A Little Bit Ninja

34: A Semi-Public DTR

A/N: This is the third and final part of the "final chapter" that I have been posting faithfully every night. If you haven't read the previous two chapters, please do so before you read this chapter. You will be missing vital information if you don't. Otherwise, you're free to read, or not read whatever you want. lol

“I think I see a bad guy at six o’clock,” Millie whispered.

This was normal procedure for hottie sightings, but this one wasn’t going to be a potential boyfriend. Erica and I barely turned our heads, looking behind us from the corner of our eyes. Walking against the crowd, he was easy to spot, especially in his suit. Nobody here would wear a suit unless they were hunting a certain group of teenagers, and hadn’t known they would be going to a Paramore concert.

They must have already found the van. We just needed to get out of here and find another car to take us home before anybody recognized us.

“Hey!” The guy helping us yelled, pointing at me, “Aren’t you that billionaire’s daughter who disappeared at a Bieber concert a couple weeks ago?”

Chapter 34: A Semi-Public DTR

“Ssssssshhhhhhhhh!” the six of us hushed him simultaneously.

The other loafers heard his outburst and came over to check out the situation. I glanced behind me to see if the enemy in sight had heard, but he continued combing the crowd closer to the stage.

“Dude, how much for the hat,” Anton repeated much more forcefully than he said it thirty seconds ago.

The guy shrugged, “I don’t want to sell it. Besides, there is a butt load of money with my name on it when I report where they are,” he pointed to me and Abe, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Don’t be dumb, bud. You’re mistaken,” Anton’s voice held a warning, but the guy snorted at him.

“Oh it’s them for sure,” he said, ignoring Ant and smirking at me and Abe.

“How do you know?” Abe asked, spoiling any chance of the guy believing that we aren’t who we are.

“Dude, your dad has been all over the CNN with videos and pictures of both of you.” 

I cringed inwardly, at the attention dad was drawing to himself, and consequently the danger—namely the friggin’ mafia—he was attracting. I also couldn’t help but feel some relief that he hadn’t just put in a missing persons report, and then gone off to work. He loved us enough to take some time off.  

“Anyway, he better be good for that five hundred million he’s offering for you two. I could really use a new phone,” he said dialing the fateful three numbers that could mean the death of my family.

What if the mafia had infiltrated the emergency response people too? Or, the police that would come get us—how would we know if we could trust them? And if I made it into my dad’s custody the mafia would hammer him to the ground. If there was one thing I figured out in the past two weeks, it was that Olegushka wanted me for something, and he wanted me bad enough to abase him-self. He would stop at nothing to get me back.

My dad’s best chance of getting through this unscathed was if I stayed away from home.

The guy’s finger hovered above the send button, but Anton dove across the table knocking the guy to the ground before he could punch it. His strength, aim, balance, and brain function must have improved rapidly in the past half an hour because he had almost no trouble overpowering this guy. Of course, he did have more room to maneuver than he’d had in the van, and the victim probably didn’t know any martial arts.