MoboReader> Romance > The Partnership

   Chapter 2 2 Ballistic

The Partnership By Natasha Larson Characters: 6169

Updated: 2018-06-04 18:48


Met these great people on the jeep tour, spent most of the vacation with them! ^^

I got out of the elevator and headed back to my room, thinking about how great it would be to be the actual energizer bunny. I mean, he's pink, he's got a drum strapped to his chest, he'd make a lot of money, and he has great sunglasses.

I turned the corner and made my way to the room. I pulled out my key from my back pocket and unlocked the door. No later than when I shut the door, someone knocked. I frowned in confusion before opening the door once more.

Grayson stood there for a moment before pushing me aside to get in. "Were you waiting behind the corner for me or something?" I asked him, but for some reason I had the feeling that was exactly what he's done.

"I don't have keys." He shrugged, heading to the spare room, shutting the door behind him. I smiled and decided that it was time to make dinner. Heading to the kitchen, I realized that I'd have to go grocery shopping sometime soon, considering the fact that we only really had two eggs, some peppers, onions, and cheese, plus some milk.

Okay, an omelet it is!

I pulled out the food that we had and started cutting it into pieces. Ramsey taught me that it was called mincing.

Managing to find some warm butter in the pantry, I placed it on a frying pan and heated it up. I left the kitchen to grab my phone and my speaker, playing S&M by Rihanna, an old favourite.

I swivelled my hips and twirled occasionally as I placed the eggs and the ingredients into the frying pan. Once it was cooked, I figured I'd risk a pan flip today. Putting the flipper down, I lifted the pan off of the burner and jerked it forward and upward, making the omelet spin mid air, landing in the pan perfectly. I put the pan down, my eyes widening in amazement.

It's never actually worked before!

I started to do a happy dance, shaking my butt and hooting. I started to spin, allowing me to realized that Grayson was standing at the entrance to the kitchen. I immediately put my hands down and stopped dancing, my face flushing red.

Grayson just coughed and said, "Water?"

I pointed to the sink, completely mortified. I turned back to my omelet, remembering the amazing task I'd just completed. Suddenly, I wasn't so embarrassed, but I still shut off the music.

"Did you see me flip the omelet?" I asked him excitedly, my mortification dissolving instantly.

"I only saw the aftermath." He sassed, filling up a glass of water. I have no idea where he got the glass from. I have a photographic memory and I still can't remember where the glasses are.

"Haha, very funny." I deadpanned, putting the omelet on a plate. I sighed, "Do you want some?"

Grayson just shrugged so I cut my masterful creation in half, putting the other half on another plate.

I had this little table in the corner of the room with two chairs. The other one has always been for decoration, but I guess now it comes in handy.

I placed the plates on the table, along with some knives and forks. I took a seat, secretly excited to be ea

ting with someone other than myself. That is, until Grayson came over, took the plate and the cutlery, then walked back to his room.

What is he, a hormonal teenage girl going through her emo phase?

I tried not to be too disappointed, I mean, what did I expect? That he'd sit down with me, be a decent, civil human being, and have a nice conversation with me? Well, yeah, but clearly I was hoping for too much.

As I always do, I sat alone in my chair, eating my delicious omelet. Plus, I'm the best company I could ever want.

Kidding, even I annoy myself sometimes.

Once I finished my omelet, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to sleep. Putting the dishes in the sink, I headed to my room, close the door behind me. The familiar grey walls, brown hardwood, minimal decoration, bed frame, bed sheets, all of it made me feel at home because I knew it was mine.

I sighed as I laid down on top of my bed, allowing it to engulf me. I quickly scurried under the covers as the AC turned on automatically.

"Isabella, it's your turn." The now familiar woman called me. There were about a dozen children here, all lined up in a row, observing one another. We were all diagnosed and given the same skills, it was just a test to see who could use them better.

It was my fourteenth birthday tomorrow and I was told that if I did good, I'd get a surprise.

She handed me a pistol as I came forward, they never did teach us the specifics. They just taught us to fight and kill, never the names or the information. I was stressed out and super excited. I was usually very good, but the general excitement put me off.

I loaded it and shot at the six targets down the field. Shoulder, knee, thigh, miss, miss, elbow.

When I was done, I knew I had disappointed many. I was afraid to look up at the lady because I knew her gaze would be one of anger. "Forget about your birthday." She said calmly, containing her rage. I knew that I'd embarrassed her in front of her colleagues who watched behind the double sided mirror.

Not wanting to disappoint, I picked up another round and started to shoot, looking her dead in the eye. The targets were on wheels, moving around. I closed my eyes, listening, feeling.

A vibration through the floor told me where the wheels turned and moved, allowing me to be precise with my shots. Taking six quick shots, I opened my eyes to find each of the mannequins with a bullet through their heads. I smiled slightly, watching as the woman grinned proudly at me, then to her co-workers.

I'd always though of her as a mother, I'd never known a true mother so I'd never known anything different.

I awoke panting, wiping my face with my sleeves. I must've fallen asleep laying here. I sighed, I don't typically have nightmares very often, but when I do, they remind me why I'm here and what I am.

A killing machine.

---------

Poor Izzy, I like her.

A few more hours and I'm flying home. Just thinking about going back is stressing me out, but whatever.

Best subject in school? (Not lunch or recess.) - Science.

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