Dangerous Minds | john wick

Chapter Twenty: Fuck You

Small stones tear holes in my socks and make my feet scream in agony as I run up the gravel pathway. I had no time to put on the shoes I had packed in my bag.

I push myself to go faster as I spot the two large bins. Behind them is an intimidating fence, camouflaged by the dark night. It's tall and looks almost impossible to climb, but its the only option I have.

I hurl the backpack over, feeling slightly guilty as the fresh designer leather smacks onto the dusty ground. With not time to think through the ins and outs of what I'm about to do, I grip onto the large industrial sized trash can and climb onto its solid plastic lid.

The sound of fast approaching footsteps surges my adrenaline.

I wrap my hands around the rough wrought iron fence and begin to climb. The matte material makes it easier for me not to slip as I steadily make my way up.

My hand shakily reaches up and lands on top of the fence causing me to cry out in pain. Fuck. I glance up and realise too late that the top ridge of the fence is covered in sharp silver spikes.

The click of a loaded gun stills my thoughts.

"Don't make me use it, Mila."

"Fuck you." I manage to spit out as I grasp two of the spikes and desperately pull myself over.

I wince as the protruding points rip parts of my clothing and dig into my skin. And then I fall. Hard.

The impact of the solid ground on my back knocks the wind out of me and leaves me semi-conscious for a quick moment.

The image of Levi with a gun - and most likely several other members of security - appears in my dazed mind. It's enough to get me moving again. I am not dying tonight. Not on my birthday.

As I push myself up, I get a glimpse of my torn up jeans and blood soaked legs. I would have gagged if I wasn't trying to stay quiet.

The pain from the cuts makes me squirm as I get up and scour the ground for my backpack. I run my hands through my hair as my panic increases. The bag is gone. Or at least camouflaging very well.

The thump of somebody landing on the trash lid brings me back to my senses. I'll find clothes somewhere else. They're not that important.

I take off into the tangled mess of trees and shrubs. Stray sticks snagging at my already torn up legs. I head in the direction that I think the road is. I pray with my entire life that John is there. Otherwise I'm beyond screwed.

My energy begins to drain as I push through the thick greenery. My legs hurt, my ribs feel broken and my breathing is unsteady. I know I cant stop, because if I do I wont move again.

My breath hitches as the distant sound of a running car catches in the wind.

I pull every inch of energy I can and sprint. Ignoring the sharp pains and my shrivelled lungs.

I almost collapse onto the ground as I break away from the bush and step onto solid, tree free ground.

I feel the need to scream with joy when I look down the road and spot a black sports car. It's not Johns style but it's all black, including the insanely tinted windows. I know for a fact it's his.

The drivers side door clicks open and I watch as John steps out of the car, his face clear with shock. It takes me a minute to remember my appearance isn't how it was before I left the house.

"Found her!".

The next moments happen in a form of slow motion. My mind too exhausted to take in what is happening.