"W-what the heck is that in your hand?!" I whispered in shock, backing myself against the wall.
Axel looked down at his hand, which held the silver killing device.
"It's a gun?" he said, with confusion in his voice, as if it wasn't obvious.
"Well...
Axel and I walked down the stairs. He carried the backpack over his shoulder and the suitcase was in his right hand, his left hand encased my own. Immediately, well it was hard not to notice, I saw three bodies cladded in black suits sprawled on the ground.
One of them I recognized.
"You killed the Chinese delivery man!" I yelled, my eyes landing on the familiar face of the man from yesterday. My heart stilled at the idea ] of dead people in my home and it dropped to my stomach when the thought of Axel being a murder crossed my mind.
"More like knocked out. I didn't want to stain the floor," Axel answered, not even sparing them a glance. So you would have killed them if they didn't manage to stain the floor? Interesting. Again, who is this man and where is my sweet not violent husband?
We walked over their bodies and headed to the broken front door. They had broken it off its hinges. Fantastic. Axel waited as I put on my flats and then we walked out of the house.
I shivered when the cold breeze of fall hit my face and goosebumps erupted all over my arms. I noticed Axel's black BMW X5 in the driveway, along with two other black cars parked at the front of the house.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Axel sped up his pace and he hurried me to the passenger side. The car beeped, unlocking the doors and he opened the door quickly. The smell of leather and Axel's cologne hit my nose, providing little comfort, as I took my seat on the beige leathered seats.
Where the hell were we going?
He grabbed my seatbelt before I could and strapped me in. He then placed the suitcase beside my legs, and I almost flinched when it touched my shin.
Axel began to close the door before he abruptly stopped.
I looked at him in confusion as he held out his hand.
"Can I get your phone?" he asked.
Without even thinking, I placed it in his hand while wondering what he was going to use it for. Never did I think he would raise it above his head and smash it down to the ground. I watched in shock as he grinded it with his foot, the screen breaking away from the ruined device.
He then proceeded to do the same with his phone. Once both phones were destroyed, he threw the backpack into the backseat and hurried around the front of the car. He opened the driver's door and climbed in, then he started up the car and pulled out of the driveway.
"What was that?" I all but shrieked, my eyes still on my broken phone before it disappeared from view. "All my pictures! Contacts! My high score on Subway Surfers!"
"It had to be done, " he said, with a grim face, his green eyes narrowed from behind his glasses at the empty streets of the neighborhood. "They would have been able to trace it."
