Dangerous Minds | john wick

Chapter Six: Stop

All was going smoothly - in my mind - until I got into the drivers seat. I haven't driven since I was sixteen, which was two years ago.

Shit.

I stare at the reflective key in my hand and at the ignition, and then back at the key. My mind whirling over everything sixteen year old me was taught by my overly frustrated father.

"You've driven before, right?" He stares at me with worried eyes and yet a hint of smirk appears on his lips.

I cross my arms in defence.

"Of course I have... its just been a while." I humph as I release my crossed arms and start the car.

The deep thrum of the engine brings me back to night I first met John. Events that I don't particularly want to see flash in front of me, making me grip the steering wheel hard.

"You alright?" I almost roll my eyes. John with a bullet hole in his abdomen asks ME if I'm okay. God this man is crazy.

Instead of responding verbally, I nod and release the hand break.

I feel a sense of adrenaline as I push down on the gas. No matter how uneducated I am on cars, even I know this is a powerful one.

"Easy". This time I do roll my eyes. I had barley moved forward, I am going easy.

The dark streets eventually turn into the vibrant New York I know and love. People in extravagant fur coats and expensive tailored suits wander the streets with their heads held high. I mean it was late night shopping in one of the most expensive districts, what could you expect?

Then a thought struck me. Where am I going? Do I take him to the hospital? Do assassins normally go to the hospital?

Just ask him stupid.

"Um... did you want me to take you to the hospital?"

Instead of getting a response I get a 'did you just ask me that question' look. I could have slapped him but he was already in enough pain.

"I'll take that as a no". I say as I pass by the sign noting the direction of the closest hospital.

"Considering I was clearly shot by someone, there would be many questions which would undeniably lead to police. People like me either get home quick enough to heal ourselves or we die trying." His voice had lost any playfulness from before hand.

"So where's home?" My question causes a disgruntled sigh to leave him.

"It's not far, just keep following this road and I'll let you know when to turn."

That was the last proper sentence for the entire ride. 'Left' and 'rights' destroyed each eery gap of silence. The 'not far' part of his sentence was completely untrue, after almost thirty minutes in the car I was starting to lose my patience.

"Stop."

Lost in thought, I step on the break a little too hard sending both of us into our seats, hard. John lets out a loud groan causing apologies to fly out of mouth.

"I'm fine, seriously. You might want to focus on pulling into to that driveway though." He juts out his chin indicating to a large wrought iron gate.

I pull the car in front and have to do everything in my power to stop my jaw from dropping.

Infront of me was an architects dream. It's ultramodern style made it stand out from all the other brick town houses on the street. Huge square windows took up most of the space, with bits of light washed wood and black rendered brick creating a Scandinavian feel.