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4 | 𝘽𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙍𝙊𝙊𝙈
After getting shot ten times, you eventually get used to the pain. The doctor that pulled the bullet out of my abdomen and stitched the wound up tried to convince me to be on pain medicine. Of course I declined, considering my low level of trust for these people, but I did let the doctor close the wound before I could bleed out.
Now, as I'm sitting up straight on the hospital bed, I'm basically waiting for my demise. I've knocked out their random guy at the front desk and Captain America, and I've stolen information from them. Even if I return the information, I don't expect them to exactly embrace me with open arms. I'd consider myself lucky if they just send me to prison. I'm mentally going through everything that will probably happen as I wait in silence, my baby sitter sitting in the corner of the room with his arms crossed as he stares at me. I don't recognize him, so I'm guessing he's a security guard. Even though his muscles are very apparent from his plain black shirt and pants and he looks like a tank, I've got to be honest, I'm kind of offended that the Avengers think that I can be contained by a singular security guard.
I glance over at the guy after a while of just staring at the wall. I don't even think he has blinked since he sat in that chair. Is he even alive?
"Do you usually get assigned to babysit nineteen year old girls, or is it just a hobby of yours?" I ask.
He blinks but doesn't respond. At least I know he's alive.
My head turns to the door when it opens. Tony walks in without his iron blasters and very expensive looking sunglasses on. "Thanks for keeping an eye on her."
The security guard nods and stands, unfolding his arms as he walks past Tony out of the room. With just the billionaire and I in the small space, I let out a long breath of air and ask, "So when's my court date? Or do I just go straight to prison?"
"Great question," Tony says. "But how about you come with me to the conference room, we're going to have a meeting."
My nose scrunches up. "A meeting? How about we just skip the whole thing so you guys can lock me up."
"This is why I don't talk with teenagers, they never listen," Tony mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just come with me, okay?"
I sigh and push myself off the bed, my hand hovering over my freshly stitched bullet wound. As I step towards Tony to follow him he looks ready to push me back into the hospital bed.
