Stone Cold Killer

Chapter Three

Harry hadn't been in the room for few hours, leaving the girl cuffed uncomfortably to the bed. He wasn't angry at her, but at the situation she had unknowingly put herself in. The high school had been previously bug with hidden cameras and when he shot that man in front of her, she became a target. Why? Because she was a witness. Harry felt it was only right to protect her from the people that will be sent to kill her.

He sighed and struck his forehead on the bedroom where he stood before opening it. The girl's breathing sped up, catching in her throat, tears swimming in her blue eyes. Harry walked to the edge of the bed without a word and sat, the captured drawing her knees to her chest and pressing further from Harry. He smiled at her and slid up the bed to sit beside her, leaning against the headboard.

"I guess you need an explanation," Harry said as a conversation starter, "But you need to listen to it all and trust me". She nodded and sniffed, moving to the edge of the bed.

"First of all, I'm an assassin. But I only kill the bad people. Secondly, my name is Harry. I was assigned to kill Grayson Shaw, a serial killer hiding under a job of a high school cleaner. I had thought the person I grabbed was him, but it turns out it was an innocent student and when he came around the corner I had to shoot him. When you saw that, you were automatically put on a hit list. I'm going to help you and protect you from the people that will come for you. And believe me, they will come," Harry rushed out.

"What?"

"The school was bugged with hidden cameras. They're probably already looking for you".

"No, this isn't happening. This can't happen. I'm an A student with a bright future. I can't afford for this to happen," she rambled, clearly afraid.

"It's okay. I'll help you, just trust me," he told her soothingly, reaching over to stroke her back while she sobbed. Something about her made him want to help her.

"Ca-can you take the handcuffs off?" she asked.

"Yeah, just don't try to run away," he jokingly said giving her a smile and reached over with the key from his pocket, unlocking the cuffs and throwing them to the floor. She rubbed her wrist and started her army of questions. "What's your name?"

"I'm Dakota," she sighed. "What will happen if I leave?"

"I'll let you go, but you won't make it back to the school before you're killed and disposed of, then treated as a runway."

"How will you help me?"

"I will train you until you can take care of yourself, then you can do as you please," he said, stroking his chin in thought.

"Okay, help me then," she said calmly. Harry looked at her, wondering how she was feeling.

"You're awfully calm about this," he stated.

"The shock hasn't set in yet," she told him.

"Fair enough," he said rising and exiting the room with no goodbye. He wasn't expecting her to trust him so easily, or to follow him from the room. He walked to the lounge and she tugged on the back of his shirt.

"Yes," he said turning around.

"Can I shower please? Then can we go and get some clothes of mine?" she asked, looking shyly at the ground.

"Yeah, just go into my room and in the drawers there should be a stack of clothes. They're all too small, but choose from those for now," he told her, shrugging. She nodded and left, leaving Harry to his own thoughts.

He made his way to the kitchen, making a cup of tea while she showered. Ten minutes later he had finished and she got out, taking a few minutes to dress before coming out.

Harry looked up from the paper work on the table, his eyes settling on her. She was dressed in his black sweats, the legs rolled up a few times and an old purple hoodie that didn't cover his stomach anymore, but seemed the perfect size for her, the arms coming over her hands slightly, her hair tied in a wet pony-tail, swinging with her steps.

"Want some tea?" Harry asked. She nodded and stood, throwing the information on his next target on the table to make her tea.

She sat in his place, picking up the papers when he turned his back. He already knew she would look at them, so he didn't bother telling her no, but he was surprised the she acted as if he was a friend, walking around comfortably in his home. He placed a mug of tea in front of her, watching her jump when he soundlessly walk up behind her.

She held up the paper and looked at him as he sat opposite to her.

"Drake Nickels, 42, arsonist. He killed a couple when he found his wife cheating on him. Current job as a gun salesman," she read out. "Are you going to... kill him?"

"Yes," he shortly answered, taking the paper from her, a plan already forming in his mind. "When do you want your first session to be?"

"Is now okay?"

"Yep, let's get started, we're going to buy some training clothes first," he said grinning, picking up his car keys. Time for shopping.