Operation: One percent

Chapter 23

Margaret

For the first time in a long time, I had a nightmare that felt as long as 7 lifetimes. 

The vortex of emotions cascaded through my veins, carrying me to the edge of reason. Not even in my sleep could I rest. But as I woke up I saw Ace slumped over the couch, his head leaned over. The sleeves of his white blouse rolled up to his elbows, this man looked angelic even in his sleep.

 Foreign clothes on me were now drenched in sweat. It seemed that Ace changed me into a white blouse of his own. On most women, his shirt might have been worn as a dress, but on me, it looked two sizes larger at best. 

As I moved towards Ace to cover him with the blanket, he snapped out of his angelic slumber, grabbing my wrists. In the midst of his unrecognition of my face, I felt the strong need to justify myself. Or perhaps, his sudden alert state was exactly because he recognized me.

"I just wanted to cover you up."

He loosened the grip and searched for my gaze the ferocity in his slowly fading away, like the dew with the morning Sun. 

"How are you feeling?"

I didn't really know how to pinpoint an exact emotion, but all of my feelings took so much energy from me, that it could have been summed up with only one word.

"Tired. Thank you."

"You shouldn't be out of bed." 

He groaned in his seat, subtly stretching out of the chair. The crack in his neck made me wince. 

"I need to take a shower." 

He clenched his jaw, producing no response.

Countless thoughts gallop through my head about the identity of the hitman. Were they a  bounty hunter or an assassin? To top it off, the nightmare of being in a closed space with my target came true once again. With only two weeks left to finish the job, unless I or someone else does it, every single assassin and bounty hunter will chase me because of the penalty fee that would be applied to everyone that accepted it. Especially if they are as skilled as the hitman from before. 

With determination, I stooped out of the shower and put on a bathrobe.

Ace stood straight behind the long window, and selfishly I allowed myself to indulge in the serenity. If a sculptor saw him, he would carve a statue dedicated to him, but I knew that just was my inexplicable attraction to him talking. 

Reigning my thoughts, I decided to put an end to the spell.

"Mr. Mountague?"

Gaze re-focused on me, giving me a one-over.

"Can I know what happened back there?" 

He sighed in an attempt to relieve himself of pressure.

"Your hitman had accomplices, so I had to get you and myself out of there"

For all the cruelty he possessed, the only reason I was standing alive, was because of him.

Thanking him made his face soften. A target or not, I wasn't about the be tactless. Something in the way he spoke to me was nothing less than dignified, prompting me to watch my own manners.

"We are even now."

"Yes, I suppose so."

Slowly making his way toward me, I reflexively backed up. Noticing that, he stopped for a moment as if to asses me, but then once again he continued in suspicion.

"Do you know why are we targeted ?"

"No. I don't."

Feeling trapped without my antidepressants was a horrible combination if I had any intention of controlling my emotions. Anxiety washed over me. Sounds from far away cars were rumbling to me, and even the water droplets from the faucet brought a considerable contribution to the state of my mind. The light was starting to bother me, making me narrow my eyesight in response.