Jinxed

Chapter 3

A/N: As always, feedback is appreciated!!

Chapter 2-

"Why is he late?" I questioned under my breath. I placed my bags on the ground beside me before taking a seat on the grassy forest floor beneath me. Pulling out the blue folder from my bag, I read over the information again with a sigh. My mission was clear, I was to act as a bodyguard to the sons of the Logan family. Everything else in the folder was vague. For example, It stated that the Logan's obviously needed protecting, but from who and why they needed protection in the first place was never mentioned. The information on the sons of the family was incredibly specific. Things such as appearance, age, school levels, IQ's, hobbies, favorite foods, clubs, and so on were all listed with great detail but; there was no mention of who exactly their parents were. The folder states that their family owns the Price Company, an internationally known toy brand. The company was run by the boy's father who married into the Price family and took over the company in place of his wife. The real mystery was his wife- A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my trance and I looked up to see the small boy I'd been waiting for. His messy brown hair peeked out underneath his teddy bear hoodie and his blue orbs stared into my own with a look of confusion.

"Your late, pipsqueak." I scoffed before shrugging his arm off my shoulder. Standing up from the ground, I stretched my limbs while the boy grabbed my bag before slinging it over his shoulder. The boy said nothing, though it wasn't as if I expected him to. I sighed deeply before looking away from the kid.

"Was someone picking on you again, Trace?" The fact that I used his name caught him off guard as his head snapped up to look at me in surprise. I refused to make eye contact with him and instead chose to keep facing forward. It was silent before Trace eventually dropped his gaze in defeat, letting out a silent sigh.

"Listen kid, I've told you before that you need to learn to fight your own battles. I'm not going to go beat up a bunch of brats for you. Frankly, it's a waste of my time." I scoffed. Trace nodded, continuing to look down at his sneakers.

"That being said, if I were you I'd do something about it before it becomes a problem, understand?" Trace wasted no time lifting his head to nod at me with a determined expression. His moods changed so easily it was hard not to find him entertaining.

"Here's the folder, you can read it on the plane ride." I placed the folder into his bag before zipping it back up.

"Apparently our new 'team' will be waiting for us at the Logan residence." I scoffed at the word team but otherwise tried to keep my expression and tone emotionless. Trace gripped the bags around his shoulders tightly before leading the way out of the forest and to the airport.

'Team?' Trace signs to me with lowered eyebrows. I pursed my lips, a bit surprised he was signing to me. It wasn't something he did often. Most of the time, he just chose to stay silent, communicating with vague gestures and facial expressions.

"Yeah. I've been demoted to a blue folder job as punishment for harassing First yesterday." Trace squinted his blue orbs in distain. Obviously unhappy with the demotion. "Tell me about it." I sighed, agreeing with his silent discontent of the situation. "Of course, this means we've also been assigned to work under a team of low levels." Trace stuck out his tongue unhappily.

The eight year old turned his head slightly to face me before putting his index finger up to his chin and signing, 'Really?' I nodded glumly, silently answering his rhetorical question.

"To make matters worse, the family were guarding has four sons, all of which we're to protect from some threat that isn't mentioned in the goddamn folder." As I spoke, we reached the edge of the tree line. Trace stepped onto the concrete, before proceeding to remove the leaves that had fallen into his hair from the trek. I followed after him, brushing off any dirt from the bottom of my jeans. Trace finished before I did, and he turned to face me with raised eyebrows.