Brawl For Defense ✔

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

I spent about five minutes convincing the couple that we could trust Chase. They were being a little too skeptical, though it was understandable. No one in their right mind would stay friends with a former murderer. Yet again, the couple stayed by my side even after watching me go through that phase. That was a story for another day, anyway.

After staying a while and chatting, they left the room. They said something about having lunch with Kenneth’s mother, who was back in town.

I noticed that Chase was staring rather intently at my duffel bag, his calm demeanor vanishing. I knitted my eyebrows together, wondering about the sudden change in mood. He fidgeted with his fingers as he kept staring at the bag, and I started to grow impatient. “What is it now, nerd? You want to see my underwear or something?” I walked over to the duffel bag to grab a change of clothes, remembering that I still had Chase’s sweater on. 

“N-No! It’s just that…um…” Chase trailed off. 

I took one last swift of the lingering cologne on his sweater before taking it off and throwing it over to him. “Just say it already, Chase.” I sighed and watched as he caught the sweater easily.

“I don’t think—”

“Say it!” I exclaimed exasperatedly.

“Why the hell do you have a gun if you don’t kill anymore?” he exclaimed back. 

My eyes widened as I shot forward and slapped a hand against his mouth. He winced a little and looked at me, alarmed. I put my index finger against my lips in a shushing motion. 

“Care to say it louder so that everyone in this motel hears?” I hissed and moved my hands back down to my sides. “It’s not mine, idiot! I took it away from Bryce when he threatened me with it. Plus, after listening to such confidential information, you’re scared of a simple gun? How lame.”

“Sorry…” he muttered. 

I waved a hand in the air dismissively and looked at his sweater. “Thanks for lending that to me,” I said, changing topics. “You should go home and change before our training today. Meet me at the gym by four, unless you need me to pick you up?”

"How will I get to my house?" he asked. "Also, to answer your question, I will only let you pick me up if you please drive like a normal person. Motorcycles look harmless enough until you're the one on them."

"To answer your ­question, I'll give you some money so that you can take the bus," I said, completely ignoring his comment. He opened his mouth to protest but I shoved some money in his hands, shutting him up.

"I could always call and—"

"You won't call anyone," I warned. "Now take the money without any other complaints and go home. I'll be picking you up by four o'clock, not a single minute later than that. Be ready by then." 

He glanced at the time on his phone and looked at me, alarmed. “I have less than an hour! I doubt that I’ll be able to get to my house in time.” He groaned and I smirked.

“Then you should be on your way. Time flies, you know?” I mused. I headed to the bathroom with the clothes in hand and closed the door behind me. A smile adorned my face when I heard faint shuffling and hurried footsteps, followed by the sound of a slamming door. I undressed and turned the knob of the shower, letting the cold water warm up before stepping under it.

Thirty-five minutes later, I was already pulling up in Chase’s driveway. I glanced at my watch and noticed there were still three minutes left until 4:00 PM. I revved my engine to announce my arrival and—as if on cue—a very flustered Chase walked out of his house. I laughed at him and motioned for him to sit behind me, making him furrow his brows questioningly.