The Assassin's Tree

( 5 )

My stomach twisted at the sound of Dean's voice. "I'd like to point out that you set this up, not me." I took a step towards him. "I personally don't want to be here."

Dean just laughed, ignoring my words and crossing over to Morte. He held out his hand, and Dean forked over a stack of cash. From where I was standing, I couldn't tell what kind of bills he was paying with. Not that it mattered.

The irony of this whole situation should have made me laugh. Normally, I was the one on the other side of this. Getting paid to do the dirty work. But now the predator had become the prey.

My body felt numb. I glanced at Morte as he retreated back into the Lambo, forcing my mind to focus on what was going on. Dean had started to walk towards me, so in return, I stepped back. I wanted to keep as much distance between us as possible. "I swear to god, don't touch me, Dean."

He tilted his head at me, glancing back at Morte's car as it roared back off into the night. "Do you know why I had you brought to me?" He was looking down at me, I didn't want to look at him.

"Because I'm incredibly handsome and you knew you couldn't get me on your own?" I retorted sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest.

To my surprise, he responded rather calmly. "Close, but not exactly." He flashed a smile, though it wasn't sincere. "Try again."

"Jeez, I can't read your mind. Why don't you just tell me? I'm not winning this game anytime soon." I huffed, stepping up to him slightly, trying to give off some sort of confidence.

This action unintentionally closed some of the distance between us.

Dean took advantage of this, reaching out and grabbing me by the arm, his grip secure and tight. "Well, I'm sure you can recall our first encounter, yes?"

I took a moment to remember that night. The feeling of plummeting off the roof, not going splat on the pavement like a pancake. Then... the way I felt when I saw Dean. Well, I didn't really see him. His face was mostly covered by his mask. I shook my head, taking a moment to fully take in his appearance, now that I could see all of his face.

Scruffy brown hair, dark brown eyes. A strong jawline, and a very serious expression that felt like it was stuck on his face. I wondered if he ever genuinely smiled. If I saw him on the street, I would think he was a model.

His voice snapped me out of my distant thinking. "Stop staring and answer my question." I jumped a bit, startled. "Uhm. Yeah. Obviously. It was hardly 24 hours ago." I murmured, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact now.

"Drop the attitude, tiny. I have power over you right now, remember that." He paused, tapping his foot against the ground, before going on. "Anyways. The original plan was turning you in and having you locked up. But, it seems that the plans have changed. We've got better plans for you now."

I lifted my gaze, narrowing my eyes at him. "Excuse you?" He just shrugged in response, falling quiet as he led me further into the alleyway. Since he still had the death grip on my arm, I was forced to walk, or stagger, after him.

Seeing that he wasn't going to answer me anytime soon, I fell quiet as well, accepting the fact that he wasn't going to give me any more information.

I suppose I won't know until we get to wherever we're going.

At least I had the little voice to keep me company.

You're welcome.

"Thanks."

Dean shot me a look, stopping for a moment. "What did you say?"

"I was thanking the voices in my head for keeping me company." I smiled innocently at him, shrugging. He raised an eyebrow at me, before shaking his head. "You're.. odd."

"And you're a jerk." He rolled his eyes at me, and I stuck my tongue out at him. He tightened his grip on my arm, narrowing his eyes at me. "Ow, hey, watch that grip of death." I tried to tug my arm away from him, but he held firm.

"Oh, shut up. You're so annoying. I'm immediately regretting this." He grumbled, starting to walk again, and dragging me after him.

"Good, let me go home, and we'll both be happy."

"I can't do that."

"And why not?"

"I have a boss to please."

"A boss? Oh please." I laughed a little. "What boss? The head of the 'superhero convention'?" He, however, remained serious.

"You won't be laughing when you meet him, Leon." His voice was scarily monotone. "He won't play your games."

"Am I supposed to be scared?"

"You aren't now, but you will be."

"And you know this how?"

"Personal experience." Dean stopped in front of an old Chevy Caprice. It looked well-kept for something that was at least a decade old. "Get in." He motioned to the car, letting go of my arm.

Seeing as I had no other choice, I climbed into the passenger's seat, watching him cautiously as he got in and started the car.

He turned on the radio, switching it over to play whatever he had put in. "Ew, turn that shit off." I reached for the "off" button, but he swatted my hand away. "Driver picks the music."

"That's a stupid rule."

"You're stupid."

"Maybe, but at least my taste in music isn't absolute garbage. And what's up with this car? Do vigilantes, I'm sorry, 'superheroes', not make enough for nice cars?" I rolled the window down a bit, letting in some fresh air as he carefully pulled out of the alleyway.

"Could you just shut up for five seconds?" Dean sounded genuinely annoyed now. I didn't care. Five seconds passed.

"There, your five seconds of silence." I smirked at him, and he reached over, smacking my forehead. Hard. I recoiled abruptly, shielding my face in case he decided to strike out again.

"You're not funny. I said shut up. Now. Shut. Up."

His voice was serious, in a warning kind of way.

So, for once, I did as he asked. I shut up.