Escape

Chapter 15

"We're about to land, Blair," Someone whispered. The warm breath tickling my eyes open. The first thing I noticed was bright green orbs staring at me. The wrinkles adorning the eyes and the long lashes shying on his face. Brian's face stared back at me. His pink lips curled in a smile.

"Hey," I whispered. He moved to give me some space. Stretching, I eased my sore neck. The awkward posture I slept in left my muscles taut and stiff.

"Want?" Brian passed me a cup of fresh coffee. The aroma clearing my senses. I took the cup and whispered thanks. Sniffing the coffee I looked outside the window of the plane. The sun brightening the beautiful interiors of the aircraft. The warm glow of the sun eased my worries that started to creep up in my heart.

"It's not gonna be the same anymore," Brian said from beside me. I turned around to look at him. The side of his face reflected the sunlight from the window. " Not like home," He added.

"Why do you call that place your home?" I asked.

"Well, I have lived there for as long as I remember? It's the only place in this world that I feel safe in," He replied. He tilted his head towards me, our face was so close that I could feel his breath on my face. My eyes drifted to something on his forehead. Lifting my fingers, I brushed his hair from his forehead without my brain registering what my body was doing. A scar revealed itself. I looked down at his eyes and asked a silent question.

"That happened on the day our parents died," He said, taking my hand that hovered above his scar. Intertwining his fingers through mine like we have done a lot of times before. Like it was a normal thing to do.

I looked down at our connected hands and felt the warmth run down my body.

"Reckless kid I was, tried to show off a new bike move, lost balance, hit my head on the pavement," He said his eyes clouded, reminiscing the memories. "Picked up my bike and started to walk home, my hand cupping my wound. Fear crept in my heart that my mom was going to scold me again for being irresponsible," I saw tears starting to well up in his eyes. I squeezed his hand, trying to console his still broken and vulnerable heart. "Never knew that there was no one now to scold me," He completed. A tear slipped from his eye. Lifting my hand I wiped the lone tear. My hand brought him back, the fogs in his eye cleared. Clearing up his throat he sat back straight. When he looked back at me, I saw that his wall was back up again and his vulnerable self was gone.

"Only a few days after, I was brought in by the organization," He said. " Since that day I have been part of this," He turned his head away, " Since then, I grew up with just one thought," When he looked at me again, I saw his eyes go dark, his expression turned scary, intimidating. "I will stop at nothing to bring those motherfuckers down."

********

We stepped down from the private jet, warm air of Florence greeted us. Stepping down, the six of us including Miranda and Dean walked towards the two cars parked a little away. The windows tinted, not allowing us to see inside of the cars. As we neared, both the driver stepped out from their respective cars. They nodded their head in acknowledgement to Miranda and Dean. Without another word, our luggage was loaded, and we sat down inside the car. Micheal and Miranda with me and the rest in the other car.

"How far is the organization?" Micheal asked.

"About an hour or so," Miranda replied without turning back. Sitting in the passenger's seat she drifted through some papers. Hearing this, Micheal got comfortable, reclining his seat, he leaned, brought up his injured foot and then he dropped the weight on my lap.

I looked at him with my one eyebrow raised.

"What? You dropped that brick on me." He said with a grin on his face. I resisted the urge to push his leg away. Adjusting myself, I balanced his leg so it's weight wouldn't hurt my wounds, since it was still not fully healed.