Wicked Chase

❖ Chapter Eight

[dedicated to Ron, who leaves lovely comments (banner credit) ]

CHAPTER EIGHT

Why?

When Alastair confirmed my suspicion, that was the first thought and question that tossed around in my mind. John and I weren't that close. I hadn't ever liked forming attachments with anyone and John was no exception. We were just friends, acquaintances who didn't mind talking to each other and hanging out with the other once in awhile. John didn't seem to be that sort of guy - the one involved with the supernatural. He was a sweetheart. He always wore a goofy grin over his lips, he always hung out with his best friend, Jenny, whom I knew he was pining after. He did not have any bad blood in him.

Then again, I hadn't known him well enough to know if he worked for Thorin or was like me so maybe I was wrong. Maybe John had merely put up an act to fool everyone - to fool me. Yet I couldn't help but feel the twinge of hurt that hit me. How could he do that to me?

A groan was heard from behind Alastair and I and we instantly whizzed our head to the source of the noise. Two of the five figures were beginning to stir awake and panic instantly seized me. "Alastair," I rasped, panic that was building up in my chest seeping into my voice, "they're waking."

A hand grasped my wrist and I looked away from the knocked out five men to the owner of the hand on my wrist. Alastair's hand felt rough and yet I loved the sensation of it, the feeling that jolted up me with just a mere touch. His grey eyes were stern. "Come on," he said, his silvery voice laced with determination and urgency as he stood up and tugged on my wrist, the action told me that I should follow suit. "We need to go. Now."

Once I had gotten to my feet, I wasn't allowed to take a breath or say a word as Alastair slipped his hand into mine, almost protectively, and pulled me forward. He ran and I stumbled after him, trying to keep my pace with him but it wasn't that easy. His legs were long and so were his strides that by the time we reached his Jeep and he was opening up the door with a lot of force and speed, thrusting me into the passenger seat hurriedly, I was a little out of breath.

Alastair hopped into the driver's seat less than five seconds later. He reversed the Jeep before he took a sharp turn, making me dig my hands into the leather seats for stability, before he began to drive. I remembered the date - outing, whatever it was - we went on, just over three days ago, and he drove so fast and recklessly. But this was different. He drove with much more vigour, he drove faster as if he were being chased and that he should get as far away from the people that were following him so that he could be safe and unharmed. Except that wasn't the purpose of his fast driving and I knew it.

"Alastair!" I exclaimed. "Will you slow down?" He didn't take heed of my words first, constantly glancing at the rear view mirror like he was waiting for something or someone to follow us. After a few seconds had passed, when he realised that no one was following us, he slowed down and momentarily closed his eyes, taking in a few breaths as if to calm himself down before he reopened them and gripped the wheel harder that his slightly dark skin grew a lighter colour.

I swallowed as I watched him. I hadn't ever witnessed him in this frenzy. It seemed so unlike Alastair to act panicked or worried. I didn't know him that well but I was so accustomed to his serious expression and serious attitude that I couldn't help but wonder if me being in danger had the ability to provoke such emotions from him. He really was doing his job. Was he getting paid a lot to put his life at risk? I still couldn't understand why Thorin, whoever the hell he was, was sending men after me. Nothing made sense. I needed answers.