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Chapter 27 || Nerve Wracking

It wasn't such an obvious attack at first as it was clearly being somewhat concealed trying to conceal it to the other individuals in Tim Hortons. But it was an attack none the less.

One man, skinny, tall, tattoos covering his arms and a scar scanning down his face walked towards us. Sure he looked tough, but with his attire, brown slacks and blue tucked in dress shirt, he looked like any average guy grabbing Timmies before he headed off for last minute work at the office.

He walked over to our table sat down with his briefcase sitting in front of him, Noah had me whipped around the table, his arm around my waist before the guy lifted the handle. It seemed nice, the protective stance that he was taking, but I had to remember that I shouldn't like it. This relationship, it wasn't healthy. I decided at that moment to stay there though, because I knew, I just knew something wasn't right. The man looked up at us standing from his place in the chair, giving us a brief smile, a creepy brief smile, and then he stood up, pushed his chair in and walked out the door.

He left his briefcase on the table.

It only took seconds and Noah was dragging me out of Tim Hortons towards the door. But it was too late as I saw the man with the tattoos and scars smile at us once again from outside the building as he pressed the button.

My world was then filled with fire, smoke and explosions.

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The whole building exploded with a number of people working inside. They all died.

Well at least that's what I think. Noah and I didn't stay long enough to find out. We were in his truck and driving away before the response vehicles even showed.

He was driving.

"Noah," I said. My hand was clutching onto the 'holy shit handle' as Noah sped down the 401 highway.

"Noah, where the hell are we going?" I asked, looking over at him with a worried expression.

"I don't know, I can't take you back with me. We both know the hell we caused than. And I can't just leave you alone." he said with a sigh.

"Just bring me home." I answered.

"I already said I can't do that."

"I mean my parents house," i replied sarcastically.

"Sarah, you're no safer there than you are at your apartment. If anything you're setting up your entire family to get hurt."

"Well where else am I supposed to go?"

"I could send you to Europe."

I gave him a deadpanned glance "Dude, it's almost christmas, I'm pretty sure every flight out of Canada is booked to the max."

"I have a private jet." he replied.

"I'm not going to Europe. I want to spend christmas with my family."

"I'll fly your family out than."

"No. Have you ever considered the questions that will raise?" I asked, giving him the look. I know we have already discussed this, but every girl knows the look. The look of complete stupidity shown by the individuals around them kind of look.

"Okay fine, go home and celebrate christmas, but don't blame me if you die," Noah sped up the car, the off-ramp was fast approaching and he quickly sped onto to switch lanes. A couple minutes later we were heading towards my house.

This was going to be interesting.

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Forty-five minutes later we were pulling into my parents driveway. Noah slowly navigated the vehicle into the grass beside my moms beat up old ford minivan. Her choice in vehicles were awful.

Jumping out of the vehicle I grabbed my purse and swung it over my shoulder. Me and Noah hadn't stopped at my apartment prior to coming home. We were both worried that there would be a surprise waiting there too.

We walked up the two steps leading to the breezeway, it was a mess as always, snow drifting in, and it was just as cold as the air outside. We came to the front door and I braced myself for what was about to happen. Walking in, seeing my family. That wasn't the scary part though.

The scary, nerve wracking part of walking through the front door of my home was the fact that I had Noah standing by my side.

The man who kidnapped me. This ought to work out well.

Sorry this chapter was so short guys :/ It's just been an emotionally tiring week. Like everything has sucked. I wont to just spend all of my time in bed. But of course that isn't an option. Grades and shit demand me to write stupid 18 page reports and write stupid analytical essays and... why do we even have to do this shit? I hate school...

Anyways! and if you enjoyed this chapter!

Also.... I follow everyone back btw.... @AnnaBezoo (instagram and twitter username...)

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God bless,

Anna.

P.S. Who has also had an emotionally tiring week and all you want to do is lie in bed and cry?