The next evening, at precisely 9:00 pm a black sedan crawled along the road and drew up outside my house. I was watching from behind the curtain, a tiny slither for me to see out of. The dark tinted windows weren't letting me see anything, but I could feel the menacing gaze that came from within.
BUZZZZZZZ
I wrestle my phone out of my backpocket, and click answer.
"Are you packed?" The terse answer growls in my ear.
"Yes." I make no effort to engage in conversation.
"Well say your goodbyes, if I were you I'd just leave a note." The phone clicks off.
I hoist my gym bag over my shoulder, careful not to make to much noise, as my mother was down stairs. I gently lever the window up, I silently thank myself that I'd oiled the hinges last week or there would be a hell of a racket. I drop my bag onto the ground below, and begin climbing down the ivy outside my window.
My house is around 400 years old, as most are around here. The ivy is strong, and on many previous occasions, mostly involving Anna, I have managed to climb down here without falling.
But just my luck! I grab a piece of ivy, but it pulls away from the wall making me lose my balance. I'm flailing around trying to grab onto another solid piece. My room is on the third floor, and let me tell you. It is a long. way. down. I do not want to be falling from up here.
Finally I manage to find a hand hold, before my legs give out. I carry on climbing down to the ground, and reaching the bottom jump lightly down onto the balls of my feet. I swoop my bag up in one fluid motion and jog towards the gate. I jump over it and slow my pace to walk to the car.
I hear the slow whir of the window going down. I catch a flash of sunglasses and a cruel face.
"Get in."
I walk round the car, and open the passenger door and sit next to a man with the baddest attitude I've ever encountered.
"Tom," I manage to grind out this small greeting.
"Arran, I see you haven't changed a bit."
Tom is a six foot four wall of muscle and power. Instead of hair a large black tattoo curls its way around his head and down his neck; dripping like black blood. And his blood certainly is black, along with his heart and soul. This man has done some unspeakable things in the time that I've known him. There are rumours that he is a hired assassin going round, and I do not want to be on the receiving end of a sniper rifle.
"Nor have you" I reply sarcastically.
We drive for around an hour and a half; in silence. No radio to break the tension, nothing. I swear to god for most of that car ride my stomach was doing backflips, waiting for him do something crazy like punch my in the face or stab me in the eyes with a stiletto knife.
At 10.30 pm we finally roll down a winding drive, which resembled more of an overgrown track. Up ahead I could see bright lights breaking through the trees. The car followed the large arc of the road, coming up behind a large farm house. The other cars there were expensive. Five Range Rovers, three BMW X-5's and many saloon cars. What ever Jim was planning, he sure had a lot of cash to splash out.
The farm house on the other hand, looks derelict. Crumbling outside walls, broken gutters, boarded up windows and ivy was basically covering the whole thing.
"Out," Tom orders.
"Yeah," I answer, "Get up on the wrong side of the coffin?"
"Whatever man just get the hell out of my car"
I have just enough time to clamber out of the car and grab my bag before he promptly revved his engine and sped of back down the drive, leaving me biting the dust.
I turn in a slow circle taking my surroundings in. Middle of nowhere; check. No phone reception? Check. I groaned and started to look for a way in, as it was nearing to 11:00 at night. I slowly pad forward, careful not to cause to much noise. But I'm sure with Tom's dramatic exit, that who ever was here, knew I was too.
Walking round the building I notice a large pond is in the front garden of the house. I say garden, but it's more like a jungle. Weeds everywhere. Obviously Jim's 'Secret Training Facility' doesn't have time to get a gardener. I carry on walking when all of a sudden the bright flood lights switch on, and I hear movement coming from behind me. I barely have time to cry out before I'm tackled to the ground. Something is pressed over my nose, and I inhale a choking, bitter smell. As I draw another breath my vision grows dark around the edges, and the last thing I see is a pair of bright green eyes, looming above me.
~~~
AN
Oh no! What's happened to Arran!
Find out in the next chapter!
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lots of love Tolly 🔥
YOU ARE READING
The Burning Girl
Action"Where the bloody hell has she gone." I hear someone scream. "Tom!" That must be Jim, I thought. Getting closer to the edge, I can hear a scuffle, someone thrown to the floor and another pinned against the hood of the car. The tension in the air co...
