I sit silently in the van going through the papers that I could manage to take up. Christopher nearly got upset, saying I was taking forever to gather  the papers and we needed to go. So I just went with the papers I had took up from the floor already. I took one look at Cindy's figure on the ground then went through the door, Chris after.

"Where will we go now?", I ask as I set down the papers on the dashboard, using Chris' phone to hold it down. Christopher looks out unto the road, tightening his grip on the steering, before looking on me.

"I don't know," he answers. He looks away from me; his hand finding his thigh, tapping a rhythm. I look outside the window, the breeze slapping me across my face, not as hard as Cindy's slaps though.

My hair flutters behind me from the breeze. I wrap it in a bun, before it affects Chris. Don't want him crashing because of my hair now. Crash.

"You believe you went into a comma because your car just crashed" her voice so loud in my ears, it's speaks betrayal and lies. Not from her, but from the person who she speaks about. Did I really end up in a comma because I drove too fast? Those where Chris' words. The same man who watched me fight against those men: betrayal. He can do it again. Who told me lies. He can do it again. Who I placed my trust in. I didn't it again. Who I will be betrayed by like before. If I don't get myself together this time.

" You look tormented. Do you want to talk to me about something," Chris voices reaches my ears. I turn looking into his eyes that for once display some sort of emotion: concern. I purse my lips together looking down at my hand in my lap, as I fumble with the hem of the skirt.

I was thinking about you. If I should trust you again. If what Cindy said is true. If I've been living a lie, and can save myself before it's too late.

I have so many questions that need to be answered yet you push me away so many times. Not with your hands, but words and expression.

"If I have an option of telling you something it's nothing, but I know you won't stop  until you figure it out-"

"So?"

"So I'll let you figure it out," he says then turns his back to me.

I remember that scene like it was just a minute ago. If he had an option of telling me nothing, which he had, he would tell me nothing. And, that's what he did. He silenced me with his back after I was speaking to him. Now his eyes show me he is concerned.

"You can trust me, you can talk to me," he says, bringing me from my thoughts as his hand rest on my thigh.

I look from his hands to his eyes: soft. For me? I look back to my hands.

What should I do? Trust him? Pretend to trust him? Or just make it clear I don't trust him at all?

Decisions. Life depends on them. I guess that's the reason they are hard to make. One decision and your life becomes dust. I should do what is best. But, I don't know what is best. Decisions. Life. Trust. Betrayal.

I take down the paper with Cindy's information on it, and give it to Christopher.

" Read it" He takes it slowing the car down on the old dirt road as he scans the paper. He returns it when he's finish, looking out out unto the road.

"you knew about this," I question him or more like accuse him.

" I... I mean I suspected it but I didn't know if it was true" Chris says defending himself. He looks over on me, fright masking his face. But, why?

Is he hiding something? Is that why he doesn't want to tell me anything? Because he's afraid he'll slip and tell me something he thinks I shouldn't know? Is that why I should figure it out all by myself? By the time I've figured it out it's too late. Is that it?

"well your expression tells me something else," I comment. I wasn't going to back down now. I shouldn't trust him or pretend to. He just shouldn't and can not be trusted.

He looks back to the road. There it is, his cold armour. Ugh! I hate suspense, especially with no action.

I stare outside the window yet again, after putting the papers on the backseat. I hated the way they waved when the wind came upon them.

Just trust me? Can I really?

I look in the rear mirror at my reflection. Blood stained on my lips, and puffed red cheeks. Strokes of  brown hair laid loosely from my bun. I didn't look too bad, just bad. I smile.

My smile soon faded as I heard loud bangs on the car. I looked behind me at the vehicles just like the one we took from Cindy. Chris drew my head in.

"Stay down"

Bullets sprayed as the jeep bustled it's way down the track. I kept my head low, as instructed.

"Shit!", Chris curses under his breath.

"What?"

"I can't lose them, we need to get rid of them," he responds looking in the rear mirror and pulling his head back.

Get rid off them? Sounds like a plan to me, then get rid of you too.

A smirk touched my lips as my worry washed away. Adrenaline pushed through my veins as excitement fill my  face.

"Do you still know how to shoot," Chris asks taking a gun from under his seat. When did that reach there?

"Yeah, I guess," I answer. He chuckles.
"Try your best, not that your best is much with guns but," he shrugs and hands me the gun. Not that your best is much, ha. I'll show you.

I grip the gun firmly, checking if it's loaded: nine. I grin as I feel an electric shock of power roll within me and I put my head outside shooting at the car behind us.

Feelings so foreign, yet so known. I feel them all. My body accepts them, but my brain tries to process and remember them. My body seems to know them well, however my brain have just seen them.

I shoot and shoot and shoot, until the bullets are finished. The car still follows behind. And, I thought I was skilled?

My first shot creased the road, accompanied by my other. My  third and fourth caught the car. My fifth caught the passenger in front. My sixth killed him. The other bullets vanished. Chris chuckles. I swear I'm going to push him off a cliff.

"Don't laugh it's not funny"

" I think it is. You were so confident awhile ago. Then wasted practically nine bullets," he laughs more. I let out a small chuckle.

I guess I'm no good with guns.

"Do you have more bullets"

"Three, but not for you to waste"

"Let me drive"

"What are you out of your mind?", Chris head snaps in my direction. "Before you went in a comma your driving was bad. What says now?"

"Shut up. Just let me drive. We won't die," I respond. I take my seatbelt off and put my foot over, then my other. Chris looks at me like he wants to tell me no, but then he follows suit and we switch seats.  He reloads the weapon as I hold on to the steering. This feels weird. I hope I don't crash, again.

Chris leans outside the gun infront of him. He slicks his hair back out of his face. His back flexes as he pull the trigger; for a minute I wish he would just crush me. Crush you? Shut up and focus.

"Avagay you're off the road," Chris shouts fright in his tone. I swerve slamming into our opposer. Chris gets a clear shot of the driver and kills him. Now that's what you called skilled. Shut up!

"You can hand over the steering now," he says turning towards me.

" I can handle it," I respond.

"Watch the light post," he alerts me I swerve. What the heck is a light post doing on a track? Legit we are in the middle of nowhere, with trees on either side of the road.

"You think you wanna hand it over now"

"I don't need to. I can drive perfectly. Put on your seatbelt," I say then step in the gas. Chris head flies back as I hit 90. He stares over at me telling me to slow. I smile. No can do.

We drive for what seems like hours. The moon peeks out; the stars already taking their place in the sky. Cold air enters through the windows I shudder as I try to keep my eyes open. I slow down, putting the car into park.

"I'm tired," I say to Chris putting my hand on the hand rester. I run my hand through my hair pulling out the bun I made earlier.

"We'll sleep here till tomorrow then. I'm tired too," he yarns. I look over at him as he leans close to me. He pushes back my chair and brings down the back. I watch him.

"Sleep like that," he says doing the same to his seat. I watch him as he leans back with his hands behind his head. He stares at the celling for a minute, then closes his eyes. He turns his head in my direction, eyes still close. His slender face shines under the moon light as his British nose sparkles. His eyes moves and his jaw flexes. I turn my head before I get caught staring.

I look outside the window, it's dark. Just like that night. Today, full of excitement just like that night and the day that followed.

Who were those men who chased us today? Do they work for Cindy? The agency? Either way isn't it Cindy? How did the find us? We were long gone from her house.

My eyes HEAVIES . I need to sleep. I close my eyes, feeling the cold wind press against my body. Goose bumps rises and I rub my hands together. I shiver.

Suddenly something is thrown over my body. I open my eyes and look at Chris who sits up in his seat, looking through his bag. His leather jacket covers my hand, I try hard not to blush. He actually thought of me.

"Thanks," I mumble. I turn my back to him, closing my eyes. Minutes passed. I felt tired; I just couldn't sleep. I tried everything: counting sheeps, closing my eyes tight, even pretending to dream. Nothing worked.

"Can't sleep?" I turn to Chris.

"How did you know I was awake?"

"You weren't snoring," he says then chuckles.

"I do not snore," I say turning my body towards him.

" You do"

"Shut up. I don't," I say, then smack him on the chest. He rubs the area pretending to be hurt, then smiles. I smile, resting on my back.

"Cindy sent them didn't she," I ask bitterly looking over at him.

"Yeah" He runs his hand down his face.

" How did she find us?", I run my hand through my hair. "You think she has a tracker on the car"

"Probably," he answers turning on his side. He stares into my eyes. My breath hitches. He lift his hand brushing my hair behind my ears. He pulls back like I burnt him, then turns his back to me.

"You should get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us" Great! He turns his back again. I do the same. Good night then, I guess.