I had no intention of updating again today. But the comments-as funny as they were to me-made me feel slightly bad.

Slightly.

So here you go!

Enjoy!

Thirteen's POV

I feel like I can't breathe.

I feel like I'm gasping for a breath I can't get in.

It's different this time. I've lost people many times before but...he shouldn't have done it. I'd give anything for him to come back...

Just so I could kill him myself.

"You're an idiot," I mumble into his shirt. I don't even feel my own injuries. "Open your eyes please," I beg, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

"Please."

I feel a hand on my shoulder I turn to look at Devin. He says nothing but he doesn't remove his hand. His face is solemn, and he gives me the one look I hate more than anything.

Pity.

"What happened?" He asks softly as if talking to a child. I can barely see through the tears I refuse to let fall. I open my mouth but no words come out. I try again.

"He tried to get us all into the office," I reply, my voice surprisingly calm but quiet. "He didn't make it in," I whisper, looking back at him, his eyes closed. "He kicked the door shut before Lydia finished him off."

I bury my face back into his shirt. I don't want any of them to see me cry.

My hands are covered in blood by now, some of it's mine, but most of it's his. It stays quiet as nobody dares to say anything to me, as they take it all in.

My hands slide over the wounds on his chest, getting coated with his blood even more. It's a reminder, it's proof.

Suddenly my hand stops and I lift my head up from his chest. I smear his blood between my fingers. It's sticky and thick...but there's something else.

I rub it in between my fingers some more and I realize what it is about it that isn't right.

Shock is the first thing that I feel, then relief, and then...

The anger flowing through my body is enough to make my blood boil and make me forget about my pain entirely. I raise my hand up and with as much force as I can muster...

I slap him. Hard.

The skin on skin contact echoes through the quiet room followed closely by gasps as if they can't believe that I just slapped a dead man.

Oh, he's dead alright.

The last thing that can be heard echoing through the room is laughter...his laughter.

He is so beyond dead.

He laughs like it's the funniest thing in the world for him to give me a heart attack, I slam the fist of my good arm down on his chest repeatedly.

"You stupid, idiotic, ass!" I growl and he continues laughing. "You are so dead you son of-"

He restrains my arm before I can do any further damage to myself or him.

He lifts his head up to look at Henri. "Why aren't you slapping the back of her head? Do you hear the mouth she has on her?"

Henri shrugs but a smile threatens to split across his face. "She's injured."

"That's no excuse!" Ryder protests and I slap him again with my bad arm. I immediately regret it as pain shoots throughout my body. I hiss and tuck my arm back to my side.

Ryder snickers. "Karma."

I hold my hand out behind me after freeing my wrist from Ryder's grasp.

"Somebody give me a gun."

Ryder pales for just a second before covering it up with narrowed eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would."

"How?" I turn to look at Megan who's staring at Ryder like he's a ghost. He's about to be.

Ryder sits up, putting an arm around me to steady me before lifting his shirt up to reveal the insanely thin body armor underneath. It's thin but it's as effective as a bulletproof vest. Better even.

"But there's blood and he wasn't breathing," Megan says, still in shock. Ryder sticks his hand up his shirt and pulls out a now almost empty and large packet of fake blood. There are several bullet holes in the bag.

"Ryder was a swimmer in high school. He can hold his breath for minutes at a time." I hiss before turning back to him. "Raiding my weapons room again?" He laughs again. I narrow my eyes into a death glare and he looks away from me, trying to hide his smile. His body shakes as he keeps his laughter contained. "I'm going to kill you."

"I know."

"No, you don't."

"I'm pretty sure I do."

"I'm serious."

"Good thing you can't chase after me then." He pokes at my leg and I let out another hiss of pain. "Come on," he gets to his feet and holds his hand out to me. "Let's get you fixed up."

"I hate you."

"You can hate me when you're better."

***

"What part of bed rest did you clearly not understand?" Ryder questions me the next morning.

I help myself down the stairs, trying my hardest not to put any pressure on my leg but at the same time holding my breath so my ribs don't hurt any more than they already do. Good thing the pain medication has dulled it down. Though everything still hurts like hell.

"The part about the bed, and then the part about the rest," I reply and he walks up the stairs and meets me halfway with a sigh.

He allows me to lean on him to get down. My phone buzzes in my pocket again. I struggle to breathe by the time we make it all the way down the stairs.

"Need a minute?" Ryder asks, and it's only now that I realize he's shirtless...again.

"What is with you and no shirts?" I question. His chest sports five large bruises where the bullets had hit the armor but not pierced it.

"There was blood on mine."

"As of yesterday. You have more shirts."

He feigns shock. "I do?" I roll my eyes but smile at him none the less. "You should really be using that crutch Henri gave you."

I suppress a shudder and scowl at him instead. "I'm already wearing the sling again, I'm not using the crutch." My phone beeps again, letting me know that I've missed another one of his calls.

Ryder looks at me curiously, as if sensing I want to be alone. He holds up his hands in surrender before pointing to the kitchen and disappearing from sight. I pull my phone out of my pocket.

I've got four texts and one missed call. I read the texts first.

You're late.

Are you still coming?

Did something happen?

Call me when you get this Daggers. I have to know you're ok.

I call him back and he answers the moment the phone begins to start ringing. He doesn't say anything for what feels like forever.

"I thought for sure something happened." He starts, relief clear in his voice. "Why didn't you call to tell me you weren't going to come to dinner last night?"

"I was planning on going, but something did happen," I answer honestly, pain slipping into my voice as I accidentally bump against the banister I'm leaning on.

"What happened?" His voice is dangerously low, dangerously quiet. With him, silent anger is the worst because it means he's revving up for an explosion.

"Lydia got in."

Silence. That's what I'm greeted with. Pure silence.

"How badly are you hurt?" He finally asks.

I suck in a shaky breath. "It could be worse."

"That means it's bad."

"Look I don't have time to have this conversation with you right now."

"Daggers," His voice is softer now, pleading. There's another sound on his end of the line. "Someone's coming, I gotta go. We'll talk about this later." He hangs up immediately afterward and I shove my phone back into my pocket.

I make my way slowly into the kitchen.

"GOOD MORNING!"

I groan and clutch my head, it feels like I'm being stabbed by millions of tiny needles. I glare at Devin who smiles widely. Ryder whacks him across the back of his head.

"Be nice."

Devin openly gapes at him. "Oh yeah cause what you did yesterday shows exactly how nice you are."

Ryder opens his mouth to retort but Jason steps in first.

"How are you feeling?" He asks and I shrug and pull myself gently up into one of the chairs.

"Like I got hit by a semi, dragged by a train for a couple hundred miles and then trampled on by elephants," I grumble. "Oh yeah, and like I've got a knife stabbing me in my rib cage." Ryder places a cup of tea in front of me. "Thanks," I mutter.

"Why did Vendetta leave?" Cody asks and I turn to Ryder who gives me a sheepish look.

"You told them?"

"I didn't really have another choice."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Can either one of you answer the question?" Jason asks, his tone impatient.

I shake my head. "I don't know. I was trapped in the office, and Ryder was 'dead'."

"So they just left?" Jason presses, confusion on his face. "Without getting what they wanted?"

"No."

I spin in my chair and immediately regret it as soon as pain shoots through my body. A new voice speaks up. The voice of a person who was definitely not in my house before. It shouldn't surprise me. If anyone can get into a house that's completely reliant on technology, it'd be her.

"Who are you?" Ryder questions, his hand resting on the gun in his waistband. Nicky eyes him up and down.

"Easy there trigger happy smurf." She says simply, her eyes focused on the black and blue bruises on his chest. I hide my smile in my teacup.

Ryder glares at her, but his hand comes off his gun thankfully.

"Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter?" She shoots back at him I can't help but let a soft laugh. If anyone could put Ryder in his place, it'd be Nicky.

She walks around him and takes a seat next to me. It's only then that I realize she's helped herself to my closet. She's wearing a loose black top tucked into a black skirt covered in daisies, she got her same thick black rimmed glasses on and a pair of my converse.

"Stealing my shoes now? Between you and Ryder I'm not going to have anything left."

She crinkles her nose in disgust. "Ryder?" I point to him so she knows which one he is...though she's smart enough to figure it out by herself. She takes a long time studying him.

"Take a picture it'll last longer," Ryder grumbles.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure your ugliness will last forever. Much longer than any picture I could take."

He glares at her and she shoots her own glare back.

"You were saying, Nicky?" I ask, interrupting their little glaring match.

"I made the dagger." She says with a shrug. "I saw you were in trouble, I brought a replica...but it's not the same as yours. I gave it to them and they left."

"And you've just been creeping around the house ever since?"

I ignore Ryder's comment. "Thanks, Nicky." I don't bother asking how she saw, I figure she hacked the security cameras, but that doesn't bother me.

"What do you mean you saw?" Ryder questions, his tone accusing.

"I'm psychic."

"You're psycho."

"Better than ugly. No princess' kiss is going to turn you into a handsome prince."

It takes a moment for Ryder to process what she said, but I see the exact moment he does. Suddenly an idea comes to mind.

Nicky would not only be here just to help but also cause she needs some help herself...and Ryder owes me so many favors.

"Ryder," I call to him, interrupting their bickering.

"Yes."

"Do you remember that saying? About payback?" I ask calmly as if I'm genuinely trying to recall.

"You mean that payback's a bi-"

"Mr. Stevenson, this is your last warning."

I smile at Ryder, but it's not friendly, it's mischievous...evil. His eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Best keep that in mind," I say simply, going back to my tea. He groans.

"What are you going to do?"

I smile wickedly back at him. "I have a lot of favors to cash in with you...and it's about time I put them to good use, don't you think?"

See I didn't kill him off. You people jump to too many conclusions. This is Ryder we're talking about here.

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