𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

𝟏𝟕 | 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲

Surprised that I was still alive, I got out of the building and was lucky enough to feel a cold wind whipping my face. One look was enough to tell, that Otto was glad to be alive, too. Some pretty girl was keeping him company, and I felt terrible that I had to ruin it.

Without any explanation, I pulled him by the shirt, shoving him into the car like an object. This time I took the driver's seat. Otto had not yet closed the passenger door, and the engine was already starting. As I heard the door slamming, I stepped on the pedal and did not intend to look back.

"W-what are you doing?" Otto asked, anger with a surprise was mixing on his face. "Did you see that hot chick?" He nodded at the playboy girl who had been touching his shoulders a moment ago. "She was just about to give me her phone number."

"Then I hope you said your goodbyes properly because you'll never see her again," I said bitterly. "And be glad we left, otherwise you would have to invite her to the funeral instead of a first date. Our funeral."

"Why? What happened at that gas station?" he asked with his forehead vein pulsating wildly.

"Inside, I came across a man looking for David," I said and plucked up the courage to look in the wing mirror in case anyone was following us. Otto gave me a look filled with fear.

"And he was looking for him at the place we were at? Please tell me it's just a stupid coincidence," he begged with slight hope.

"Sorry for disappointing you, but it's not a coincidence. The man said something about the tracking device that David has," I explained, adding the speed. "I mean, he had." Otto put on his seat belt and raised his head.

"Tracking device? That sounds like we have a problem."

"We have. And not just one," I agreed quietly, secretly checking my unpleasant wound under my sweatshirt. Blood began to seep slowly to the surface. Shit.

A friend asked a question to which I would also like to know the answer:

"What now?"

"We'll stop for a moment and get rid of the tracking device," I suggested. The first part of the plan was simple. Even I knew what awaited us later, the thought of it really scared me. "Then...I'll see."

"Fine," Otto agreed.

We traveled a few kilometers. As we passed more and more traffic signs, I tried not to think about the strong pain in my hand. It fired into my shoulders, preventing me from squeezing the steering wheel properly. I had no choice but to ignore this feeling. Now it was more important for us to get away from those lunatics as far as possible. I was sure if they crossed our path again, we would end up with worse injuries than this little wound was.

After a few minutes, I finally devoted myself fully to driving and forgot about the ugly cut in my skin. It scared me when Otto shouted:

"RIA, STOP!" I braked hard until it ticked forward with us. I tried to catch my breath through my slightly parted lips. Luckily, there were no cars around, so no one was angry about us standing in the middle of the road.