Chapter 6

VI. Tracker

PIERS AND I HAD been friends since childhood. But it's not the kind of friendship where we would always hang out, have pajama parties and stay up late telling each other our deepest secrets. We'd only talk whenever Camilla goes to the Nivans' household to talk to her best friend and since I didn't want to be left alone with Henry, I'd rather go with my mother even if I didn't want to. I know that Piers only put up with me because Lorraine said so, saying that I didn't have a lot of friends and that he should be nice to me, given that he had a bit of a sarcastic attitude. Although our mothers wanted us to get along, I mean... we do get a long but for as long as I can remember, I don't ever recall being his friend. We treated each other in between, as I'd personally called it. We treated each other in between... in between hot and cold, in between love and hate... in between enemy and friendship. I didn't know if he was just like that because of his family background or there's something else. I never bothered to observe him as we had never gone to the same school. So I was very bewildered when I learned that he had investigated my father for years and stated that he considered me his friend.

It was already the last week of May when I discovered a beach in one of my road trips around the city. It was half an hour away from the apartment and it made me think of the other things I might have missed here in my stay when I wouldn't be here for too long. It was afternoon, almost evening, and it was enough for me to see the scorching sunset that day. I leaned against the hood of my car as I took a picture of it and suddenly remembered the last time I went to the beach with my mother. She was depressed so I decided to take her out of the house and to the place she loved the most. Camilla loved the smell of the salty summer breeze and how it used to make her feel at peace at the view of the sunset and the calm waves. However, I think it just had the opposite effect, and I instead brought the worst in her. Because..., I heaved a sigh at the memory, staring at the picture of the sunset before deleting it from Piers' phone. The day after that, I saw her dead in her room, holding an empty bottle of antidepressants.

I tried to shrug the thought off and stared down at Piers' phone. Now that I've thought about it, Piers would be home in a few days so I guess I'll go back to Los Angeles the day after tomorrow. Lorraine didn't mind as long as I text her every day, and as for Piers, well, I haven't informed him about that. I just have to make sure to leave the apartment the same state we left it.

I still kept complying to my routines nonetheless, although I am more on cardio in the past weeks of my stay here, I'm also at the shooting range practicing more on my aims because my vision is not that good. When I get back, I'm sure my combat instructor would double my training menu.

"Your shoulders are tensed," A voice commented from behind me, making me crane my neck to the source. I lowered my gun as my eyes were greeted by a tall, well-built man, whom I estimated to be the same age as Piers. Through those yellow protective glasses were his dark eyes brooding with a mischievous glint to it and lips curled upward into those kind of smiles that you often see in the magazines.

"Oh," I said in a monotone voice.

"Have you ever fired a gun before?" He took a step towards me then looked at my target.

"Yeah, I was just getting the hang of it."

"Okay," He muttered, suddenly entering in my personal space. I mentally shake my head as I pointed the gun at the target again and shot twice, then to my surprise, his hands travelled to my shoulders, involuntarily sending a shiver down my spine. He relaxed my shoulders and positioned them properly before saying, "Okay, try it again."

I followed what he said and shot at the target and to my amusement, it slightly improved. I continued shooting until I heard the familiar click of the gun. I took a deep sigh and turned around to come face to face with the guy, his smug aura still intact. I arched an eyebrow and secretly scanned the surroundings, seeing as though there was a group of guys looking at our direction with expressions similar to this guy in front of me. I fought the urge to heave a sigh.

"I'm Vincent, by the way." He took his hand out and I stared down at it before staring back at his face. He didn't take it as a sign that I didn't want anything to do with him and so, he took me by the wrist. "Are you new here? I've never seen you here before."

"I'm here on a vacation..." I trailed off, getting a bit irked off, and I didn't bother to hide it. I don't know if he's simply dense or he just doesn't care. His lips arched into a small smirk, his eyes conspicuously glancing to the side, to the group of men watching us with amused faces. "My hand, please."

"Hey, how about I tour you around the city? What do you say?" He offered, his grip on my wrist tightening a little, too. I felt the urge to snort and roll my eyes. I didn't want to hurt anybody but...

"Let go," I said, my tone flat. It only rewarded me to make Vincent's smirk grow wider. He must have thought that I'm crazy for requesting that... no, when in fact it was a warning.

"Come on, don't be such a killjoy."

"Let go," I said again, "or I'll break your wrist."

Most of the people are busy with their own businesses, which I can't blame them for not noticing that I'm practically getting harassed over here. From my peripheral vision, I saw his friends coming towards me and it resulted me to letting out a sigh, trying to calm the adrenaline that was starting to surge through my bloodstreams.

"I don't want to hurt you." I warned, but he laughed and what he said next completely pushed me over the edge.

"Oh, you can hurt me somewhere else, alright."

When I felt someone grab me from behind, the next thing that happened relied to my instincts. I drove my elbow hard to the pit of his stomach and heard a wheezing exhale. Then I grabbed Vincent's hand and quickly twisted it to its snapping point, sending him to his knees with a cry of agony. I felt someone rushing to me and I swung my elbow to him and felt it connect and immediately went to his side to dig a finger on his nerve cluster, rendering him paralyzed for a few hours. After that, I instantly turned around with my stance, ready for whoever came next.

"Aw, you bitch!" I heard Vincent cry out, but I ignored him, glaring menacingly at his other friends who immediately backed away in fear when they witnessed what I was capable to do.

"Was geht hier vor sich?" I heard the voice of the German owner of the shooting range, his thick accent boomed around the room. He came rushing to me. "Geht es dir gut, Ms. Hansen? Are you okay?"

"Are you kidding me?" Vincent continued writhing in pain, "I'm the one you should be asking that! This bitch broke my wrist!"

"Es geht mir gut, Mr. Abel," I said, glancing apathetically at Vincent. "But I'm not sure if I could say the same for these gentlemen."

"What happened?" Mr. Abel asked with furrowed eyebrows. The guards came rushing in to the scene, and tried to help the crying guys up.

"Well—"

"This bitch broke my wrist!" Vincent repeated, which made me roll my eyes.

"Vincent," I smiled sweetly, "dear, shut up or I'll break your other wrist to make them even."

Vincent immediately nodded, fear evident in his expression. I turned my attention back to Mr. Abel. "As I was saying, Mr. Abel, these gentlemen just... had the wrong approach. Nothing to require much of your concern and I apologize for the commotion I made."

He nodded, unsure.

I guess this would be the last time I'd go to this shooting range... I sighed, taking my earmuffs and protective glasses off and continued explaining just so the unnecessary issue wouldn't be big. I convinced the owner not to ban the goons, and offering Vincent one final smile, I saw myself out of the shooting range, embarrassed that I dragged the people's attention. I'm a little apathetic and not good at making friends, but it doesn't mean that I enjoyed hurting them. As Lorraine said, studying combat was for self-defense and safety. I thought that she was just paranoid at first, seeing as I cared less about myself but now I'd have to agree to that and feel a little relieved and grateful.

It was almost evening when I got back to the apartment, and I was kind of confused and alarmed when I noticed that the lights were already on. I always made sure to leave everything off so I instantly knew that there was someone else inside the apartment. Could it be another one of Vincent's goons? No, that's impossible. I slowly closed the door, careful not to inform the intruder of my presence. I examined my surroundings, my eyes shifting from one corner to another and immediately noticed Piers' bedroom door slightly ajar. Alarmed, I quietly took off my shoes to prevent treads and walked along the living room, guarding all of my senses. I stopped in front of Piers' bedroom door, pulled out my Glock 19 and with a deep breath, I opened the mahogany door and pointed my gun at whoever might be inside the dark room. Just as I was about to realize that the ajar door was only to lure me in, I gasped when I felt something press against my back, something sharp, cold and metallic—a knife.

"You know if I were a real intruder, I would've had you easily." A very familiar voice spoke with an amused tone which didn't fail to make my heart stop. He lowered the weapon and it was my cue to turn around to come face to face with him...

"Piers!" I exclaimed in surprise, staring at him with dilated eyes. "What are you doing here?" I asked, and it made him cock an eyebrow in question.

"Why not? This is my apartment, too," He retorted.

"No, I mean, I thought you said that you're coming straight to LA to meet us? And you also said that you'd be home in June." I couldn't recognize the tone of my voice, it was high-pitched and rapid, as if I couldn't wait to bombard him with questions. I didn't expect to see him this soon that I was still in awe.

"I should be the one asking you that. I thought I told you to stay at my parents'?"

What made it even more surprising is that he didn't seem surprised about finding me in his apartment, but at the same time I was more than happy that I was able to see him again after being away from him for almost a year. I tried my best to conceal the fact that I was very excited to see him but then I couldn't wipe the stupid grin off my face.

"I just had my blood test two weeks ago. And," I gestured toward the whole apartment, "I missed this place."

I caught his lips slightly twitching upward, but then he turned serious. "I know, but it's dangerous to live alone."

"Yes, I'm aware. But I know self-defense."

Piers snorted then rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right."

I crossed my arms, "Why didn't you tell me that you were returning sooner than expected?"

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you succeeded, alright." I said, "So... are you mad?"

"I thought the idea was stupid. But then my mother tried to convince me that you're going to be fine on your own, and you also have your tracker with you just in case—"

"Wait, I have a tracker?"

"Yeah," He said, "the phone that I'd given you was sponsored by the BSAA. And it has a tracker, as well."

"Oh..." Maybe that's why he'd gone straight in here instead in Los Angeles, because he knew I was here. Then I stopped to realize something, if the phone I was using was sponsored by the BSAA and even has a tracker, then...

"Hey, Piers, does that mean the BSAA keeps track of phone records and call transcripts?" I asked slowly, becoming nervous because somehow even I know the answer to that question.

"Yeah, but I didn't bother to go through that database..." He looked at me, as if he was trying to decipher something out of that question. Damn, observant BSAA soldiers.

"Okay, I see." I said with a light smile, then I snatched the knife from him and gave him my gun. "I'm going to prepare dinner." I walked past him and went to the kitchen. When I'm out of sight, my shoulders sagged as I thought of the contents of the phone.

Even if Piers isn't the kind of person to invade a person's privacy, still, he's not the only person who can search through the phone's records... and even if I wouldn't give a single care about what others might think when they see it, I simply do when it's him.

"Scheiße..." I cursed softly in my mothertongue, smiling. Phyllis and I talk about him all the damn time...