Cold Blooded

By @Ginger2019

Cold Blooded

By @Ginger2019

At 17, Nixie Parker, or the “Shade Assassin” is already Astroria’s most wanted villain. Nothing and no one gets past her impenetrable walls of steel, especially now as she is on a mission to avenge her father. Then she meets Atlas Rivero, who gets in the way of her plan in every way possible. As feelings between the two grow, so does the tangled web of secrets between them. When secrets come to light, both are faced with seemingly impossible choices; ones that will change their lives forever.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Two hours later, I am hobbling out of the emergency room on crutches with a black cast on my foot, Atlas by my side. I’ve never used crutches before and it’s even harder to get a hang of with the heavy plaster cast throwing me off balance. Trying to hop over a curb, my cast catches on it and I topple over. Thankfully, Atlas catches me before I hit the ground.

“Thanks,” I mumble. This is so frustrating.

“No problem,” he says, handing me the crutch that I dropped when I tripped. “You sure you don’t me to carry you?”

“No, I’m pretty positive. This is mortifying enough.”

I am trying so hard to remain cheery, but it’s proving to be pretty impossible right now.

“It would be a lot easier, but if you say so…” he says grinning.

That grin is really annoying.

“I say so. And wipe that stupid grin off your face. I have crutches and I’m not afraid to use them. From my height, I can easily use this crutch to hit you someplace very painful.”

I’m not joking. At my current-and disappointing-height of 5’3” and Atlas’ height of what I’m guessing is 5’11”ish, I could easily hit him pretty painfully in the balls.

“Noted,” he says, struggling to replace his grin and laughter with a scowl.

I mutter, “Idiot” under my breath and pick up my pace, somehow beating him to his car.

I am not in the mood for singing right now and I think Atlas realizes the same trick won’t work twice on me.

I give Atlas an address that is a couple blocks away from my house. It’s a much nicer block than mine so Atlas won’t think I’m some poor bum and plus, I don’t want him knowing where I live just yet. I can’t stand it when people treat me like a charity case.

The ride is silent, both of us in our own little worlds. When we pull up to “my house” Atlas parks in front of it and I unbuckle and gather my stuff. As I am about to open the car door, Atlas grabs my arm.

“Nix, you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever’s going on, I am here and I’m not going anywhere” he says, trying to lock eyes with me.

“Yea Atlas sure. Tell your uncle I say thank you.” I snap, shrugging his hand off my arm.

“Hand me your phone.”


“Just trust me will you?”

Fine. I unlock my phone and hand it over. I watch as his fingers fly over the screen. After a minute, he hands it back. He was on the contact app and pulled up is a new contact that I didn’t have before. His contact information.

“There, now if you ever need to talk, just hit me up,” he says.

“Kay, thanks. I’m going to go now.” I snapped.

He put his hands up in surrender.

“Ok, see you tomorrow then.” he concedes.

I awkwardly get out of the car, fumbling with my crutches and backpack.

I watch from the curb as the Jeep disappears from sight. Looking down the street towards my Aunt’s house and my cast, I can tell that this is going to take a while.

When I finally reach my Aunt’s house, I find Aunt Suzy spread eagle on the couch, sound asleep with a wine bottle in her hand. Of course. What did I expect? That she would be there, not a drop of alcohol in sight, to hug me and tell me it will be alright? No. I can only rely on myself.

After an incredibly awkward trip up the stairs, I throw my backpack on my bed and collapse on the floor. I fish my phone out of my pocket and stare at it. I really want to talk to someone, but the one person who would sort-of know what I’m going through is Selene. And Selene definitely does not want to talk to me right now. Maybe I should just call her and see what happens.

The phone rings once and then goes directly to voicemail. Well, guess that answers that question! I don’t think leaving a voicemail is a good idea-I’ll probably just make her even more ******. Maybe tomorrow I’ll try to make things better, but for now, I think I’ll just focus on one thing at a time. For right now, I think my homework would be a good place to start.

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