When Perfect Meets Crazy

13 - Danger, danger, danger

So I said the only thing I could say.

"Fancy running into you here."

Shock did not begin to cover the look on Masked Idiot's face. He was astonished. Flabbergasted. Bewildered. Stupified.

Then, he was angry. Pissed. Furious. Enraged.

I gulped.

Olly, if I die because of this, I will haunt you till you're forty.

"What," he bit out through a jaw clenched so tight it had to hurt, "the hell are you doing here?"

Not only did he visibly want to kill me, it was also made abundantly clear his less than friendly reaction wasn't doing me any favors with the gun packing bodyguards when the second one also took his gun off safety. One small mistake, an ill-timed twitch or a muscle spasm in their trigger finger and I'd be a goner. Deceased. Dead. Lost to this world. Starting another journey. In a deep eternal rest. On another plain.

"I was..." My voice came out tiny and croaky. Even to my ears, I sounded terrified. "I just... I happened to be in the neighborhood."

"I know your daily routine." His tone was icy sharp. "You did not," his cold gaze met mine, "happen to be in the neighborhood."

I shivered, my heart pounding harder.

No other combination of words had ever sounded as menacing. And to think just a few days ago, he was offering to comfort me while I cried.

"I was. I... uhm... I..." I gulped, discreetly wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt. Think, Avy! "I had an emergency meeting!" I latched on to the excuse, then pinned on the lie, "Around here."

"At the Calthorpe? You had a meeting here?" Cynicism coated his tone.

I shivered and tried not to dwell on how the child criminal was now looking from me to him and back again with a speculative glint.

Nothing to see here.

"No, I... not... not the Calthorpe exactly. Just... just in the area?"

Dear Lord, pretty pretty please help me.

Not once since we've had our arrangement have I given as much thought and importance to Masked Idiot's opinion as I did at the moment.

Those times I didn't have a gun pointed at me, loaded and ready to be fired.

"You know, I was actually just leaving. I'm gonna go so... you know, don't... don't shoot me." Never had I sounded more imploring, more solicitous.

If any of my classmates heard that, chances were they'd do a double take just to be sure it was me. I was Avy Johnson. Avy Johnson demanded, threatened, issued ultimatums and on good days, reasoned with her opponents. She did not implore, cajole or beg.

Desperate times...

"You know," the girl spoke up, a dazzling smile on her face, "she could work. She'll just take Tammy's place in the auction. No harm done."

No harm? No harm to who? Is that a joke? Do you think I didn't hear what two you were talking about?

Out loud however, I pretended to be oblivious and went with, "I can't. My father is waiting for me. If I'm not home soon, he'll send a cop to come check why. He's the sheriff."

Yes, I was blatantly lying and name dropping but if being crass saved my life, I was willing to run, fly, soar, teleport even, with it.

"No, he's not," Masked Idiot countered flatly, barely flickering a glance in my direction.