Not Quite The Same (Hiatus)

Chapter Seven

Four days. 

It had been four days since the Asset escaped. 

He hadn't stopped moving. 

Always driving on.

He only stopped to grab some food. 

He didn't have money so he stole. 

He could blend into the background well. 

No one saw him. 

They barely noticed the missing food. 

He had also changed into the gym clothes. 

They were a lot more comfortable than the assassin's garb. 

When he put the clothes on, he had tried to patch up the bullet wound in his shoulder. 

The other injuries could wait. 

He had used a torn off piece of his old shirt to stop the bleeding best he could. 

He had simply tightly tied the cloth around and over the wound. 

He rode all night and all day. 

He never stopped.

He had to get to California. 

To Beacon Hills. 

To Lydia. 

It would take a while. 

He had found out where he was. 

Columbia, South America. 

He had apparently taken a plane last time he went to California.

He didn't have a plane this time. 

Only a motorcycle.

The Asset glanced down at the gas milage gage. 

He would have to get more gas soon. 

That might be a problem. 

He was on a highway.

Multiple cars were passing him. 

He kept his head down. 

He might have been an assassin who hid in the shadows but his face was well known.

All those failed missions. 

He failed those when he had first started completing missions. 

He didn't fail missions anymore. 

Not until Beacon Hills. 

Not until Lydia. 

What was it about her? 

What made sense about her to him?

What was it about Beacon Hills? 

Something about them both just felt...

Right. 

He had done so much wrong, he knew that. 

To have something feel right was odd.

He wasn't used to it.

He liked it, though. 

Everything about him was wrong. 

His memories. 

His arm. 

His past. 

All wrong. 

To have this one right, a right in a million wrongs... 

It felt good. 

He had to go find her.