British Exchange Agent

Chapter 13

Hatrov stared into my eyes as he twisted my fist and drew out his gun.

I quickly stashed my phone in my pocket and brought up my other hand to slam down on his wrist. He twisted my hand further and I gasped. His firm grip denied me any freedom to escape.

Hatrov unlocked the safety and pointed it at my head.

"Any last words?"

I met his eye dead-on and gritted my teeth, the pain searing through my arm.

"Cliches disgust me."

He chuckled and shook his head slightly.

"You always were a funny one."

I tried to slow my racing mind as I stared down the gun's barrel.

Whack!

I kicked my leg up and sent the gun flying out of his hands, taking him by surprise. I used the opportunity to send a punch to his jaw, causing a crack to ripple through the room.

Hatrov hissed and blocked my next kick, diving for the gun. I wrapped my arm around his neck and yanked him backwards, before stomping my foot down on his. I twisted his leg and flipped him over, grabbing the gun.

My heavy breathing echoed in the room as Hatrov sat up, spitting out some blood on the floor and glaring at me murderously. He shook his head as I pointed the gun towards his forehead.

"You wouldn't shoot me."

I cocked my head to the side, eyebrow raised.

"And why's that?" I questioned him, my voice glacier.

"You don't have the guts." He chuckled darkly.

"Who says I don't?" I hissed. Hatrov's eyes bore into mine as he sat on the floor, watching me walk backwards, the gun still on him.

"You can't run from me forever Kayla." He said, his tone ominously still. I stopped dead in my tracks, facing him dead on.

"What do you know about me?" I whispered, my voice shaking. He simply stared at me and I tightened my fingers around the gun.

"Answer me!" I shouted, my hands now trembling. His voice sounded hollow as he spoke. Empty.

"The question is, what don't I know?"

Hatrov never once tried to stand as I shivered, watching him. He never once broke our gaze and I went to leave the gun on the counter.

"Keep it." He told me, his voice low. "You'll need it more than me."

I stumbled away from him, holding on to the gun as he closed his eyes, resting his head against the metal fridge. I left through the window silently, heading down the street towards Aaron's house.

"That's two guns now." I muttered to myself, my pace fast, fuelled with anger and confusion.

Who was Hatrov?

My breaths came out in heavy pants, and I stopped, running a hand down my face. My mind was swirling with information, almost like I was trying to put a puzzle together without most of the pieces.

I let out an aggravated growl, flicking the gun's safety on. An elderly man eyed it worriedly and scurried past, muttering about teens underneath his breath.

Mexico. Thursday. Cyrus.

I began to formulate a plan in my mind as I began to walk again. Tomorrow Dereck would arrive in Arizona - ready to meet Cyrus. Trying to take him down would be too risky. No.