More Than a Girl Bodyguard

Chapter 23: Un-matching Socks

Chapter 23: Un-matching Socks

I sighed, Why does he always bring trouble all the time? I stood there against the brick wall, thinking. I turned to peek over to the side of the corner and smiled.

There was no sign of those big bodyguards anymore. Guess they took him. And to be honest that was pretty fast.

I walked past the corner again, trying to act normal; as a very sick patient. Lowering my head and pretending to cough, which sounds pretty much real, I heard something in the distance.

“Where is he?” One said.

“He was just there running, a minute ago.”

“Well, where is he now?” The one who sounded like the leader ordered.

They all sighed and shook their heads.

“Great!” The leader said, “How are we going to say this to his father?”

His father? I thought searching through my mind, Why would Mr. Peterson want to kidnap his own son? I shook my head, This place was just getting weirder and weirder.

As I stood there against the wall opposite to them, I shut my thoughts and tried to listen over the conversations again. I glanced at them, seeing them all wearing black formal suits, as they were coming close together into a small circle of about seven people.

“What do we do now?” One of them said.

“Now, we go looking for him.” The leader ordered, pointing to different directions, and the rest of the group followed.

I step back, allowing my face to hide behind the shadows. But as I did, I hit something behind my leg with a slightly loud sound. I turned around and saw rubbish bin knocked to the ground, pouring out smelly garbage. My eyes widened, Great! And that was when I heard footsteps stopped and shuffled to my direction.

I didn’t have time to glance back, so I just hoped over the garbage and ran as fast as I could.

Feeling the cold air in my hair, I heard them yelling for me, “Get her!” They yelled.

I was cold and shivering in the winter air, running for my life because of the stupid bin that was behind me. Leaping with my legs almost off the ground, like I was flying, I slowed down and turned for the corner.

I quickly glanced back behind me, hearing them shouting from a long distance. I smiled as I had out run them. But as I turned to look where I was going, I was pulled in by someone and the door shut.

My eyes blinked as this person placed their hand over my mouth. I wriggled trying to get out of this person’s grip. But instead he or she held me tighter, “Shhh...” He paused, I recognised this familiar voice, “Or then they’ll find us.”

I stopped and stood there calmly behind the door with this person wrapping my mouth.

Moments past and when we heard footsteps rattling in the hallway of the hospital into the distance, he let out a sighed and let go of me. I quickly turned around placing my firm hand by the edge of his neck, enforcing my muscles.

He smiled, struggling to breathe, “Still mad at me Taylor?”

I relaxed myself and stared at him, “Why would I be mad at you, Dean?”

“I dunno,” he grinned at me, “but you seemed to be.”

I glared at him in silence.

He looked down at my hand by his neck, “If you’re not mad at me then why don’t you just let me go?”