Come and Get Me ✔️ - Amber - Wattpad

Story cover for Come and Get Me ✔️ by Chronically-Chaotic

Come and Get Me ✔️

Chronically-Chaotic

Reads 156,201
Votes 4,713
Parts 56
Time 11h 26m

Reads 156,201
Votes 4,713
Parts 56
Time 11h 26m

Chronically-Chaotic

Mature

"Do you normally make-out with the people you're hired to kill? It doesn't strike me as very professional." 

"Put the gun down," Gabriel panted, not answering her. 

"Why on earth would I do that?" 

"Because you're not going to shoot me," Gabriel replied, noting that she still had the safety on. "I bet you've never shot anything in your life." 

She studied his gun with a smile. "Maybe you're right," she replied. Then she pointed the gun back at him, taking off the safety and cocking it. 

"Are you willing to bet your life on it?" she asked him coolly.

***

He didn't know anything about her - her name, age, even what she looked like. He only knew it was his job to kill her. But when Gabriel comes face to face with his latest target, he finds himself completely mesmerized and can't pull the trigger. Left with few viable options, he decides to kidnap her. Unfortunately for him, she's not willing to come quietly. Instead, their encounter sets off an intense game of cat and mouse, unraveling Gabriel's entire world in the process.All Rights Reserved

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Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town. When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfound friends from the physiological torment of her closely supervised enclosure. ••• "Do I make you nervous, Enver?" Another idiotic question. "Wouldn't the man who kidnapped you and threatened to kill you make you nervous?" I snap at him. He only smiles an odd, crooked grin. I can make that disappear. "Wouldn't a murder make you nervous?" Now it's my turn to pull the strings. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it?" He pauses, I guess hoping for some sort of mercy in my eyes, "I didn't kill her." "Liar!" I shout. "Why won't you believe me?!" "Would you believe yourself?" "It wasn't me who shot her," he sits on a stool, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then how do you know she was shot?" "I saw it. I saw him kill her," his voice was riddled with such pure vulnerability and pain it begged me to believe him. "Who?" I try to sound sympathetic, but it comes out as scared. Maybe, subconsciously, I am scared.

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