Chapter 1-Meeting Wesley

I stared at my notes in front of me and they were a jumbled mess. I had no idea what any of this meant. The sad thing about school is that you learn all of this bullshit, but you rarely use it once you go out into the real world. I still hadn't declared my major, and was in my second year, despite the fact that I was 22-year-old. I had taken a break after high school, until my dead-end job as a janitor at a nursing home was getting me nowhere and making me no money.

So, now I just walked the halls aimlessly, trying to figure out what to do for the next 50 or so years. My two friends, Jessica and Amy, knew exactly what they wanted to be and were due to graduate this year. Amy had even landed a job as an online marketing executive for Yahoo. Jessica was going off to Harvard to continue studying law. I had nothing.

I twirled my pen absently as the professor went on and on about Shakespeare and love and death. It was well known fact that even though Romeo and Juliet is a tragic story, it was still pretty stupid of two teenagers to kill themselves over puppy love. I mean, today, they would've been over in 2 seconds after they screwed each other, and then Romeo would've Facebook Stalked her until they reunited at the 20 year reunion.

My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket and I pulled it out. It was text message from my mom. She was staying in Chicago for "work". Ever since her new boyfriend got her a job as a secretary for one of his friends, I barely saw her. She spent more time with that corporate bastard than me.

Then, everyone jumped as the fire alarms went off. Everyone began shuffling out of the room and I stuck with Amy, who was also in my class. We went out into the hallway until five men dressed in SWAT uniforms stopped us in our tracks.

"Get down! Get down on your knees!" one of the men told us.

"What in the world is going on here?" our professor demanded.

"It's none of your concern, old man. Everything is under control. We just need to speak to Lydia Simpson."

I froze. Me? What did I do? I was a janitor, a community college student, and raised in a broken home. I was 5'4, 135 pounds, had short, chestnut hair, and big brown eyes and a round face. I was nobody.

I stood up slowly. I didn't want anyone to get hurt since I could tell something was off about the guys. "I'm…Lydia Simpson. What do you want?"

"We need you to come with us."

"Why?"

"Because-" Before the man could finish, he collapsed to the ground dead. There was a small hole in his forehead. Everyone screamed and began taking off in the opposite direction, me included. Behind us, gunshots rang out and it made everyone run faster.

Suddenly, I tripped and was pushed to the ground. The crowd had disappeared behind the exit doors and I was alone. I could hear the sound of gunshots and I heard a body hit the ground. Footsteps began to approach the corner, and I quickly got to my feet. The water fountain next to me suddenly exploded and a stream of water burst free from it, soaking my clothes.

I wiped my damp hair from my face and backed away as a figure approached me. I felt my back hit the wall and a man with steel blue eyes stared at me. "You have no idea how long it took me to find you. Those guys gave me hell back there, but it was to be expected, I guess."

"Who are you? Who are those guys? What do you want?"

"Long story short: I'm Wesley, those were assassins, not SWAT, and what I want is what they want. You. Or what you have."

His face was awfully close and his breath on my face sent shivers up and down my body. He wasn't particularly attractive, more average-looking at best, but his eyes were a bright blue that pulled me in like a moth to a flame. I noticed the wife beater underneath his faded leather jacket was damp, and I could see his abs pulsing through them.

I managed to pull myself together and asked, "What I have?"

Wesley stepped back a bit. I let out a breath of relief. His eyes were suffocating me and his closeness was making me uncomfortable. "Yes. Listen, I'll explain on the way, but we need to go. Now!"

Wesley grabbed my hand and pulled me through the double doors. My feet nearly failed to keep up with him since he was so quick and much fit than I was. Soon, we approached a silver, raggedy Toyota Rav4, and I hesitated at the passenger door.

"Get in!" Wesley ordered.

I shook my head. "Why should I trust you? How do I know you won't kill me after you get what you want? How do I know if you're the good guy and they're not?"

"I never said I was the good guy. And neither are they. They've killed as much as I have but at least I know that I won't kill you. I can't promise that they won't. Now get in."

At that moment, the mirror on Wesley's side shattered and bullets lit up the back of the car.

I hopped inside and buckled myself in. My eyes widened as Wesley reached for a gun underneath his seat. He took the safety off, and fired at the black Mercedes behind us.

Wesley hit the gas as the back of the Mercedes hit the pavement and the driver lost control. The Mercedes hit another car and flipped over.

I looked at Wesley in horror. "What are you?"

"I'm an assassin," he replied as we speeded out of the parking lot.

AN: So please review! More to come!