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Chapter 6

"You're never gonna let me live that down, will you?" I sighed, hanging my head.

"Of course not," Devon smirked.

"Come on," I groaned, "We kissed. Now we're friends. Just leave it."

"Don't tell me you didn't feel anything," Devon pointed with a raised eyebrow.

I froze for a moment then shook my head. "No, I didn't," I lied.

"Sure," Devon smiled.

"What's with you and not believing me?" I asked.

"You've never given me any reason to," He sighed.

"Way to make a girl feel special," I snorted.

"Thanks, I took lessons," He smirked.

"Well, I need to get to bed. I have my job interview tomorrow," I sighed.

"Working at Click's requires an interview?" He laughed.

"Yes, it does, thank you very much," I growled.

"Well how are you getting there," He asked.

"Walk, of course," I answered.

"You're gonna walk a mile and half in this crazy New York weather?" He snorted, pointing towards the rain beating on my window.

"Yeah. Got a problem with it?" I laughed, rolling my eyes.

"I do actually," He said quietly.

"You what?" I asked.

"I don't want you to get sick," He said softly.

"You're... worried about me?" I asked, in shock. No one's ever been worried about me before. My mother didn't care if I came home or not. Why would Devon care?

"Yeah, you could say that," He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Then.. I'll, uh, bring an umbrella?" I offered. How the heck do you fix the whole worried thing?

"No, no. I can drive you," He smiled faintly.

"What? No, you don't have to do that," I said, shaking my hands.

"I want to," He assured.

I looked towards the window, watching the rain, then sighed and turned back to Devon. "Fine, you can drive me."

"Awesome," Devon grinned.

I laughed and threw my pillow at him, "No get going. I need sleep."

"I'm going, I'm going," He chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

After Devon was gone, I curled up in my bed and wrapped myself in my sheets. I yawned and closed my eyes, drinking in the sound of the rain from outside when I heard a loud crash. I jumped up and bolted into the living room, searching for the source of the noise. I ran to the front door and found that the window beside it was smashed. I whirled around, grabbing my pocket knife that I kept hidden under the lamp and wielded it in front of me like a sword.

I considered calling out to whoever had come in but decided against myself. What would they say? 'Hey, I'm in the kitchen. Where do you keep your mayonnaise?'

I tip toed my way back to my room to find my phone, still holding my pocket knife, and slowly pushed open my door. My window was open now. I sucked in a deep breath and pushed the door open wider. I stepped into the room, my heart beating like a drum. I heard a click from behind me and a deep voice spoke out.

"Don't move. I don't want to hurt you," Said the voice. I hid my pocket knife in my front pocket and pulled my shirt down over it, concealing it before turning to face the man. He was roughly 6'7 and wearing all black, including a mask. He had a gun pointed at me, his hands shaking. He wouldn't shoot me. That I could tell.

"Sir, It's okay," I said softly, putting my hands up. "I won't call the police if you just go."

"No!" He shouted, "I'm not leaving yet."

"What do you want? I don't have any money," I pointed.

"They always say that," The man growled.

"So you've done this before?" I asked, glancing towards my phone, which was charging on my side table.

"What do you care?" He asked in a shaking voice.

"You have a gun pointed at me," I laughed, "I have reason to question."

"Well don't," He snarled, taking another step towards me. I took the opportunity to take a step back, inching closer to my phone.

"Listen, I really don't have anything here," I said, "I'd give you whatever you wanted if I actually had anything you'd want."

"Do you live here alone?" He asked, ignoring me.

My eyes flickered to the sketches of my mother on the wall and I nodded. "It's just me."

"Good," He said, taking another step towards me and I took another step back.

"Stop moving," The man growled. I stood my ground as he came closer an closer, pointing the gun at my head. One he was close enough that the gun was almost on my forehead, I smacked this arm to the side. The man let out a shout, his finger slipping on the trigger. I felt a burning sensation in my right arm but ignored it, gritting my teeth.

I grabbed my phone and pulled my pocket knife from my jeans, kicking the man's gun across the room. I held the knife to the man's chest as I dialed 911 with my other hand. I quickly told the operator my address and situation before hanging up and turning my attention to the intruder.

"I'm sorry," The man whispered. "I just wanted to feed my daughter."

"Hey, no hard feelings," I frowned. Was it natural to feel really bad about this?

"Are you alright?" The man asked, looking at my arm.

"I'm fine," I sighed, not looking down at the wound. I knew it wasn't that bad but I hated blood.

I heard sirens from outside and sighed, not able to make eye contact with the man I was holding a knife point. The police climbed in through the broken window and met me in my room, taking the man in handcuffs. An ambulance arrived to take me to get my arm checked out and I followed the nurse out to here truck. I hopped into the back of the truck and the nurse looked over my arm.

"Is there anyone I can call for you dear?" Asked the woman.

"Yeah actually," I said and gave her the number. She handed me the ringing phone and I held it up to my ear.

"Hello?" Devon answered.

"Hey," I said quietly.

"Natalia? Who's phone are you on?" Devon asked.

"I'm on an ambulance phone," I sighed.

"A what!?" He shouted, "What happened? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Devon, calm down!" I laughed, "Meet me at the hospital. I'll explain everything there."

I hung up on him and handed the phone back to the nurse and she smirked at me.

"You're boyfriend must really care about you," She smiled.

"Oh, he's not-," I started then stopped myself.

"Yeah," I smiled, "I guess he is."

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