THE GIFTED

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8

THIRD PERSON POV

Raven stared at the jet in front of him in shock. He had heard Dr. Roberts mention it a few times, and even that kid Harley Lydia keeps around, but he hadn't actually seen it yet. How does she have a jet?

Nevermind, she had enough money to let Gabriel shop without limits, so she obviously is well off.

Is she wanting to have a Russian inside of her, in the jet? Didn't they call fucking in the sky something? Like the sky-high club, or blue sky club?

"No, Raven, we aren't joining the mile-high club," Lydia says, a blush covering her cheeks as she waits for the door to open, his mind was apparently as dirty as she thought it was. His thoughts were quite obvious if the tent in his pants had anything to say about it.

"But we will soon, da?" Raven asks, tilting his head sideways as he smirks at her, knowing that he was getting her flustered.

Groaning under her breath she practically sprints up the stairs, the sound of his laughter following her.

Inside the jet sat two men, one of them chubby side of things with brown hair and a happy charming smile. The other with blonde hair and almost bulking muscles. Both were drastically smaller than Raven, who stood about a head taller them both and... well was much larger in general.

Happy was not shocked at all when he got the text message an hour earlier, instructing him to grab the Captain (like the captain would just listen to him) and get both of their asses down to Charleston.

Of course, with no other context, he immediately assumed that one of these mates, most likely the rude condescending one that he had spoken to on the phone days prior, had harmed her. So he obviously called Steve and told him what he suspected.

This is what consequently lead to the Captain body slamming the giant Russian that followed in one of their favorite red-heads, back out the jet. And down the stairs. And onto the ground.

Lydia stood with her mouth open, watching with wide-eyes as Steve, her godfather, and Raven, her Russian, go at it with fists and all. Both men continued to exchange blows. Steve hitting Raven in vital areas as he twirled around him like he was in a battle with the worst of enemies. Raven attacking Steve with coordinated militia like movements.

"I promised your Dad I would protect you. That means even if I have to call the cavalry in on your mates." Happy says, laying a hand on Lydia's shoulder.

Nodding slightly, Lydia freezes as she catches a key term in his words, "Mates, you called the cavalry on my mates, plural."

Happy looked at her confused, nodding at her, "Well yeah, I assumed that was why you called with such urgency. And demanded Captain come. That is our keyword for someone is trying to hurt you and you can't get away."

"Wait, it is?" Lydia's eyes widen, dread filling in the pit of her stomach. She just wanted to share her idea with them!

"Yes, it is! Did you forget or something?" Happy asks, his own eyes widening like he realized he probably shouldn't have assumed.

"Yes! We established that when I was a kid! That was ages and an apocalypse ago!" Lydia snaps, letting her head fall back as a groan falls out of her mouth.

"Steve! False alarm! Stop beating up the sexy Russian guy!" Happy yells, rushing down the stairs of the jet, only to trip half-way and tumble down the rest, landing on Steve and Raven.

"Dear lord, this is what the world relies on when the apocalypse starts." Lydia groans, turning her back on the scene and stomping back into the middle of the jet.

Her phone was in her hand in seconds as she flipped through her contacts, decided that Owen would most likely be the best person to call in the situation. Something told her that she wouldn't get any answers from Gabriel between his cussing and screeching if her gut was right. Which it normally was. Dumbasses. All of them were, to put it bluntly, so grounded.

"Are you associated with a red-headed assassin and a whole league of people wearing black suits that fancy shooting guns?" Was the first thing that rang through the speaker, not even a greeting, as Owen answers the call.

"No Owen, I was simply calling you because I felt the sudden need to discuss consuming laxatives and eating Taco Bell afterward," Lydia snaps, rolling her eyes as she dramatically, very dramatically drags her hand through her hair.

The sound of shooting, screaming, and Morgan out-cussing Gabriel suddenly cackles through the speaker followed by a simple, "Well, Darling, that would be absolutely idiotic if you want your bathroom to survive the first few hours, but be my guest. In the meantime, tell Mr. Raven to remember our summer camp five years ago and the location that our two team retired to afterward."

"Get off the fucking phone with our soon to be mother-fucking-grounded drama queen trouble-causing mate and drive before that bitch drives up our asshole, Blackbourne!"

The phone cuts out, the sound of the call ending making Lydia groan once again, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a glare she flicks her eyes to Happy, who slyly smiles like he knows she would be chewing his out later.

"Captian, call Natasha and have her get off their ass. Raven, we are taking the jet to the place you fucking dumasses went to after some kind of summer camp five years ago. Happy, write down every single possible warning code that we have establishes in the past eighteen years. FRIDAY, order that new book Morgan wanted real quick, set the timer for the bomb in my new car for ten minutes, and please order Chinese to be delivered at the location to Blackbourne team retired to five years ago after a summer camp."