-REIGN ALICIA CROSS-
“Unexpected company is never a problem”
A thumping sound woke me up, making my body jolt upwards. I heaved out a sigh, glancing over the clock that read 2:15 am. My eyebrows furrowed, thinking about the fact that my dad wasn't going home till six. I grabbed my phone from the side table, unlocking it to find a new message coming from my dad. Maybe he's home? - I thought, tapping at the unread message.
Lock the doors and stay inside. We found that Bieber kid but he escaped, he could be anywhere. Be careful, baby. Call me if anything happens.
This was sent ten minutes to go so I quickly wrote a reply,
I will, dad. Be careful.
Tapping the send button, I clutched the phone on my chest as my thoughts diverted on the thumping sound I heard moments ago. Is he here?
And as if to answer the question on my mind, the sound of faint footsteps against the grass of the backyard rang in my ears louder than it actually was. I held my breath, my heart racing at the thought that a killer might be lurking around my house. He could be here on purpose. He could have known I was the daughter of the man who was after him.
"Shit," I heard a faint whisper. I slowly rolled out of bed, walking towards the window where there was a clear view of the backyard. Against the wall was a figure, checking his surroundings as he clutched on his shoulder. And I instantly had the idea that it was the so-called Justin Bieber.
I didn't exactly know what to do. I should've called my dad he was here and get him arrested. But somehow, I couldn't bring myself to do so. Was I actually debating on whether to report a law-abiding criminal or not?
I was a cop's daughter. I had to do it.
I was about to dial my dad's number when I saw his figure drop on the ground, his back still leaned against the wall, his legs sprawled straight and his hand clutched his upper arm. He looked... injured. Biting my lip, I looked at my phone, my dad's contact in sight. And after what it seemed like hours, I finally tapped the call button and slapped the phone to my ear.
That Bieber kid was injured –which only meant he couldn't go anywhere further. I was a cop's daughter. I was supposed to be on the law's side.
After five rings, my dad's voice was heard on the other line. And from that moment on, I didn't want to tell that Justin was on our backyard.
"Hello? Reign, are you okay?" dad asked, his voice filled with worry.
"Y-yes dad. I'm just checking on you," I lied. "Did you find him?"
I heard him sigh, "Well, I'm fine sweetie. And no, he ran fast when the traffic light turned red. He left his car to escape and we didn't quite know where he went. He had put up such a fight. One of the cops shot him though. I'm not sure if he was hit." he explained.
"Well he's in our backyard with a bullet wound on his shoulder, dad," I felt like saying but my mouth decided against it.
"Oh," was the first thing that escaped my lips. "Just uhm... Just tell me if you find him. Be careful, daddy. I love you."
"I will. Love you too,"
With that, I hung up, a sigh of relief escaping my mouth. I felt slightly guilty about lying. But I don't know. I just didn't have the courage to tell. It just kinda felt right to go out there and help Justin hide from the cops. From my own father.
Yes, I’m stupid.
Pulling out the gun my dad made me hide on self-defense purposes from my drawer, I went out of my room and down the stairs. I was scared, honestly. I guess I just loved to take chances. When I reached the door that led to our backyard, I didn't hesitate to open it. I had my guard up and there was no way I'd put it down.
Soon enough I had reached the spot where he chose to crash—without him even noticing. His eyes were closed and his breathing heavy from all the running. His left arm was pressed on his right shoulder were blood was staining his shirt. I couldn't help but gasp, earning his full attention.
He tried to reach out for his weapon but he was currently too slow. I had my gun pointed at him first, "Stop or I shoot," I warned, keeping my voice from shaking. He locked his jaw, slowly lifting only his left arm because the other was limp as a sign of surrender. He knew I had the upperhand at the moment. His gaze was hard on me.
"What you gonna do now? Arrest me?" he asked.
Gulping down, I licked my lips and said that two words that caught him off guard.
"Shut up and follow me..."
He looked at me, speechless, his eyebrows slowly knitting together in confusion,
“What?” he asked in bewilderment.
“I said follow me,” I repeated with a sigh.
He looked at me puzzled while I just stood there. His gaze meeting mine and I couldn't help but notice how beautiful of a criminal he actually was. It might sound so cliché but he was breathtakingly attractive. And to tell you I've never been attracted to a guy before.
What? Bieber is attractive? Oh no way.
"Did you hear me, Bieber?" I asked, taking him by surprise that I actually knew who he was yet I was standing in front of him.
"Where?" he asked, still confused.
"To ride a unicorn." I said sarcastically, "Ofcourse to treat your wound, stupid. We don't want you bleeding to death now, do we?"
He cocked up a brow, "You actually know who I am and you're trying to help me?" he scoffed, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"No," I simply replied, imitating his gesture, "You can't even move both arms now. What's there to be afraid of?"
He looked at me, amused - dumbfounded. I rolled my orbs and grabbed his uninjured arm, the gun still held tight on my hand in case he tried to escape. He winced, but stayed silent anyway. I basically dragged him inside and locked the backdoor behind, leading him up to my room.
"Woah, wait right there lady," he suddenly said, getting out of my grip and looked at me in confusion, "What's this? Is this a trap?"
I chuckled at his question, "A trap? Really?"
"Then why did you bring me here?"
"I thought I already told you."
"I'm a criminal," he stated, matter-of-factly. "Why in the world would you help me?"
I sighed, "Cause I'm stupid. Just stop with the questions already and put your butt in the bathroom," I exasperatedly commanded.
Truth is, I didn't even know the answer to that question.
Contemplating on whether to follow me or not, he stared at my eyes, as if looking for something before he finally decided to be a good boy and walked to the bathroom.
I closed the toilet bowl and gestured for him to sit—which he instantly obeyed. He was quiet, but I could sense his eyes burning holes at the side of my head. I don't know but I didn't even feel afraid at the very moment that an assassin was inside of my house and I was alone.
I reached for the aid kit at the bottom cabinet near the sink, opening it to get the tools I might have needed for his wound.
"Why do you have that in your bathroom?" he suddenly asked.
"My mom used to be a nurse. It's for emergency purposes. Every room has one." I answered as I walked towards him.
I started treating his wound. I, myself studied about treating patients and somehow managed to get the small bullet from his shoulder. I was dabbing on it with disinfectants and everything but not once did he budge nor move. It made me somehow wonder how many times this kind of thing happened to him.
"Does it hurt?" I asked, looking up at him, who was looking anywhere but me.
"Yeah," was all he said. I just nodded and started to bandage the wound. The silence covering the atmosphere between us.
"My dad's after you," I said after a while, gaining his full attention.
"What do you mean?"
I sighed, "My dad's a cop," I said, not wanting the lies to come in first. "Officer Dale Cross."
His mouth fell ajar. I looked down nervously and bit my lip, waiting for anything - just anything that someone like him would do. Quite honestly, I expected to feel pain then and there. But it never came.
"Is that why you brought me here? Because your dad is finding me and you just so happen to catch me?" he asked in a low voice.
"No," I shook my head, looking up. "I... I won't tell..."
"But why?" he asked in disbelief. "You just caught a criminal, your father's a cop and you’re not telling him?"
"Do you really wanna go to jail, Bieber?" I cocked a brow up, getting annoyed.
"I never said that."
"Shut up then, duh," I spat, instantly regretting it.
“Don’t talk to me that way,” his jaw then hardened, his gaze burning holes through me.
And it was then I felt scared of him. I don't know why that simple action and tone of voice scared me. But I wasn't showing it.