Kiera
Justin said there was a job to do—we had to rob a jewellery store. He didn't want me to go alone (for obvious reasons) so he offered to tag along. I was shocked, and so was everyone who stayed with us. He announced four months ago that he's retiring from the agencies and would only supervise trainings and take reports. And obviously, people spoke.
"It's obviously because of Kiera," someone muttered.
"Oh yeah, her weird ass condition," the other snickered.
All these people know how to do is talk. They act like they're my friends or something, but the moment I have a 'freak out', they point fingers, laugh or run away, leaving me for dead. Assholes.
Justin didn't say anything when they tried to question him on his sudden decision to step back into the field.
I locked myself in my room most of the day, throwing punches at the punching bag Justin got me for me. Then before he could knock, I opened the door.
"Oh," he giggled. "You good? Or you need to talk?"
I scoffed. "Just tell everyone to shut the hell up before I pull someone's teeth out."
He laughed and walked in. "Oh, shut up." He drops on my bed, a warm smile on his face. All my frustration melts away. Justin was all the therapy I need. I loved every inch of him. I hated it when he felt like he wasn't doing enough, when he's been doing too much even! Younger me always talked about how I'd marry him and honestly, I still would if he wasn't so deep in his 'single till death' mentality after his fiancee died.
"Are you nervous? About tonight? You could always—," I cut him off.
"No! I'll do it… I want to," I say out loud.
He looked shocked for a bit, then he smiled.
The target was a jewellery store in the market district. It wasn't anything big. Or fancy, so we could easily go unnoticed.
We made it to the district a few minutes past sunset, just as Justin had planned.
"Put on the earpiece. I'll keep watch. If anything comes up, just buzz. Alright?" He said as he handed the earpiece to me.
Under the cover of dark, I slip into the unguarded building, picking the locks of the back door. I managed to make it in—compared to the other shit I've done, this was relatively easier. All I had to do was take anything pretty and walk out. Simple as pie.
I started picking out the stuff, putting anything shiny into my backpack. So far, so good. Nothing was going wrong and the mission was going on smoothly.
"How are you doing?" Justin checked up.
"I'm good. All's clear for now—"
Just as I ended the sentence, the voices started again.
"Blow the place up." "Why stop at robbing? Kill the manager!" "You failure, you're gonna get caught for sure."
Fuck. I couldn't focus—I was getting dizzy, my vision was getting all fucked up and they were loud as hell. One tried to taunt me. Vexed, I threw a fist, breaking a glass.
The owners stayed upstairs, so they heard the glass break.
Shit. I can't believe it. I was having a 'moment' and I really didn't want them to catch me. Not only would they call me a thief, but they'd tell the police I'm crazy too.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
Just as I heard the owners move about upstairs, Justin slipped in through the back.
"Let's go," he carries me on his back and takes my backpack, bolting out. We weren't caught, all thanks to Justin.
When I was better (and in my right senses), I was lying on the ground. Justin sat on the ground, leaning against a wall, sweat running down his face and body, sticking his compression shirt to his skin even more. He notices that I'm awake and sighs heavily. "I really have to stop letting you do these damn jobs."
"No. I like doing them. I—," he cuts me as I talk. He's pissed, but his voice is as calm as ever.
"Kiera, I can't risk prison. I love you, but not even for you. We nearly got caught… and I've NEVER been caught." He realised his voicer was too high. He stands up and hugs me, burying my face in his chest muscles.
"You know I love you K. I adore you. And your health means more to me than anything on this planet." He cups my face in his big hands. I look away for a second, embarrassed to show my flushed cheeks. He noticed though, and he smiled weakly while brushing hair off my face. His thumb rubbed my cheek, cleaning the single tear that fell.
"K," he said softly, his mouth close to my ear. His husky voice sent a chill down my spine. He knows how I feel about him. He complains that he's too old for me. But when he took me in, he was old enough to be an older brother than a dad. At 30, he was a matured adult that I just couldn't help but fall for. I was obsessed with Justin, but I knew that we'd never be together. Not after his fiancée, Rose, died. He said he'd never love again.
He kissed my forehead. "I injected the emergency drugs in, so take a walk and come home when you're better," he said, walking away. "Be safe for me."
I blush as he walks away waving. I sigh heavily. I kicked a stone and screamed. What the actual fuck is this annoying ass disease?! I'll never forget the day Justin's doctor diagnosed me.
"It's called schizophrenia—aa mental condition. Not unheard of, but be careful. The voices are loud, but you'll get used to them as you get older."
I was a dumbass for believing her. If anything, its worst and it drives me insane! I'm tired of them calling out my name and giving me shit advice. Always yelling and making noise.
I stopped and sat down, staring into space. My chest hurt and my head was killing me. Just then, I hear loud panting. I turn to lock eyes with dark brown eyes. His curly blonde hair was all over the place, some stuck to his face because of the sweat.
"K-Kiera?"
I recognised him now—it was that rich kid I tried to rob.