Whitewashed

Next Time...

Next Time...

"Don't you get it?" Tommo hisses, giving Tats a swat on the chest. "We have to MOVE."

"Move?" the younger man essentially ignores the blow, his eyebrows drawing together almost anxiously.

To me, suspiciously.

I take a sharp inhale through my teeth as Haz pats at one of my burns with the wet towel. He murmurs an apology, probably concentrating on listening to the conversation more than healing me.

Honestly, I'm kind of okay with it because that's essentially what I'm doing too.

"You don't think SOMEONE out there sees THAT?" the bronze haired man gestures to the cloud of black smoke. "She's right. We need to leave and we need to leave NOW."

"But where will we go?" I let the question slip my mouth before thinking it through.

Both men turn towards me and I can see Haz shoot a surprised glance my way in my peripherals. Tats has a similar expression of astonishment, but Tommo's is set in its usual deadpan glare. However, as soon as his icy irises meet mine, he sighs and for a second- just an instant, I see vulnerability as he replies, "I don't know."

...

"Ozzie, trust me. I'll be alright," Haz smiles down at me, taking my hands in his so that they hang between us.

My grip grows tighter as I speak, "You keep doing that."

"What?" the edges of his lips quirk upward a little more in an amused smirk.

"Asking me to trust you," I clarify with frustration. "Then you go off to do these STUPID things and-"

"Just tell me you'll trust me," Haz cuts me off, pulling me into a hug. I refuse to reciprocate, but don't push away either. "You and I both know this is what I do best. I can't possibly lose."

"Please, you say that now," I let out a snort, trying to find humor in this humorless situation. "But what about when Romeo shows up and tries to kill you with a seven hundred pound motorcycle for wrecking his ego?"

My companion gives a small chuckle, resting his chin on top of my head, "I think I can take that pathetic sewer rat. I'll kick his ass before you can even blink! WITH one hand tied behind my back no less."

"Well guess what? I just blinked and you haven't kicked his ass yet-"

"Ozzie," he interrupts again, which I now know is a habit I'll have to break in him. "Tell me you'll trust me."

I turn my head slightly to look at the expanse of the race track and sigh heavily, "I trust you. There. Is that good?"

"Perfect," Haz laughs, stepping away. "Now how about a good luck kiss?"

"In your dreams."

"Haz!" Tats calls from his place near the starting line. "Get your ass over here!"

My companion looks down at me, his green eyes meeting mine. I suddenly wonder whose are greener. Mine? Or his? His voice drops to a low, almost disappointed murmur, "Looks like duty calls."

I can feel him tense. Not good.

"Ha, you said duty," I wink and watch his dimples reappear.

Haz takes one of my hands and gives my perpetually bruised knuckles a brief kiss, "I'll see you at the finish line, yeah?"

I suddenly spot a familiar head of blond hair and a dark, leather jacket near one of the bikes and a chill of fear and resentment runs down my spine. Romeo.