Never Forever

Chapter. 15

There was silence for a full minute, with me just staring at him.
"I don't want to." I say finally.
"If you wish for Tracker's survival then you will want to." He walks to the door then stops. "When you agree, go to the front desk and ask for my phone number." He grins and leaves the room. I seethe in my chair like a kettle about to boil over. HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SO STUPID??!! I jerk the chair as hard as I could in a rage. Just follow the cop, Jacey. I mock myself. Don't think about the stupid reason he pulled out to make you come with him. Don't think about how you could have just run or something. Asked more questions? I smacked my head on the table with a bang. Groaning, I lifted my head to footsteps and see Granger come back in. I glare daggers as he approaches. He pulls a key from his belt, looking slightly regretful.
"Why?" My voice is sharp and sudden. Granger doesn't respond, but instead, just unlocks my wrist. I leap to my feet and backhand him. He tumbles to the side, not expecting such behaviour. I follow right after him, grabbing his collar and slamming him against the wall with his butt still on the ground. "Tell me Why!" I scream in his face. He looks at me in pure shock.
"I didn't want to, but he made me."
"How?! How could he make you?!"
"He-he threatened my family." Grangers face was pale. I sigh and let go. He rubs his neck, eyeing me warily.
"Kill'em with their love." I mutter, getting up and walking out the door. Upon entering the lobby, I pause. Usually, people completely give up when they think they have no choice. Like Granger. He's a cop, and yet, he thought he had no choice. In the moment you'd think I don't have a choice. The thing is, I do. I could just walk away-And I have good reasons to do so. One, I hardly know Tracker enough to go through torture for his survival. Two, if he's Hunter's grandson, then he might have the same mindset as him. Three, he was doing something that he had told Kyle he would 'stop'. But now he's doing it again-And it involves a gun.
Coming to a decision, I go up to the counter and ask for Nick's number. Better that he thinks I'm 'in' then thinking I'm not and going all psycho on me.
I stomp out of the station, suddenly in a bad mood. I walk all the way back to my motorcycle fifteen blocks down that's still sitting in Crafts and flora. I got on and just sit there.
"A sandwich." I say out loud. There was no one around anyway. It was a dull neighbourhood. "I need a sandwich." Gunning the engine, I roar into the street and go search for a subway.
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Sitting by the window, I eat my sandwich. There was only one other person besides me in the small franchise, and he was sitting in the far corner with a hoodie over his head and seeming quite insociable. So I felt alone. Chewing thoughtfully, I stare out the window where it decided to rain. Where is Tracker? What if Nick was just bluffing and he actually didn't know where Tracker was? Why am I even wondering? Tracker means nothing to me. At least... I think he doesn't. I scowl at the window and take another bite of my sandwich.
I didn't know which way to go from here. I was just one girl in a world full of people. I had no one. No one to talk to. No one to hug.
A single tear trailed its way down my cheek. I didn't bother to wipe it away. Life was meaningless to me. Nothing mattered to me  anymore. I stared numbly out the window. I need to find a reason to keep living.
So absorbed in my thoughts I don't notice that someone had walked up to my table.
"You okay?" I snap my eyes up to the man in the hoodie who had been sitting in the corner and was now standing beside me.

"Tracker?" I breath. He smiles his easy smile down at me, green eyes twinkling from inside his dark hoodie. I couldn't help but smile in joy. He slides in opposite me.
"You look sad." He says softly. I quickly wipe my cheek in embarrassment.
"What's to be sad about?" I shrug, taking gulp of my water.
"Well I don't know. I can't read minds." Do you wanna? I wanted to ask. I'm sure Nick could work something out. But instead, I sigh.
"What have you been doing?" I ask. "Kyle was worried." Tracker looks out the dark window. Night was falling.
"You wouldn't understand." He says finally. I scowl.
"I might understand a little more than you think."
"How could you? Did Kyle say something?"
"No." I say immediately. "I'm just saying I am a little more understanding then you think. I'm not a stone."
"Really?" He gasps in mock disbelief. I roll my eyes. He chuckles.
"Please tell me what you were doing." I plead, dropping voice to a whisper. "I know it involved a gun." Tracker's face hardened. "I heard the cock of a gun when we were on the phone last time." I say hurriedly. His brow relaxes and he leans back, looking out the window. There was silence.
"I guess you deserve to know." Tracker says finally. I breath out. "But not here." He stands up, offering his hand to me. I take it gingerly, not sure why he wanted to help me up from a chair. But I guess he was just trying to be a nice guy. We went outside into the pouring rain. He hopped into the drivers seat of a red SUV while I got into the other side. We sat for a few minutes in silence as the rain beat on the windows.
"Now don't freak out and beat me to death for what I'm about to tell you." Tracker says finally, still watching the rain out the front windshield.
"I won't." I respond, not sure if he was joking or not. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his messy black hair before starting.
"My childhood was pretty normal. Ran around with a group of boys, went to school, did sports, played hooky. A lot." I smiled at that. "My parents were really easygoing and let me do whatever I wanted as long as I was back by eleven and didn't do anything illegal." He paused. "But... my easy life wasn't about to last.  One day my father took me out for shooting practice. When we were done and heading back, father told me about a couple of men who needed a good gunman. He told me that he used to work for them and they pay good. he said we could go see them right now. We drove to a crappy part of town where two tough looking men were waiting outside a plain white House. I was lead into a windowless room where they interviewed me. It was soon made clear what exactly I was going to shoot.
Human beings.
"I immediately didn't want to do it but I wanted to make my father proud, plus he talked me into it... I was only fifteen at the time and stupid."
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