Target

Chapter 13

We were escorted to the penthouse by security, who had checked us over for weapons before we even entered the building. I saw Dean's gun hidden in his jacket, though it was not taken from him. But I knew I should not have had my gun on me that day, I felt naked without it. I felt vulnerable.

"I can not even ask you why you are quiet because you always are..." I fought the smile that attempted to grow on my face before failing. He didn't even complain, he just joked. I was stupid, I was letting myself lose my path. I was falling apart, even though it did not bother me.

"No weapons huh?" I glanced at his blazer. He knew what I was talking about. I smirked as he blushed, putting a finger to his lips playfully. "Not a very fun topic..."

"Yeah... are you alright with eating pork chops and raspberry sauce? My parent are very... extreme when guests come over." I nodded, I've eaten pork before, hopefully I would be impressed again.

The doors opened, a small hallway emerged and we made our way to the only door there other than the garbage chute. The hallway was already fancier that what I am used to, then we walked through the door. The white walls, gold detailing and hardwood floors. The maids that ran around gave me anxiety as they took my coat and gloves. Then the butlers lead us to the dining room, passing through the living room and bedroom halls.

I knew I had wide eyes, Dean laughed as I gaped at the portraits on the walls and the fancy furniture. But, still the maids running around and the constant workers moving around every corner gave me a sense of uncomfort.

Then I saw the large oak table, only four plates yet ten seats. Sitting beside each other, they smiled kindly as we entered, and I unwillingly grabbed Dean's hand. It was some kind of comfort in my mind but at the same time I hated myself for thinking so.

Mr. LeClair looked very much like an older version of Dean with his brown hair and hazel eyes. Though, the man had grey in his hair, proving his age. His smile was like Dean's as well, it was warm and comforting.

Mrs. LeClair was stunning and looked much younger than she should. She looked professional with her light brown hair tied back in a neat bun, but she had a welcoming feeling in her green eyes. She was definitely the person who raised Dean to always look at the good side of things.

"Hello Mother, father..."

"Dean, honey! I have not seen you in so long! You look so handsome." Mrs. LeClair was standing and hugging her son in a second, her husband following behind as she cupped Dean's face in her hands.

Mr. LeClair came to me first, my heart rate picked up. I just now realized that Dean had let go of my hand in order to hug his mother who was now kissing his cheeks. Mr. LeClair had his hand out to me in order to shake it, a gesture that normally I would think of as a threat. But, it was not. It was a gesture of welcome as he introduced himself. "You must be the young lady my son has told us about. I am Alexander LeClair, Dean's father."

"Raven James..." I shook his hand, it was firm, rough, just like Dean's. His face was just like Dean's and so was his voice. It brought me to the conclusion that Dean was a younger clone of his father. "It is great to meet you..."

"I've heard a lot about you Raven... Dean never stops talking about you when we talk over the phone." Alexander gave a smile, one to go along with his statement. I felt my face heat up, it was something I despised. There was no specific reason on why I would be turning red, to blush.

Dean was also blushing, his mother beaming at the fact that he was embarrassed. They all looked happy, they all seemed like their lives were perfect. As Dean's mother makes her way towards me with her arms wide open, I realized how screwed I was.

"Raven, honey, you are so beautiful! Just as Dean described. Call me Rosana..." I nodded, both parents giving me a weird look because of my silence. I knew Dean forgot to mention that about me at this moment and he was clearly trying to figure out how to say it. My voice filled the quiet room before him, slicing through the silence.

"I apologize if I do not speak a lot... I am not very used to speaking..." The confused faces transformed into warming smiles. Warming smiles that only made me even more uncomfortable. They did not know the danger of letting me into their home, the chance of me stealing Dean's gun and kill them all.

But even the thought of that made me more restless. These people were too kind to even deserve to be assassinated, to be murdered. They were causing me to fall into something I do not wish to fall into.

Dean carried conversation as we ate, he gave me reason to not need to speak unless it was a personal question, which my made up answers could only be so true. How did I grow up? Amazing. What is my job? A waitress and sales clerk. How did I meet Dean and how do I feel about him? I met him in his favourite cafe and am now madly in love with him.

That answer made me hate my own self, made me hate my lies and life as I knew it. But now I was beginning to question if I was lying to myself. Lying that I enjoyed my real job, that I hated Dean and his family. Most importantly, that I trusted my mother to believe her constantly.

They were all lies. All lies I made up to convince myself that I grew up the way I should have and that I know what I'm doing. All lies that tell me that the gun I carry during the day is supposed to be in my hand and the gloves I rarely ever take off will cover the blood from my hands and keep me quiet.

His family was not supposed to be an enemy. They were too kind, too vulnerable. Alexander and Rosana know what they are doing, they let Dean have control of what he does. Mother controls me to the very core, as if she did not trust my better judgement.

For five months I've been lying to her and myself that I would be able to kill Dean, that I would gather the guts to pull the trigger. Now it is May, I would not be able to survive another seven months thinking that I had to kill him. I am stupid to think that I would be able to leave, to be able to escape mother and her grasp.

Dean's family could not help me, I could not even help myself. I was not able to protect Bailey and I might not be able to protect Rose. Meeting Alexander and Rosana was the beginning of the end. The beginning of my emotional torture only to bring me to insanity. Then... Death.