I woke up wrapped in the thin white covers and Joey's muscular arms. His head rested beside mine with his chin on my shoulder. His stubble felt prickly on my skin. Memories of the night before danced through my mind in a mess of loud, pleasured sounds and damp, sweaty sheets. We hadn't called it a night until almost three in the morning, and it had taken me an extra hour after that to finally fall asleep.
The sun was beginning to rise, shining through the window, and I could hear a car alarm going off outside. From my spot in bed, I could see the pinkish-yellow glow of the sunrise through the clouds. I groaned and covered up my head with the sheets. I wasn't just tired. I was exhausted. My eyes burned and I felt so sluggish, like I'd just worked back-to-back twelve hour shifts with no breaks.
Joey's quiet snores helped to relax me back into a comfortable, half-asleep state. He moved in his sleep, wrapping his arms tighter around my body. His firm chest pressed against my back and I felt protected. I felt safe.
My peaceful state didn't last as long as I wanted it to, though. No matter how hard I tried to fall back asleep, I couldn't. Memories of the previous few days haunted me. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing his face. The hitman. The man in the black Cadillac.
I slapped my cheek in attempts to make myself snap out of it. It didn't work. I felt like my brain was fighting with me. I wanted to run and hide from my thoughts but there was nowhere I could go. I couldn't get away. There he was in my head.
If one of Richard Lux's goals was scaring the hell out of me, he was definitely succeeding. I wanted to change my identity and disappear.
Feeling restless and needing some fresh air, I slowly begun to sneak out of Joey's warm embrace. I tiptoed to my bag of clothes and threw on a sweatshirt and jeans, and double checked to make sure Joey was still asleep before slipping out the door as quietly as I could and heading down to the lobby. If I timed it right, I could be back before he woke up. He'd never know I was gone.
I sneaked out to the portico, a heavily crape-myrtle-decorated area. There was a tiny yellow butterfly fluttering around one of the plants. I watched it in envy. I longed to have the freedom that that tiny insect had. It didn't have to worry about armed men chasing after it. It didn't have to worry about school and work, or stress, or not getting enough sleep, or those damn student loans that would take me decades to pay off. It didn't have to deal with a crazy ex-lover. It didn't have to experience drama at all. How lucky could one creature be?
Get a grip, Jess, the voice in my head said. You're jealous of a fucking butterfly.
I plopped down on a small wooden bench to the side of the double doors. The early morning breeze was moderately chilly. Realizing the burner phone was still in my jeans pocket, I pulled it out and stared at it. I missed my own phone. The one I left in my apartment. No doubt someone had gotten to it, along with my computer. I imagined my apartment completely destroyed. What would my landlord think? I briefly wondered what Mrs. Simpson had done if she'd happened to be home when the ruckus began. Surely, she would have had a thing or twelve to say about someone breaking down my door and barging in my apartment. It would've disturbed her reading, or one of her cat's naps, heaven forbid.
Staring at the phone in my hand, I thought about all the people who had to be wondering where the hell I was. I thought about how pissed off my boss was that I'd missed several days of work. She would probably fire me, if she hadn't already. I thought about my professors who were probably failing me since I hadn't turned in any work, taken my final exams, or attended any classes. I thought about my grandmother who had undoubtedly repeatedly contacted the police and probably all six of the local news channels. She was probably stapling missing person posters to telephone poles right that moment.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/61071291-288-k394978.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
The Assignment
RomanceWhen protection and passion collide. She can run, but she can't hide. Jessica Turner tries her best to blend in. You'd think she's the average B+ Psychology major whose life revolves around decorating her small Boston apartment and never having enou...