Nothing Left to Give *completed*

Nothing Left to Give - Chapter 15

You are not imagining this. This is real. AN UPLOAD!!! Believe it or not.

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Zack’s POV

Things spin a little as I open my eyes. Okay, maybe a lot. Objects zoom in and out of my focus in a way that makes me want to be sick. The sounds of civilization are muted, like someone shoved cotton in my ears. And, oh God, my mouth tastes disgusting.

I blink up at the young woman leaning over me, worry and caution warring for dominance over her face.

“Sir?” she asks hesitantly when she sees my conscious state. “Sir, are you okay?” I sit up, blearily running my hands repetitively over my eyes, trying to clear them of the fog. I manage a disjointed nod. “Do you need to go to a hospital? Were you mugged? Where are your clothes anyway?”

“I’m fine. I wasn’t mugged… I don’t think.” Actually, I can’t remember much of anything. I’m drawing up a big, fuzzy blank for most everything past Autumn throwing her shoes at me.

“And… your clothes?” she questions, her voice small and hesitant.

“Uh, long story. Sorry.”

She straitens up, obviously pretending that my nudeness isn’t disturbing her in the slightest. “It’s fine. I’ve seen worse. I’m a detective you know.” Her statement was so proud, that I’m guessing she is new to the job. “Detective Amelia Christen.”

“Well Amelia, I’m Zack and I’m unemployed,”  I lie, figuring I would rather be a bum than tell a cop I kill people for hire. I stand, brushing some gravel off my arms. “And I have to go.” I move to walk past her, but she throws up her arms in an attempt to stop me.

“I can’t have you going out there like that,” she tells me apologetically. I look down at myself. Damn. I keep forgetting that I’m naked.

“Ah, can you let it slide?” I ask awkwardly, “I have things to do.”

“And you’ll be doing it naked?”

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” I smirk, thinking of Autumn, knowing full well that she would mind. The detective blushes, looking away and fidgeting uncomfortably.

“J- just get in my car.” I shrug, and follow to where she leads me, sliding into the backseat of her small car. With a smile I tell her my address, or rather the address I will be claiming as mine until further notice. She pulls up outside the apartment, still blushing as she stops to let me out. Before she pulls away, she reaches out and hands me a car.

“In case anything happens,” she says shyly, “Give me a call.” I flash her one of my stunning smiles before turning away, ignoring the creeped out stares I get from people, still being naked and all, as I walk into the building.

More stares as I cross the lobby, and more as I mount the stairs. When I finally reach the door, I stand for a second before knocking.

A tall, African American woman opens the door, her unnaturally blue eyes widening in recognition when she sees me. Then her deep brown cheeks darken with a flush when she notices my state of undress. “Red’s not here,” she says quickly, her voice faintly tinged with a British accent.

I smirk at her. “But I am. You should totally let me in.” She stares, bewildered by my proposal, but steps aside so I can enter.

The guy sitting on the couch looks back and scowls a little, instantly making me feel welcome.

“What’s up dude?” I ask, trying to remain friendly while I’m being murdered by his eyes. An easy smirk spreads over my face, and the song “U Can’t Touch This” comes to mind. “Well, hello to you, too. My name is Zack, and yours would be…?”