Assassin 2.O

Things Have Changed

Mitch's POV

I lost track of time as I held G close to my chest, letting her sob. Once I finally felt her calm down, I looked to see her eyes were red and glossy. My heart sank when I noticed that she wasn't looking at me. She wasn't looking at anything.

"Come on," I whispered. "You should get some rest."

I stood up with my arms still wrapped around her. We took a few steps before her legs gave out, a sob getting stuck in her throat. My heart sank when I heard her struggle to stop her sob. I leaned down and gently picked her up bridal style.

"I've got you," I whispered as I carried her to her room.

I walked down the hallway towards G's room without crossing paths with anyone else. I looked down to see G had fallen asleep as I stopped outside her room. I got her door open and gently laid her down.

* * * * *

The next morning, I went down to the kitchen but stopped in the doorway when I saw G sitting at the counter. I cleared my throat before walking in and getting a cup for myself. I leaned against the counter across from her as I drank my coffee.

"Thank you," she said suddenly.

"What?" I asked, looking up from my mug.

"For last night," she said still not looking up. " I wasn't. . .in my right mind and. . . ." She cleared her throat before finally looking up at me.

"You saved my life. Thank you."

I simply nodded, not knowing what else to say to her. She watched me for a second before looking back down at her mug.

I couldn't help but watch her. Her tense shoulders, the bags under her eyes, and the bruises on her body. Even drinking her coffee she seemed like a girl holding the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"I didn't used to be like this," she said so softly I almost missed it. I watched as her eyes glossed over. "I used to be normal, like you before the beach. I had parents who loved me. I had friends. I was happy. . . It's been so long since I was happy," her voice broke as she put her head in her hands.

Before I could stop myself, I walked over and sat next to her. I hesitated to reach out and comfort her but decided against it. She ran her hands through her hair, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"My mom was murdered right in front of me. I couldn't stop it. It. . . It was my fault."

"I'm sure that's not true," I stuttered.

My breath got stuck in my throat as she shot her head up and glared at me. "Just like how it's not your fault your fiancé was killed?"

Her eyes softened as they filled with tears. "I'm sorry," she instantly apologized. "I'm so sorry, Rapp." G sobbed as she put her head in her hands.

"You're right," I said softly. "I blamed myself for a long time for what happened to her. I wish I could say I don't anymore, but I still do a little."

"There's a difference between you and I," she sighed. "You aren't the reason your fiancé was killed. It was a terrorist attack that killed your Katrina. My mother was killed protecting me."

"What do you. . ." I started to ask, but stopped.

"One night, back when I was twelve, I was supposed to be asleep. I was up late reading when I heard some men downstairs. I should've stayed in my room," her voice broke.

"When I walked downstairs three men were standing in the kitchen, all with guns, talking to my mother. They were all pointing their guns at her. They heard me and instantly pointed the guns away from her and at me."

She choked back a sob as she stared straight ahead. "They pulled the triggers," she sobbed. "She jumped in front of me. She hit the ground before I could even scream. Then I. . . reacted."

"Reacted? What do you mean you reacted?" I asked, not wanting to push her.

"My dad used to keep a gun hidden in a vase by the stairs. When I left my room, I grabbed it. The second my mom fell to the floor, I pulled the gun out and killed them. All three of them. Then I ran."

"Hurley said he found you trying to steal his car."

"Yeah," she sighed, finally breaking her exterior with a small scoff. "I was on the run for a little over a month when he found me. I was so scared. I lost my mom, I had just killed three men. I didn't trust anyone. But then Hurley came around and told me he could help. He promised that he wouldn't let anything happen to me. He promised he would help me not be scared anymore."

"He started training you."

"He made me stronger," she said, her voice going back to normal. "He built me back up. He made me what I am."

"Don't you. . . Don't you miss how things used to be?" I asked after a moment of hesitation.

She slowly looked over at me, her eyes filled with tears. "You can't miss what you don't remember."

* * * * *

I was in a training session with Hurley when suddenly an alarm started to go off. He looked at me and gestured for me to follow him. We ran to his office, passing many other men running through the halls.

"What's going on?"

"We're under attack. We need to get out of here. Now," Hurley yelled over his shoulder as we ran through the doors to his office.

I stood in the doorway as he reached for something under his desk. I easily caught the gun that he threw at me (thanks to G always throwing things at me). I started to turn on my heel but stopped when he grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.

"You need to find G."

"What?"

"Find G. Get her to safety."

The look in his eyes wasn't the look of the soldier Irene told me about. It was the look of a father concerned about his daughter.

"No matter what happens, I need her to be safe. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir."