16. Chelsea

Chelsea

I almost jumped at the voice. Alastair stood in front of me, scrutinizing me carefully with his head tilted. He was wearing a black sweatshirt. His veiny hand flexed a gun in his grip. His blue eyes looked concerned.

I took a long breath to calm my heartbeat. And boom! Shoving the gun inside his waistband, he was down, kneeling before me. He doesn't care about the rules at all, does he?

“Chelsea.”

So, he really remembers my name? I think it was the first time he called me by my name.

I squirmed beneath his touch as he put his hand on my cheek, wiping the tears off my face with his thumb. “You are crying?" He asked very softly.

I almost forgot that the tears were still falling from my eyes. Stupid onions.

“I'm not crying.” I removed his hand from my face and wiped my own tears. He can't touch me. I still hadn't forgotten how he told me to get out of that car. Exhaling a deep breath, I added, “It's... because of onions. I was working then... she told me to bring naga from