When Perfect Meets Crazy

Chapter 46: 44 - Tell us what you know



Chapter 46: 44 - Tell us what you know

I turned back, ready to return to the audience when a dark figure filled my field of vision, a hand

clamping down on my mouth before I could scream. Fear like never before exploded in my chest. Even

worse than when my dad was in one of his moods.

Unthinkingly, I swung my fist out, aiming for the throat. Never had I been gladder for muscle memory

and adrenaline induced clear headedness. Even as terror choked me, I found myself objectively

itemizing perceived weaknesses and attack points. This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

My hand curved in a perfect arc heading for his throat. He released me in favor of blocking the blow. It

was expected but a part of me was still shocked it had worked.

Before my hand even connected with his raised forearms, I began executing my next move. My leg

swung out, catching his side less than a second later. Parker would’ve been so proud of me.

The assailant cursed under his breath and made another grab for me.

I was ready this time. I jabbed my elbow in his armpit. It wasn’t a calculated move and as soon as I did

it, I wanted to slap myself. Parker would not have approved of such a clumsy tactic.

It had barely been a second since my elbow made contact but my mind was on an adrenaline high and

processing things a mile a second. I readied myself to take whatever hit would come next.

But nothing came.

My terror abated a little when his grimace finally registered in my brain. I saw, more than heard, the

pained grunts escaping from his lips. My ears were filled with white noise. I couldn’t hear anything over

it. Not even sounds of impact from our scuffle.

I finally noticed he was awkwardly cradling the arm of the armpit I had hit to his torso, shooting me a

look that promised pain in my immediate future if he got his way.

I must’ve hit a funny bone.

I sent up a quick prayer of gratitude for the lucky accident. There was no conscious decision. No

weighing my options. My brain wasn’t even processing options. Only one thing popped into my head;

run.

My fist made contact with his nose while he was still distracted by the effects of the armpit hit. It didn’t

break but I was willing to bet it still hurt immensely. I turned on my heel ready to bolt regardless of the

direction.

“Shit,” he cursed softly behind me. “Little bitch. Ian conveniently did not mention that.”

I stopped on my tracks. Froze was more like it.

“Who are you?” I fell into a defensive stance as I turned around.

“Did your dad teach you that move?” He grunted, slowly righting himself.

The way he said it sent shivers down my spine. It wasn’t particularly malicious but the thought that he

knew my dad was chilling.

“Who are you?” I swallowed.

He inclined his head as though taunting me; guess. I drew in a shaky breath, my hands clenching into

fists as a warning.

“Give it your best shot.” His expression was condescending even as his eyes hardened to glaciers.

He knew me. Knew Ian. Knew my dad was the sheriff and was confident enough to not care.

“Town?” I asked, suspicion coloring my tone.

I refrained from saying his full name in case I was wrong and it wasn’t Agent Townsend. If it was him,

that should be enough of a hint for him to know that I knew and if it wasn’t him, whoever it was wouldn’t

be able to claim the identity and pretend to be him.

“That little bastard.” He hissed, eyes narrowing in distaste. “He told you about me too.”

Relief spread through my lungs. It was him.

“I figured it out.” I hissed back, still maintaining my defensive stance. “What were you trying to do just

now?”

“Well, I wa--” He frowned, abruptly stopping.

His gaze met mine, distrust mirroring in both.

“What are you doing here?” His tone was just as suspicious as mine. “According to Ian, you’d never

voluntarily step foot in this place.”

“I would not,” I agreed and straightened up. Something about his response set me at ease. Reminded

me he was one of the good guys. “We shouldn’t be here. We should talk somewhere else.”

He nodded, understanding filled his gaze as it flitted down the corridor. It was too open and

conspicuous. Anyone, precisely the people I had been following, could walk back any second.

“Fine. Follow me.”

He led me in the opposite direction, down a series of corridors I didn’t recognize. Distrustfully eyeing

the back of his head, I palmed the taser in my pocket, silently reassuring myself of its presence.

He kept going, deeper and deeper into the heart of the building. Just as I began seriously

contemplating whether or not to tase him and make a run for it, we finally turned into a hallway I

recognized. It was the one that led me to Ian’s dressing room last time.

I sighed in relief, grateful that I wouldn’t have to resort to attacking a federal agent. Well, any more than

I already had.

With two sharp raps of his knuckle, the door swung open to reveal an anxious Ian.

“Were you able to loose Con?” he asked immediately, not noticing me behind Townsend’s bulky frame.

“Yes. I didn’t make it back in time though,” Townsend answered. “Next time.”

It was a promise that had me shivering lightly. Ian heaved a sigh, disappointment clear on his features.

He pushed the door open wide and walked back into the room, to sit down.

I interpreted what I had heard and decided they was referring to the men I followed in some way. It

would explain why Townsend was in that corridor. If this Con was the lookout, then it explained why I

didn’t get caught. Con must have been preoccupied keeping Townsend away. Hence why I was able to

slip through. No wonder it seemed too easy.

Townsend shuffled inside and I followed behind him, shutting the door in our wake.

“Avy.” Ian gasped, eyes widening with horror.

“Hi.” I pasted on a smile and awkwardly waved.

He stiffened, eyes honing in on Townsend. He seemed to finally take note of Townsend’s bruised nose

and the awkward angle he was holding his left hand at. Or maybe he only cared now since I, a civilian

and whatnot, was involved.

“What happened?” he asked.

His tone could easily rival the seventh circle of hell. Gone was the funny carefree boy I was used to

seeing. In his place was a serious, angry person I had only ever glimpsed once before.

Townsend rolled his eyes dismissively.

“She attacked me,” he supplied sourly, gingerly flexing his left arm. The armpit arm.

Ian’s questioning gaze swung to me.

“I did,” I confessed as he looked me over, scrutinizing me from my hairdo to my sandals. “But in my

defense, he came at me first.”

“You weren’t hurt right?” His voice sounded just the tiniest bit scared.

I shook my head.

“I’m fine.” To lighten the mood, I added, “You’re not the only one with a family tradition involving

violence.”

He nodded and released the breath he was holding. I frowned. Was he really that worried? Did he

seriously think I couldn’t take care of myself? I bit my lip, unsure how that made me feel.

“These people you were following,” I began, snapping into business mode in the face of unfamiliar

emotions. “They went down the corridor you found me at right?”

At my knowing tone, Townsend shot Ian an exasperated glance.

“You told her that too? Does the word ‘confidential’ mean anything to you?”

This was so much better. I stifled a laugh as I took in Ian’s disgruntled frown.

“He didn’t tell me.” I came to his aid. “I figured it out. The last time I was here, I ran into them. I followed

them. I thought they were heading out back then but I lost track of them and ended up finding Ian so...

recently, I put two and two together and figured things out. I’m smart like that.”

Townsend raised an eyebrow, awarding us an unconvinced look.

“You expect me to believe that a girl who only just turned sixteen figured out all on her own that this

was an undercover operation and that those people w--”

I tilted my head to the side, eyeing him speculatively. His reply was too condescending. Insulting even.

I wasn’t willing to fight the urge to be just as rude.

“I know the concept is new to you but I’ve been this way my whole life.” My gaze met his, wordlessly

challenging him as I cut him off. “It’s called brilliance. I’m a genius and as someone who isn’t, I don’t

expect you to understand what I’m capable of.”

“Hang on.” Shock and disbelief dominated Ian’s face. “You’re sixteen?”

Townsend and I frowned, both our gazes turning Ian’s way. He looked me up, did he not? How did he

miss my age?

It was clear Townsend was thinking the same thing.

“But you’re in your final year,” Ian refuted, shaking his head in denial.

Townsend and I exchanged an exasperated look.

“I’ve mentioned this before, I’m pretty sure. I’m really smart. I was ahead of all the other kids as child so

I skipped two classes. At separate points. My excellent lawyer of a mom strong armed the school into

creating a special syllabus for me after consulting with a handler for geniuses.” I paused, a frown

marring my face. “That’s what Olly and I call her. I don’t know what her proper job title is.”

I shrugged unrepentantly.

“Anyway, thanks to her, I was able to skip two classes ahead.” I took in the disbelieving look in his eyes

and way he was still shaking his head like he couldn’t quite process this bit of information. “I thought

you knew all this.”

“Did you not read her file?” Townsend chipped in, flashing me an exasperated look.

“Christ.” I sighed, shaking my head lightly. “Let’s give him a moment to process this. He’s a bit slow, if

you haven’t noticed.”

That snapped Ian out of his stupor. He scowled.

“You’re awfully mouthy for a sixteen year old,” he snarled.

I cocked my head to the side, arching a brow in my most condescending ‘oh really’ look.

“I’d agree with you but age has nothing to do with it. After all,” I folded my arms across my chest,

“you’re both older but it took me only two trips to this hell hole to figure all this out,” I gestured to the

ceiling in a circular all-encompassing motion, “while you two still haven’t figured anything out in... how

long have you been here again?”

Townsend bared his teeth.

“I’d say I’ve earned the right to be mouthy, don’t you think?”

That shut them both up. I allowed myself a victorious smile.

“Now, do you want to know exactly what it is I figured out or do you want to keep commenting about my

age,” my gaze flicked to Ian, “or indirectly threatening me?” It flitted to Townsend.

They both scowled.

“Just tell us what you know.”


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