Chapter 6 -- Stay back 100 ft.

I told myself to stop staring at him but it was hard to pull my eyes away. Owen was identical to Thomas, but was it believable he was a twin? He could still be a clone...

Owen had too many bipolar moments.  He was definitely human.

"So, you're telling me that you and Thomas are brothers, and Mickey is your cousin? I thought Mickey and Thomas were brothers?" I start to ramble.

Owen begins to erase the whiteboard, "Where would that put me, then?"

"Off the family tree." I retort and he turns around sharply.

"You still think I'm a clone, don't you?" Owen laughs. Yes, actually laughs.

I stand up from my chair and pace the floor. Questions begin to run through my head nonstop. When I finally look up, Owen is calmly sitting on his bar stool. It's as if he's waiting for me to have a breakdown.

"Okay, so what happens now?" I try to put off further questions for fear of what they may entail. Owen hops off his chair and sighs as he pulls out a wad of material from a desk drawer.

The layout of the room makes no sense to me. There's a giant desk in the middle of the area, a small table and chair in the corner where Owen cut my hair, and a kitchenette on the far side of the room. There isn't a bed in sight, but I do know there is apparently a back room.

"I have to design your new suit." Owen slams the drawer shut with an angry force. I'm getting the sense that giving the make over is part of his job and he hates every minute of it.

"Owen, you don't have to worry about it-" I try to console him. He threads a needle and then proceeds to slam his fists down in a rage.

"I do have to worry about it, Della. I have to cut your hair, make your new suit, feed you meals, and take you for walks. None of it's really necessary, but for some reason I have to do it!" He screams up at the ceiling.

I'm going to go out on a limb and take a guess that he doesn't like his job.

Owen shoves the material aside and swipes a few other items off in the process. He hops up from his chair and storms into the back room, leaving a tangible awkwardness hanging over my head in the silence.

He returns seconds later from the open doorway looking more peaceful already.

"Did you take some happy pills or something?" I ask nervously.

Owen rolls his eyes, "No, I just remembered where I kept the key to your handcuffs." He holds up a silver key and my heart races at the sight of it. He's letting me go?

He folds his hand over the key, "I can't seem to hide it from you that I'm not a villain. But I do have to act like one. Believe me, I don't want you here any more than you want to be here. Since Thomas left, though, I've had to step up and convince my dad I could be just as evil as my twin, and I'm the one with powers." Owen's smirk drops.

"But I'm not a villain. Everytime I see you I feel like a monster. I was told to bring you here and act hostile towards you. I can't do it."

"Which part? The bringing me here or acting hostile? Because you seemed to have accomplished both." I remark.

Owen huffs, looking me straight in the eyes, "I didn't want to treat you like that. I was under very close examination. One wrong move and my whole plan could go out the window."

"Wait, plan? To do what?" I shake my head, trying to comprehend what he's getting at.

There's that smirk again, "To defeat The Undergrounds."

***

"Owen, for crying out loud, where are we going now?"

He stops dead in his tracks and looks both ways before he sprints across the street. I follow him after standing in place for an eternity. Did he really just run away from me?

After I've crossed the dark, desolate road, I realize I'm in a part of town I never knew existed. Grafitti plasters every inch of the brick walls. The gang symbols, the words of wisdom, the random doodles... It's completely breath taking. The sight of it encaptures me and Owen has to tug on my arm to tear me away.

"Give me your hands." He demands. I hold out my arms in front of me, and watch him pull out the key to my freedom. I plan to bolt the second the handcuffs are unlocked.

Owen slides the key in place and looks up into my eyes. It's as if he's daring me to run. I could run away and come back before he even realized I was gone. That's what he expects me to do, right? He's setting me free.

Those piercing hazel eyes penetrate through me, and it dawns on me that maybe we want the same thing. He's trusting me to help him. This gesture itself represents trust. So I can't run if I really care about my town.

Click. The handcuffs clatter against the cracked sidewalk. Owen's eyes have not shifted from my gaze yet. I guess I'm still here.

"You're not going to run?" Owen asks, baffled. His eyebrows furrow in confusion.

I sigh, not wanting to admit to my error. Here I am, and I've made my decision.

"I'll stay and help you defeat The Undergrounds."

With that, Owen smiles from ear to ear. Laughing and smiling all in one night? This boy has gone mad. How will he explain his sudden happiness to his father?

"Alright then. In that case, I'd like for you to meet someone. He's a friend from college." It's hard for me to believe he has friends, but I won't say this out loud.

Owen leads the way to an apartment building that looks a little out of place in this part of town, with it's stable structure and somewhat clean looking frame. We enter the lobby of the building and begin to climb the steps that creak under any ounce of weight. It occurs to me that I could race up the stairs now, but I don't want Owen to become upset with me. Well, any more than usual.

"So what college do you go to?" I ask quietly. It's getting late, and we don't need to bring any attention to ourselves.

"High Rock community college." He answers in a low voice. That's where Mason goes.

When we get to the third flight of steps, Owen takes a sharp turn off of the staircase and onto the designated floor. He hastens down the hall.

"So do you know Mason?" I ask, right as Owen stops at a particular wood door. He knocks a total of three times before opening his mouth to answer my question.

"Owen?" A voice comes from behind us. I turn to see a certain boy that should have a warning label across his forehead. It would read: All girls stay back 100 ft.

"Dude. Who's she?" I realize that with my new hair, Drake doesn't recognize me. Thank God. Drake pushes past us to put the key into his door and bumps into me with one of his grocery bags. His arm muscles can withstand him carrying at least 20 bags at the moment.

Owen waits to speak until the door is closed behind all three of us. Now I definitely feel trapped. Mayday, mayday! Abort mission! Abort!

"Can you give us a minute?" Owen turns to me. My eyes wander for a spot in this tiny apartment to hide, but they've already wandered to a small door in the back of the room. Maybe there's something about these extra rooms that I need to take a look into.

I expect to hear their voices carry, but I have to admit they're good at whispering. Or maybe they're not in the room anymore...

Panic rises in my chest. Did Owen abandon me? Is someone here to kill me? Is this all a trap?

Quickly, I turn myself invisible and walk into the doorway I saw them enter. I'm so glad Owen took those handcuffs off. I peek my head into the doorway and see an opening in the floor. It almost looks like a laundry chute. Though, this isn't a hotel, so that can't be right.

No matter how loud the voice in my head is, screaming at me not to jump, I find myself bracing for the impact of wherever I land.

Then I enter into a dark, never-ending drop.

A/N
I was going to make this chapter longer, but I figured I'm already behind my updating schedule and needed to wrap things up.

So who is this new character, Drake? What's going to happen to Della? And why does it take Owen so long to answer Della's questions?!? 😤

Thanks for reading!
Always, Sunny

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