Aim For The Heart My Bloody Valentine

Have you ever tried to wash crusted blood off of your body? Your entire body? It's not that easy when you're in a rush to get out of the shower. Marc is at the other end of the bathroom door and I want to get away as soon as possible. He's a boy and I'm a girl... see the issue? Plus he's a murderer. The blood that seeped down the drain gave me the hee-bee gee-bees; the once crusted brown stuff all over me now a deep red.

Anyways, the moment I couldn't see a single speck on my now red skin, caused by an immense amount of rubbing, I grabbed one of the hotel towels to dry off; a small crack sounding as the rack screeched in despair.

The bathroom was fairly simple, very cliché to the typical hotel fashion. The tiles of the floor are a cake batter in color and simple, flowered wallpaper covered the walls. Honestly, I'd only seen this before in movies, so I do enjoy the new scenery. On top of the sink counter rested my duffel, slightly stained with Ant's blood. I quickly tied the towel around my body and grabbed a pair of fresh clothes out of the bag. As usual, I kept it simple and clean; black slacks and a blue tank top. And no more Pucca underwear!

Eventually, I wandered out of the bathroom and was surprised to see the room was vacant. I suppose Marc was in the main room or something. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to the main room and was met with an extremely awkward situation.

"Um... am I interrupting anything?" I questioned as observed the image in front of me. B.B.B was straddling an exhausted looking Marc on the couch I had woken up on. Her fiery eyes were glowering at me, while Marc looked quite pleased at the sudden interruption.

"Yes, you did. Thank you," Marc commented, pushing B.B.B off of his lap. That action only succeeded in confusing me more. Did he not want her trying to jump his bones? Hey, the girl may be a bitch from hell, but I'll admit she's extremely sexy... in that bitch way. Whoa! Maybe Marc's gay?!

I watched awkwardly as Marc walked up to me, barely stopping in time to not crash into me. I didn't have to look to feel the hatred steaming off of B.B.B.

"I believe I never answered your question. Perhaps this is a lesson not to drink," Marc crooned. I blinked at him, my memory having faded slightly since that night. But then it hit me.

"Jurke?"

"He stayed behind to remove all traces of our presence there. Especially where you failed to catch that kid's body. It is a lot harder to remove blood from soil and grass than on a solid floor. Jurke is out chemical specialist; he does his job very well and he's very good at being untraceable. He'll eventually meet us at..." Marc paused. "Home."

Home... Am I finally going to have one? Or will B.B.B get rid of me before I have a chance?

"But, how can he do his job with my sperm donor trying to break down my door?! What's he supposed to do all alone?"

No matter how much an asshole Jurke had been to me, I couldn't help but be concerned. The little prick has grown on me.

"Don't be concerned for the Russian. He wouldn't be working with me if he wasn't capable of handling tough situations," Marc retorted, a slight hint of annoyance evident in his tone.

Now that I'm getting to know him better, I realize that I've misread Marc. He doesn't come out and say what he feels, but he does care for the safety of his pack. People could easily be hurt in this job, so he made sure to choose someone he felt could handle situations safely. Get it?

"And if he didn't make it, then I just have to find a better chemist."

Or not.

"And that is exactly why I don't know why you're here," B.B.B added as she walked up behind Marc. "What makes her able to hand our kind of work?"

Marc glanced over his shoulder and sent a murderous glare at B.B.B. She instantly took a step back from like an obedient bitch dog.

I might be crazy, but I could have sworn she had said she was the alpha.

"You know better than to question me, Marisha," Marc hissed before gracing me with a less intense stare. "You are here for a reason Laila."

I just stood there, waiting for him to tell me what the reason is, but it became quite obvious he wasn't going to tell me when he walked over to the kitchen. So I stood there in the hallway unsurely, wondering what to do. I have a lot of questions raging within me. When are we going this 'home'? Is Marc gay? What's my importance? And when did he come to my town? Somehow, though, I have feeling neither B.B.B, a.k.a. Marisha, nor Marc is willing to answer me at this moment.

With a deep sigh, I trudged over to the sofa and began my dull stare at the TV screen.

..................................

"Wake up!" a stern voice called, bringing me out of my slumber with a gasp.

"What... what's happening?" I called in a haze. This is what happened when you space out in front of the TV.

"Marisha killed one of the employees she was flirting with and hid his body. The sooner we leave, the better. Get your bag, I'm checking us out now," Marc explained before heading for the hotel room phone.

I stared after him for about two minutes, mind completely blank. I simply listened to the warm silk of his voice as he joked with the receptionist in a calm manner. Marc may be the most anti-social person I've ever met, yet the way he performed the friendly hotel guest was spectacular.

A true masterpiece.

"Get your bag, I'm checking us out now."

My eyes widened with a sudden burst of energy. Everything Marc had said suddenly clicked and I found myself running into his room to get my bag. I found it still sitting on the counter, my dirtied clothing still resting in there. And then I realized: there was blood all over the shower.

"Fuck!"