinking I would ruin the fabric with how tightly I had been grasping it. Catherine cut the thread and admired her masterpiece before wrapping my arm again with a bandage. "The hardest part is over." She comforted me. Breathing in deeply, I was relieved the pain had somewhat began to subside. Catherine gathered her things and walked into the next room over. "So... How's your daughter?" She wondered aloud.