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CHAPTER TWO
JULIAN
She had been silent for the entire ride, Morla’s jacket was wrapped around her shoulders, and a cat sat comfy in her lap. She rested her head on the cold window as rain fell in torrents over the small car in the middle of nowhere. I had stopped to buy her lunch, but she would not touch her food, and her lips moved silently. She wasn’t used to this kind of life, she had been taken out of her routine, and that was enough to destabilize her.
Her blue glassy eyes glistened even under the scant illumination of the inside of the vehicle. She ran her fingers lazily through the fur of the cat as it purred, breaking the silence.
“We’ll be there in the next hour. Are you sure you don’t want to eat anything?” I pressed.
“You said you got out of TheWonder Project,” she spoke, her eyes still glued on the droplets of water that fell onto the window she pressed her head against. “It is not possible. You’re a liar.”
“Boy’s Ville, bunker Seven.”
“Boy’s Ville is not the same as The Wonder Project; they are two different entities,” she sniffed. “The Wonder Project is a much bigger enterprise, and you must be stupid to think there is a way out.”
“You are the way out.”
“You don’t know shit about me.”
“I know you carry their main chip, and the information would destroy them all.”
She looked at me, a smile in her eyes.
“You must also know that I was not built for the sexual pleasures of men, I was built to kill men.” It was a sinister smile that made the car colder despite the fact that I had turned on the heater.
Her face was pale, almost as white as the cat that sat in her lap, and her hair was damp as if it swallowed moisture from the rain outside. There were dark red circles around her eyes that showed she had cried a great deal, and her lips were cracked from the tube that had to be placed in her mouth. Something about her spoke loudly about the monster they had created within her, and how it was slowly awakening. Morla had been able to tame her to an extent, but the look in her eyes at the moment was becoming rogue, too rogue to handle.
“I know that,” I responded quietly. “I know all about that. And Gia, I’m willing to take the gamble.”
She relaxed back in her seat, closed her eyes, and let out a sigh.
“You are a fucking fool, Julian. A fucking fool.”
I was for her, and for her, I would do all I could to keep her safe. Little did she know of the horrors that awaited her, and the hungry people in power that wanted her for their own selfish intentions.
We soon pulled into the driveway of my house, and she turned to look at me. “You’re rich,” she said.
We stepped out of the car and walked into the house, there was someone ready to take my bag. His name was Orson, my respected butler who would do as I said when I said, and exactly how I said it.
“Marisa called,” he stopped as I approached the entryway with my arm around the shoulders of a young woman protectively. “She wanted to know if you will make it to the…” his voice trailed off as the face of the girl began to register. “Oh my God!” His mouth hung open for a brief moment before he closed it again. He knew who she was. “Oh my God!” he went pale, stumbling behind us.
Once we were in the living room I stopped, and Orson who now had tears in his eyes also stopped.
“Orson, I want you to meet Gia, she will be staying with us from now on. And Gia, meet Orson. He is the butler here, and he will tend to your needs. Whatever it is you want, if I’m not here ask Orson, okay?” She nodded her head slowly, probably exhausted and ready for bed. “I’ll show you to your room, and help you run a bath,” I put a hand on her elbow.
“Can I take the cat?” Orson held out his arms. “I’ll wash him-”
“Her,” she corrected. “Her name is Mr. Pickles.” She cocked her head and a small smile brushed her lips. “She is often mistaken for a male cat.”
“Oh, I see,” Orson responded.
She handed the cat to Orson. I put my arms around her shoulders again and helped her upstairs to the room where she would be staying. It was still the same as it had always been. The draperies were still the same, the bed was still the same, and the décor was exactly how she liked it. It was all untouched, but it was all new to her.
Gia’s eyes roamed around the room as if she was stepping into a world she had just been introduced to. She looked over her shoulder to where I stood by the door watching her trying to understand it all.
She was different now, and it was something that was difficult to come to terms with. I walked her through the room, showed her the attached bathroom, and followed her into the walk-in closet that was filled with her own clothes.
She looked at me squarely, “you’re fancy.” Then, under her breath she muttered, “this is all too fancy. For someone who just wants to lay low…”
