Assassin's Secret

Chapter 9: Are you spying on me?

Exhausted, I laid down on the grass. I had just worked out and practiced almost everything I've ever learned from my trainers. I was on top of a hill, overlooking a narrow river, with trees lining the sides and providing great shade. I didn't have anywhere else to go, since Boss's training gym was out of bounds and practicing in a regular gym would be plain ridiculous. 

I looked up at the sky and tried imagined how my life would've been if I had never been an assassin. My imagination must be poor since I can't picture myself being anything but an assassin. And I was happy with that. Except for the fact that my whole life was in danger at this moment.

Luckily I still had a few days before any assassin would get here. At least I hope I do. 

Grabbing my empty water bottle, I started walking away from the hill. There was a bike trail a little ways away and I planned on reaching it to get out of the way of the trees. And also the bugs... I don't like bugs.

I jogged over to the now visible trail and was about to step on to it until I heard a bike coming my way full speed. He narrowly avoided hitting me, too bad that got me mad.

"Hey asshole! Watch where you're going!" I yelled after him. He's so lucky I have great reflexes, or else I would've beaten him up if he so much as damaged one hair on my body. I saw him glance back quickly, but that one second was all it took for him to loose control of his bike and topple over. 

I tried to suppress my laughter and it ended coming out as a snort. I watched in amusement as the guy stood and dusted his clothes off. He wasn't wearing the usual tight biking clothes I see most people wear, only a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans. That's odd, he must not care much about the sport. At least he had a helmet on.

"What's your problem?" he was bending down to see the damage on his bike. Poor guy, I almost felt sorry for him. 

"What's your problem? You almost hit me going 50!" I exclaimed. 

"You were no where near the trail," he replied. He was still bent over his bike, not once glancing my way. I decided to give him space with his love and started walking the opposite way. I had no time for his nonsense. "Wait!" I heard him shuffling leaves and metal clanging together.

Please don't come near me, please don't come near me. Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere. I heard him jog up to me and in a second he was next to me.

"Hey sorry about that. I just didn't expect to see anyone on the trail," he huffed to a walk, not keeping his distance. This dude better know his limits... quick.

I chose to ignore his chatter, what he was saying was irrelevant to my current thought process.

"So, uh, where're you from?" he asked.

"None of your business," I replied and started suddenly on a jog, hoping to lose him. No such luck. He surprisingly kept up with a steady pace, still carrying his bike on one shoulder.

"Oh come on, you can tell me," he tried, "I don't bite."

I should really think about buying an iPod. This guy didn't know when to quit!

"Tell you what: I'll tell you where I'm from if you tell me where you're from."

"What makes you think I care?" I laughed. He's got jokes.

"Oh come on! You know you want to know," he said... more like a question than anything. He must be doubting himself.

"Where are you from," I asked him. I think I've tortured him enough.

"Glad you asked! I'm actually not from around here, as you can tell by my accent," I finally turned my head and looked at him. I don't know why I never notice these accents. He smiled widely, showing his pearly whites, and said, "I'm British."