The Silver Fighter | ✓

Cam Is Dead

"Grace?" John said my name once more, narrowing his eyes.

'SHIT.' I cursed in my head. 'How am I going to get myself out of this? Think, Grace. Think.' 

I bit my cheek in thought, but even then, I knew there was no way out of this situation without either killing John and hiding his body in the dumpster behind me or telling him the truth. And as appealing as the first option sounded, I knew that the latter would have fewer consequences.

Or so I thought.

"What just happened?" John asked carefully and I ran my hand through my hair exasperatedly.

"You're smart, why don't you tell me?" I replied absentmindedly, my brain still racing as I paced back and forth.

He arched a brow. "Was that a compliment?" He inquired and I rolled my eyes at the evident smugness in his tone.

"Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Feel free to think that, though." His lips quirked and I saw him trying to hide a grin.

"You're being extra mean today." He noted with a gleam in his eyes. 

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm always like this; you're just extra sensitive today." I muttered and clamped my eyes shut. I groaned frustratedly and ran my hand through my hair some more, just about to pull it out.

'What the hell am I supposed to do now? It's not like I've had someone find out my secret before. What am I supposed to do now? Chuck him in the boot and kidnap him to shut him up?'

"So, you know now." I thought aloud and he nodded. "Yet you aren't surprised." I added and he nodded again. "Why?" 

He shrugged haphazardly. "I've always had my suspicions." I raised an eyebrow and he clarified, "You're pretty skillful for a total newbie. Way too skillful." I raised an eyebrow as a grin split on my face.

"Anything else you'd like to tell me you've noticed, Sherlock?" I asked, amused. He nodded.

"I'll admit, your disguise was clever, but you didn't hide the scar on your lip or the one on your cheek." My eyes widened as I remembered the scars that are on my face.

One of them is on my bottom lip and it's less than a centimeter long. It's thin and pale and most people don't see it which is why I was surprised he saw it. And recognized it. The second scar is on my left cheek is horizontal and also thin. Both were caused by a knife in a fight where you aren't allowed to have weapons, but obviously, that arsehole didn't get the memo.

Both scars aren't noticeable unless you get very close to me which is why I was surprised he pointed them out. I wasn't expecting John to actually pay attention to small details like that. 

I gave him a begrudging look. "I'm impressed. Nicely done." I told him flatly and he grinned.

"Thank you. Your compliments are much appreciated." He said, mocking my British accent. I laughed and punched his shoulder.

"Don't let it go to your head, Wilson." I muttered and sighed as I looked back at the men on the ground. 

'Whoopsies.'

"So, what are we going to do with them?" John questioned and I looked at the walls around us. No security cameras. 

'Good.'

"We say they jumped us, spoke about mugging us, then we defended ourselves." I said simply with a shrug. John gave me a look and I chuckled.

"What?" I asked and he still gave me a face.

"It's scary how quickly you came up with that." He declared and I rolled my eyes.

"Oh please. Anyone would have come up with that." I stated with a flippant wave of my hand. "Now," I sighed and walked next to him, "can you act?" He smirked.

"How do you think I get away with going to the ring?" He asked rhetorically and I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, Brad Pitt. Let's go before you start quoting Fight Club." I muttered and lifted my hands to my mouth and I shrieked shrilly, "HELP! HELP PLEASE!"

~•~

After getting the help of a few very nice civilians who called the cops, John and I made our way to my house after the police hauled are Remi and his lackeys to jail. I opened the front door and like clockwork, Coop launched himself onto me. I fell to the floor, laughing freely. He licked my face, barking happily.

'Just what I needed. My boy.'

I let out a sigh and nuzzled my face into his fur, taking in his familiar scent. 'Breathe. In and out. In and out.' I repeated over and over in my head. My brain was still freaking out over John finding out.

This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. 

'Someone's found out my secret and it isn't going to be long until someone else does. Or until Bertinelli comes for me and thus putting John in danger.'

I gulped at the thought of Bertinelli: my sworn enemy who has ripped EVERYTHING from me. And now he wanted to have a Round 2. 

His goal this time being ending me, not just my mum.

'Oh joy.'

I let out another sign and gently took Coop off of me. After successfully getting him off of me, I was able to stand up. Then walked to the kitchen and put on the kettle. I heard John do the same, but at that time, I wouldn't have even cared if he murdered me right then and there.

It would have put me out of my misery real quick.

I turned around from the stove to see John sitting at the bar.

"Make yourself at home, why don't you?" I muttered sarcastically as I got out two cups. I could tell John heard it after I heard him chuckle. I got out two tea bags and put them in the cups. "Sugar?" I asked and he nodded once.

"Sure." 

I rolled my eyes. "What an answer." I muttered snarkily and got the sugar bowl out. I put a few scoops in mine and one in his. 

'I just got the inexplicable urge to put salt in his tea.'

"So...Cam..." John began and I froze in place.

'I haven't heard that name in years.' I thought to myself with a sad tug in my chest, but I brushed it off.

"Cam is dead." I interrupted flippantly with a nonchalant wave of my hand. "My name is Grace." I continued while getting out my stash of cookies.

"Is she...?" John trailed off, confused, and I sighed as I turned off the kettle as it began to whistle.

"She's my old identity." I let out another sigh as I leaned against the counter.

'I guess it's time to explain.'

"My old name was Camilla Harrison. My new name is Grace." I shook my head. "Grace Stanton." I finished, my voice threatening to leak out my exasperation. And sadness.

My old name. My old life.

'Everything used to be so simple.' I thought with a pang in my heart. I swallowed back my emotions as I gave John his cup. 

"Those guys..." He trailed off, not knowing their names so I clarified tiredly,

"Remi. He's the only one you need to remember."

He nodded slowly as he stirred the spoon in the tea. "You mentioned that they were spying on you?" He questioned, a fire lighting in his eyes for a quick second before he calmed down and it went away.

"Ah. That." I murmured and grabbed my cup to stir the sugar. I opened my mouth to say more, but before I could, an all too familiar voice spoke up,

"What. The. Hell."