the criminal // S.M.

16 // rose quartz

After staying at the warehouse for at least a week, it was finally time to leave. They had made special plans for our great exit.

As apart of this whole mission to get me across the country, we had to change our identities. Riley was now Audrey, and I was Mia. Being called by a different name was bizarre, but they said it was necessary so I went with it.

On top of it all, I now had short, black hair, glasses, and blue eyes thanks to the technology of colored contacts. Since nobody saw Riley, we didn't have to do anything extra to her besides cut her hair, for extra measures.

It was a bizarre sensation to look into the mirror and not recognize who you see, but you eventually get used to it.

Riley and I were eating breakfast in the kitchen area when Bullseye came and informed us that our get away cars were here. She finished up her Frosted Flakes and I scarfed down my oatmeal.

We walked through the maze of concrete beige wall to our makeshift home and gathered our things.

Only, when I checked my bag many of my things had seamed to disappear.

My cigarettes, my gun and it's bullets, my pocket knife, my money, and most of mom's jewelry. All gone.

"What the fuck" I whispered to myself. In a panic I reached my hand up to my collar to double check that my mom's necklace was still around my neck, and like always it was.

In a rage I slammed my back pack on the bed, storming out to find Bullseye when I ran straight into another figure.

"Watch the fuck out," seemed to slip out of my mouth.

"Whoa." The familiar voice mumbled bewildered by my tone.

I looked up, seeing those hazel eyes that belonged to Shawn. Of course, of all people in this facility I just had to run into him.

"Sorry," I shook my head and rubbed my forehead. "I've just got a lot going on, I didn't mean to be rude. Do you know where Bullseye is?" I said more frantically that I would have liked. I really need to get a grip, it isn't like myself to let my emotions get to me.

"I just left him with Judy a few moments ago upstairs in the meeting room, why is everything alright?"

"Someone took my shit." I scoffed.

"Oh, well, um," he scratched the back of his head in nervousness.

"Where is it," I demanded.

"It's not my fault! Bull told me to get it. I didn't want too, but you know how he can be."

"Look, I need that stuff. Please tell me where it is." I begged.

"You need a gun? What would you possibly need that for? We have amazing security and will keep you safe."

I couldn't help but letting out a small laugh. "I've kept a gun on me since I was 7 years old, there is no way in hell I am letting go of my own protection just like that."

He struggled to compose a comeback, so he changed the subject instead.

"The cigarettes? I doubt you need those." He crossed his arms as if he got me.

"I use them to de-stress. When the goings get tough I rely on them to keep my head on straight." I mocked his motions.

"And the knife?"

"I'm not going to explain everything to you. Everything in that back pack is very, very important. I left my house with one bag, don't you think I wouldn't put useless shit in it?"