Wicked Games

༺8༻

Kent's POV...

I laugh at her childish actions. God, and she's sent to kidnap someone? I'm covering my mouth with hand while watching her leave, apprehending what was she trying to do.

She's cute when she's annoyed. Meanwhile my mind tells me to shoot her. Leave one big hole on her scull, let blood drain from her little head. I can't describe how much she annoys me, I can't wipe from my mind embarrassment she made me face several times.

I drew again. I drew her. After final touches I write only one word, "Amphitrite" goddess of sea. I saw how she was looking at water, how she was adoring it. Her eyes were pure, kind and innocent. I saw how calm she was.

That moment felt like she showed her real self and it's completely opposite of what she's showing world. If you ask me about Hope I'll tell you that she's cruel, aggressive, seductive, the devil's lawyer. But I saw her. This time I saw her. And she's beautiful, kind and innocent. She's hurt and I wish I know why.

But at the end of day she's still my enemy. I don't even know why we're enemies, it's not only because we're rivals, she's hiding something and I truly want to know what I have done to her.

I'm refusing to end this war first. If she wants to defeat me I'm not going back. War is war.

I go upstairs and get ready, her door is closed. I leave house and head to my car. I drive to most deafened place. I make sure there's no one around. My eyes run to backseat and I sigh. It's time to get down to business. I slide my hand under the passenger seat. Finally find it and wrap in little fabric.

I'm cleaning fingerprints. After I clean everything especially trigger, gun appears under the seat again.

I leave vehicle and take shovel from back seat. I dig deep pit. After an hour, the pit is perfect depth. I open trunk and drag one man, I throw him in pit and come back to second. Both of them are laying in the ground and I start putting soil on top.

"Poor people." Someone says behind me. It's harsh, old lady's voice.

I swing my shovel and point at her. There's short, old woman standing front of me. She has stone-cold blue eyes and white hair. Gray parrot sits on her shoulder. She's looking at me disappointed. I know I got caught but her stare makes me feel even more caught.

"Who are you?" I ask her while putting shovel down.

"Who are you?" She returns quickly. She knows English, everyone here knows English. I'm not even sure if we're in Greece.

"Who am I?" I wasn't expecting her returning question.

"Who are you?" Her calmness makes me doubt but I still tell her my name.

"Oliver Miller."

"What are you doing Oliver Miller?" She asks so casually.

My answer is unclear. How can I tell her that I'm burying two men who I killed last night to protect my enemy and biggest headache. But something tells me that she already knows it. And what is even confusing, she's okay with it. I press shovel my foot and throw soil in pit.

"From what age?" She asks, her voice less harsh.

"Age." Parrot repeats.

She knows.

I don't stop, it's clear that she knows everything and I don't need to hide.

"Eighteen." I answer on my low voice.

"Just a kid." She sighs.

"Your name ma'am?" I turn around again to face her.

"There's no need to take care of me. I'm a grave." She moves her fingers as if she's zipping her lips. I don't know if I should trust her but I'm not going to do anything to her.