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The trial ended two weeks after I testified. A verdict came in; the men were proven guilty, and would serve 70 years without chance of parole. I was happy about that, and couldn't agree more with it. I had forgotten about Jack Manson, the fact that Blake had shot and killed a man, and even forgotten about my gift for a while. Blake was being really protective, however. All the time, he was around me, calling me, texting me. We never lost contact. It was somewhat strange, but I couldn't really complain. Blake was my best friend, I trusted him with my life. And to be honest, I enjoyed the attention.
It was a Saturday. I lounged on the couch, clicking through channels on the TV. An infomercial about some wonder treadmill came on. My doorknob rattled, and I bolted up, staring it down. I watched as it moved, and I muted the TV. The silence ticked on as it jiggled, a small clicking sound filling the thick air. My heart was racing, my mind going through all the things in my apartment that could be of value to a robber. I reached slowly for the phone, my hand clammy. Maybe I should just run. Where though?
Finally, I heard the lock pop and I flinched. "No, please." I whispered, my heart beating faster and faster as the knob turned. I sat frozen on my couch. I looked around, and frantically moved around the pillows. If this was going to be my final resting place, then gosh darnit it was going to be pretty. "Um. Hales? What are you doing?" Blake's warm voice filled my ears. Everything stopped being so slow, and picked up a normal pace.
I looked up, and fell backwards. "What is WRONG with you?! Why couldn't you have called?! I would've let you in! I thought you were a robber, a serial killer! I thought I was going to DIE! What in the world are you doing?!" I cried, sarcasm dripping from my voice, but still tinged with some fear and humor. Blake sat down beside me, smiling.
"I wanted to invite you . . . to uh . . . a charity event. My aunt hosts one every year. It goes towards leukemia research, and I need a date. Mom has been mad at me for the past four years, because I come alone. I don't want to hear it again this year. And we're cool, we could kick it. Or whatever. Something. Uh."
He was blushing. I'd never seen Blake so red, so . . . embarrassed? No, humility was not a feature that he had. I stared at him, the broke into a fit of laughter. He looked at me, confused and possibly slightly offended. "Are you, like, asking me out?" I questioned. Was this the answer to his odd behavior? He wanted me to go to a charity event, so he was super nice to me? He knew I'd say yes, even if he was the biggest jerk to me for a week and a half. "Of course I will. You weirdo." I smiled largely at him, and he grinned back.
Life was suddenly getting interesting, and I wasn't even the tiniest bit scared. Maybe Blake was my cure.
Meanwhile:
"Ey, Boss." Jay said, sitting down at Mr. Manson's desk. Jack looked up at him. "So I got more info on that Karr girl. She's real stubborn, doesn't have a love life. Doesn't trust people. Her parents died when she was 7."
"If she had called me, then maybe I would've cared about her. But, I don't need her life story anymore Jay. I know what we're going to do." Jack Manson said simply.
"What's that, Boss?" Jay questioned, his brown eyes suddenly brightening with excitement.
"We're gonna kill her, just like we did her mom and dad. I have no use for her. She doesn't want me? Then I don't want her. Living. There's a charity event this Saturday. She's going with that Blake child. We'll do it then. Hayley Karr dies in a week."
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