𝟑𝟎 | 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥

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 THE PRESENT

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... THE PRESENT ...

Leo's eyes darted into the car's windshield as if they were bullets. He stood astride his arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes were sending imaginary freezing icicles to our way.

Okay, I can remove Angry Leo from the list of things I have to do today. But what now?

"So, you invited him to your little trip but not me?" Otto growled indignantly. I suppressed the urge to hit his head across the deck. Sometimes he deserved it for his comments. Still, I knew I would be lost without him. Your best friend is determined to go on a suicide mission with you, and not only will you let him, but you're also ungrateful? I suck at being a friend.

With increasing seconds, this possibility seemed more impossible to me. I would have to crush his body under the wheels of the car to let me pass.

As it was the habit of my mine, without further thinking, I held to the first idea that came to my mind, reaching for the door handle. Otto looked up curiously.

"Since when do you listen to that jerk?" he asked, his face full of invisible question marks.

"Trust me," I asked, pointing to the time. "Training will end soon."

Otto didn't have to think long about what I said. It will be a moment of surprise. Our moment.

My friend nodded, and I opened the car door, then got out slowly.

"Hands over your head," Leo said calmly. I didn't even notice when he had time to pull out his gun. With an amused grimace, I asked abruptly:

"Are you going to treat me like I'm a criminal?"

Leo didn't move. He stood firmly as a soldier, aiming at me as it was something he was used to. As if we were not friends but enemies. But were we friends at all? Or just acquaintances who tried to do what was right without hurting each other?

"You are to blame 'cause you're always running away as one," he replied matter-of-factly, without a hint of any emotion. His words made me lose my temper. So, this is what Leo thought of me? That I'm behaving like a scaredy-cat just because I want to free my mom? Does he even know what it's like to live with the feeling of not knowing if your family is still alive? Did he ever have to undergo what I am undergoing now?

Yes, I run away every time I see him, but not because I'm scared. It's because I know what Leo's job is. He was here to stop me – that's what my father wanted. He wants to keep me safe by making me a coward. But who will save our family if there are no more daredevils willing to sacrifice for it?

"But what am I really interested in," Leo continued, "what are you running away from? Before what awaits you? From your father? Or-"

"I'm running from an idiot trying to stop me from finding the person I care about," I said. With sharpness in my voice, I tried to hide my pure despair. How come he doesn't understand I'm not running away because I want to? With my thoughts, I tried to let him know how I was feeling. What if he doesn't want to understand... what if he only sees me as an unfulfilled task?

Leo stopped. Did he find out what was bothering me or not?

And why was I even interested in what he thought? I shouldn't care. After this conversation, I will disappear anyway. And I will do my best not to meet him on my way. Not unless my mother is safe. Not until my father is home and all those who tried to harm the O'Donnell family will be dead.

"I don't want you to think I don't care what happens to your mom," Leo said cautiously as if afraid his voice would blow away his words as the wind would blow away the feathers. The hand in which he held the gun shook after a long time, and I couldn't help but feel that my words get to him somehow, attacking his conscience.

"Really? Because it doesn't look like that by any chance," I said painfully and with laughter at the same time.

"I'm trying to protect her!" he snapped at me angrily, making my body twitch. I heard a loud sound in my ears, like someone blowing a horn. Completely lost in the time and space between me and Leo, I've forgotten Otto was sitting in the car waiting for us to end our argument.

"Jeez, sorry, I didn't plan to do that," he muttered, barely understandable. "Go on."

I turned again to Leo, who released his hands.

"I'm trying to protect her," he repeated. "Like Lucifer."

Red color rolled into my cheeks, making me look like a volcano just before the eruption.

"How can you say something like that?" I squealed like a cat. "If my father protected my mother the way you say he does, do you think they would kidnap her?!" His words seemed absurd to me. Was he listening to himself?

"You don't understand anything, Ria," he said jovially, and I saw he was struggling inside. Part of him wanted to tell me everything, to the last dot. The second part, the one controlled by reason, put an invisible tape in front of his mouth.

"Then why don't you explain it to me?" I begged him, frightened by the tone in which I asked the question. Leo lost the internal battle and the silence won.

"I'm sorry," he said, shivering, "but... I can't." A small piece broke off my heart, piercing chest. Otto coughed, and I knew the right time has come.

"Just like I can't go with you," I said, taking a step back. Immediately after that, we could hear sirens around the building, giving everyone a sign that the training was over. Leo didn't expect it at all and reluctantly looked around. Until he realized what was happening, I had been already sitting in the car, ready to go.

Leo picked up his weapon, but suddenly, athletes sprang out of the fire door, ready to celebrate their score. As I mentioned – the garage was unused, but footballers were used to passing through here, straight to their locker rooms. It was a kind of shortcut for them. Plus, they could avoid the annoying and relentless girls who were waiting for them in front of the main door. Leo had no choice but to hide his revolver under his jacket and leave before anyone asked him what he was doing here.

Satisfied with the successful plan, I waved at him enthusiastically, and Otto showed him his middle finger.

"First stop – dad's armory," I said, turning on the radio and adding on speed.

"First stop – dad's armory," I said, turning on the radio and adding on speed

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