Lincoln Tunnel 06/02/2016 01:10am
Kacee POV

Wandering the streets of New York was probably the most dangerous thing I'd ever done and if you'd told me I'd be doing just that at just gone one in the morning, I'd have laughed, but here I was. New York winters were cold and a gust of icey wind skated past me. We were on our way to Tribeca, one of the most affluent areas in all of New York, second only to SoHo.

All was quiet and a few people looked at us, but no one approached. People seemed to give us a wide berth and a group of men that looked quite threatening actually crossed the road to avoid us. Was I actually safe? No, probably not.

"So, do the people around here know you guys?" I asked.

"You could say that." Paul replied.

Reputation was something very important apparently, especially in the underbelly of New York. Fear traced through my veins as I trailed after them. The road spanned down as far as the eye could see and we were soon walking by the Whitney Museum of American Art.

The steps leading up to it were vacant save for a couple that seemed to be having a midnight chat. They both looked frozen and they both looked up as we passed. The guy put a protective arm round her.

"It's kind of disheartening that people are afraid." I murmured.

"Not really, Kacee. It's better if they're scared then they won't try anything." George said, walking next to me.

That was a good point. After the night I'd had I didn't want to see anymore violence. I thought of Mum and her frightened voice on the end of the phone. She'd wanted to make sure I was safe and I'd lied to her, told her I was with some friends. Dad would be a little more difficult to lie to. Had Mum told him what happened? Would he care?

We turned left after a while onto Washington Street. We were definitely in Tribeca now. It was busy and people milled around, sitting in posh bars and sipping expensive cocktails. We turned onto Hudson Street and then veered left onto Beach street, then turned onto West Broadway.

We walked straight down and paused. My vision was slightly blurred and I was feeling exhausted after all the walking. My gaze lifted and my eyes widened. We were in front of a lavish house. A wrought iron gate stood in front of us and the house was surrounded by a massive brick wall.

Paul sighed and stepped forward, glancing up at the camera staring straight down. He pressed a buzzer and waited. At first nothing happened then the sound of someone picking up the phone.

"Hellooo," Came a girly voice.

"Hi, Rukia. It's Paul. Could you please let us in?" He asked, sounding exasperated.

I glanced at George to find he was looking slightly annoyed again. Ringo was shuffling nervously. I felt John's hand in mine and looked up at him. His face was passive and gave nothing away.

"Hello, my lovely assassins. Let me look at you." Her voice said again and the camera changed angles to stare directly at us.

I suddenly felt very nervous and it seemed the sentiment was shared, at least by Ringo. The camera focused on me then angled to look at Paul again.

"Who is she?" The voice asked.

"Rukia, this is Kacee. Did Jake not explain the situation?" Paul snapped, losing patience.

"Young Miss, could you please allow them entrance." An elderly voice said.

There was a huff on the other end and the gates slowly opened. We all walked in and the gates shut behind us. The garden was even more amazing. There was a pathway leading to the mansion lined with statues and plants.

It took just over five minutes to get to the main door, which opened to reveal an elderly man with a slight moustache and thinning hair. He smiled, making the facial hair shift.

"Good Evening." He said.

"Hi, Alfred, long time no see." George smiled.

"It has been, indeed. I cannot imagine why." The older man smirked under the facial hair.

The sound of heels on the tile floor made everyone look round. A girl was rushing towards us. She was taller than me by a few inches and more height was added by her heels. She was wearing a a blue skirt with intricate flowers sewn on and a black top that slid off one shoulder revealing her pale skin. She looked like a doll.

She lunged and went to hug John. His hand shot up, grasping her head and holding her at arms length. She squirmed a little and huffed again.

"You guys never did like being touched." She whined, pulling back. "I've missed you though."

Her gaze then fell on me. My hand was still clasped in John's and when I squirmed to remove it, he held on tighter. This just got a whole lot worse.

"And who are you again? Alfred, you said it would only be the assassins, not some girl." She glowered at me.

"Not at all, young miss. I explained that Kacee Hanley would be staying here too. Her life has been threatened. Her father is a congressman, I believe." He said, and she pouted.

"Thank you for letting me stay." I smiled, trying to be courteous.

"Blah, blah, blah." Rukia grumbled.

"Better play nice, Rukia. You remember what happened last time." John snapped.

Rukia met his glare and she let out an exasperated groan before storming off. What had happened last time? Well, that was interesting. I parted my lips to ask about last time and was silenced by a glare from Paul. Yeah, I wouldn't be digging around in their personal lives anytime soon.

The butler, Alfred cleared his throat and smiled thinly. I got the sense he had to put up with a lot.

"My apologies," He sighed. "The young miss is stubborn, but kind-hearted."

I nodded, totally understanding. The others looked less convinced by that explansation. Maybe Alfred would be the person to talk to. He motioned for us to follow and led us up a flight of stairs. The house was just as large as the grounds. We paused in front of a door.

"Miss Kacee, you may make use of Rukia's eldest sister's room." He removed a key from his side and unlocked the door.

I hesistantly stepped in and turned to face Alfred, nodding mutely at him. My eyes flitted to John and he smiled. I'd be safe. The door shut and I turned to face the room. It was decorated lilac with expensive furniture and a four poster bed. This was all too much for me. Across the way were two more doors. It turned out that one was a very expansive walk-in closet, full to the brim with designer clothes. The other was a porclein bathroom with a circular tub in the middle.

I ended up perched on the edge of the bed. The clock read 01:55am and I felt out of my depth. I took a shuddering breath, noticing a phone on the night stand. I picked it up and was surprised to hear it ringing. Someone picked up.

"Hello, Miss Kacee, is everything all right?" Alfred's tone was pleasant.

"U-um, hi, Alfred. I'm a little shaken up." The best words I could think of to describe myself right now.

"Understandable, my dear. Are you lonely?" He asked.

"I guess so, and a little freaked out." I admitted.

"I shall seek to remedy that." He said, and then hung up.

I set the phone down. I resigned myself to sitting on the bed, staring at the floor until someone knocked on the door. Had Alfred come up to keep me company? I pressed myself to the door.

"Hello, who is it?" I asked.

"The boogeyman." It was clearly John, but he wasn't far off.

I opened the door to find him leaning against the frame. He locked eyes with me and I suddenly felt even more nervous. We were going to be alone in my room, or rather my temporary room.

"So, can I come in or are you gonna make me stand here all night?" He grinned.

"Y-yeah, sorry." I stammered.

The door shut and I was alone with him. It felt like I was in the room with a total stranger. I sat on the bed again and he sat next to me.

"So, earlier on?" He said, and I realised he wanted to continue the conversation. He still remembered me confessing my feelings to him.

"Yes." I whispered. I had no idea what else to say now.

He couldn't really return my feelings due to not seeming to have any of his own. Sociopaths often didn't. I took a shaky breath and he continued to meet my gaze. I was wrong about his eyes being piercing, they were down-right intense. It felt like I was staring into the soul of something that wanted to eat me.

"Y-you don't love me, do you?" I asked, and he raised a brow.

"You don't think I can love, right?" He replied, following my question with a question.

"I just assumed since I don't know you very well now." I admitted, honestly.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before." He said, shrugging like it was just a casual discussion.

"Sounds like a lie to me," I snapped, sounding annoyed, but stopping myself when his eyes narrowed. "You've lied before."

"But you still like me?" He smirked.

I looked away then, feeling stupid. I felt the bed shift and when I looked up, he was right in front of me, sharp eyes piercing into my own. Was this entire talk the start of something?

"I-i just don't want my time wasted." I murmured, meaning for it to come out more sternly, instead it came out like a frightened whisper.

"I don't intend on wasting your time, Kacee." He replied. I nodded and that same coy grin appeared on his face. His lips grazed my ear. "You're mine."

I probably should have argued more against a charming sociopath, but I loved him so I was willing to try. I pulled back and nodded to that as well, not trusting myself to speak.

"N-no more violence," I begged. I could feel my eyes fill with tears. "Please."

"For now, but I will protect you, even if that means I have to be violent." John replied. I sensed we were at a stand-off.

"I know you can be sweet though," I murmured, and lowered my face. His fingers touched my chin and our eyes met. "That wasn't a lie, was it?"

"No, it wasn't." He smiled then, leaning down and kissing me.

I flinched back a little when I recalled the kiss from earlier, but this one seemed gentler so I responded. For now everything would be all right.

Notes