My Worst Enemy

Thank you very very much to Faith and everyone else who reviewed/voted and come back each update to read.

Chapter 9.-

She had to act fast. Placing her gun on the floor, Andryse quickly turned Troy's body around from his back to take a peek at his wound. She had done her best to shoot him in a transverse way to make sure that the bullet just went through his flesh and not stay inside his body, sequentially causing less damage and mostly. not killing him. But a bullet was a bullet and no matter how it was shot, it could still do enough damage for him to bleed to death. Specially that the blood was getting out by big flows through the mid-size hole on his side.

Quickly making sure that none of his vertebrae was hit, she however left the wound facing up, therefore clearly visible to avoid any doubts and she turned his face to the ground in an effort to hide it, hoping that he will be unidentifiable. She jumped over the two other men unconscious on the floor and stood in the hallway, her ear trying to get all the hushed and carefully made steps climbing up the stairs. That was the big difference between her father's men and the angels and she silently thanked her friend for warning her about their arrivals or else, they both would have been dead.

Pumping her chest and holding a big breath in, she ran down the stairs and yelped loudly when she came face to face with Jack, her father's right hand man, and at least five men, pointing their guns in her face.

"Whoa, it's me." she yelled, her hands up, stopping at once.

"Andryse?" Jack exclaimed, looking at her suspiciously then up at the stairs where she came from. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" she put her hands down and raised her chin. "What are you doing here?"

Jack's cold beady eyes tried to get to her soul by looking in her eyes but she knew better than flinch.

"We're here to do the job you never did." he darted with a blaming tone. "Your father is not happy at all Andryse."

Andryse's lips came into a grim straight line and without any comments, climbed the stairs back up, heading to Troy's room. She bit on her jaw seeing him laying in a big puddle of blood, his wound bleeding even more and felt her heart ache, knowing that she had to play it by the seconds otherwise she was going to loose him. But it was with an unaffected voice that she talked.

"What is it that I didn't take care of again?" she groaned without looking back at Jack, but making sure she stood next to Troy's head to hide his face as much as she could with her feet.

Jack followed her footsteps and took the time to look around the room, two big frowns on his face when he saw the two other men, laying on the floor. He bobbed his head to them.

"What the fuck happened in here?"

"Don't know and don't care." Andryse shrugged, standing her ground. "Gotta say the angels helped me though. They kept him occupied well enough for me to take my shot."

"Is he dead?" his squared chin pointed at Troy.

"What do you think?" she turned her angry eyes at him, silently praying that he would not decide to suddenly check on him. "I always shoot to kill."

"Well, he wasn't even supposed to be here in the first place." Jack retorted, taking a step forward but Andryse stood before him, just as angry as he looked. She had to thread it thin.

"What the hell does that supposed to mean?"

For just an imperceptible quick second, her eyes swung over to Jean, the man who accompanied her to LAX and pushed her back in the airport so that she could get Troy's attention. He was part of Jack's group but Jack had no idea that he and she had been working together for quite some time now. They always managed to act like they hated each other so Jack never even once, suspected anything, thinking that he was just keeping a close eye on her. And she thanked God for him immediately getting the message, for remembering the American who made him apologize to her at the airport and he quickly moved forward, squatting next to Troy, touching the vein on the side of his neck.

"It means that you have some good explaining to do." Jack growled, his hand holding his gun tighter. "You lied to your father and he is not happy about it. Actually, I'd say you're in deep shit."

"I did not lie to my father." Andryse faced him completely, hiding Troy's body completely from view. "I thought he was dead until I was tipped of his whereabouts. And you know what?" she raised her hands in the air and scoffed. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Hell you don't." Jack spat at her, the hard vein on his forehead beating rapidly. "If you had done your job properly, I wouldn't be here to clean up your mess."

"I don't need my messes to be cleaned up." she shouted. "I'm a big girl, I can do it myself. I will explain everything to my father and he will understand. And besides." she took a step further, being forced to tilt her head back a little to be able to look at the man standing in front of her. "I am the one who is charge now, while daddy is taking care of his political life, which technically means that you work for me…"

"I don't work for you." Jack sneered, his fist tightening on his gun. "I am your father's right hand. You're just a stupid little girl who's playing in the big court with the giants and will soon get burned."

"Is that a threat?" Andryse asked smugly, her hands crossed on her chest. "I'm sure my father will be very happy to know that you are threatening his favorite daughter." she noticed the nervous tick on his face and knew she had hit a nerve.

Everybody knew that no one, not even his best friend, could escape her father's wrath if one of his daughters was being attacked. She decided to nip on it.

"Troy Colt was my responsibility and I owned up to it." she finished with her cold voice, scraping her gritted teeth. "It may not have been like I expected but he is dead. All of this is my mess and I am going to clean it up. Now, I suggest you get out of my face and stay the hell out of my business."

"He's dead."

Andryse's heart flipped when she heard the voice behind her but she did her best to keep her demeanor as unaffected as possible. She wanted to believe that Jean only said that to fool Jack, but she couldn't help a part of her to worry and want to grab Troy to run out to seek immediate help. She swallowed and sustained Jack's stare, hoping that the loud thumping of her heart and her moist hands, didn't give her nervousness away.

"Satisfied?" she raised a smug brow at Jack, a smirk cursing her lips but inside, she was silently praying for him to bite and leave when Jean's sharp voice groaned behind her again.

"I'll stay up here to make sure she takes care of everything."

Jack shot Jean with his eyes and his jaw tightened as his darken gaze fell back on Andryse before he stormed out the room and ran down the stairs, his men following close behind.

After she made sure their steps died out and were now all the way down, Andryse carefully checked the streets through the window to see them drive out in their cars before running back to Troy, kneeling next to him.

"How is he?" she asked frantically, her hands touching his face that started to lose some of its color.

"Not good. His pulse is slow." Jean answered in his native language, with worry lacing his voice. "We need to stop the bleeding or get him to a hospital ASAP."

"Shit." Andryse cussed, going on full panic mode. "Get me the covers from the bed." she ordered, trying to put her hands on the wound to stop the bleeding. "And see if you can find clean towels here somewhere. Hurry. Come on Troy, don't die on me." she shouted feverishly to the man laying unconscious in her hands and she didn't stop exhorting him to stay alive until Jean came back with what she needed.

Half a second later, the white drape tore in two, they wrapped the bleeding's man body tightly, after she secured a white clean towel on the wound to keep the pressure and she took a minute to breath in by small breath intakes, thinking about what to do next.

"Andryse." Jean snapped her out of her thoughts. "We need to get him to a hospital."

"No." she refuted. "Too dangerous. They will ask too many questions and my father will eventually retrace our steps."

"I told you this was a very bad idea not to kill him." Jean cussed and Andryse looked at warily.

"And he will not die on my watch. Help me carry him."

Delicately, Jean picked Troy up from the floor and with a grunt, threw him on his large shoulders then bobbed his head to the other men, still unconscious on the floor. "What about them?"

"That's Max's mess." she replied absentmindedly, wiping her bloody hands on her jeans. "Let him clean it up."

They both carefully headed downstairs, her in front and after making sure that no one suspicious was lurking, they ran to the red Toyota, where the two men looked at them with incomprehension.

"Hey Marc, thanks for texting and warning me." she said with a trembling voice. "I need your car." she added without waiting for an answer. "Take mine."

She handed him the keys and a few minutes later, she was driving hurriedly through the darkened streets, Jean on the seat next to Troy in the back, applying pressure on the wound to keep the bleeding to its minimal.

"Where are you taking him?" Jean grunted.

"I can't bring him to the hospital but I'll bring the hospital to him."

"What?" Jean snapped at her. "Are you crazy? You can't bring him there, it's too dangerous."

"I have no other choice." Andryse clamored. "He needs serious medial attention and I can't give him that here." She stopped to take a deep breath and accelerated to burn a stop sign, leaving loud shouts and angry honking behind her. "He'll be safe there until I can find a safer place for him."

"It's too far Andryse. He'll never make it."

"He will." she nodded, driving at maximum speed on the tiny paved road, heading to the highway. "He has to."

Her eyes went up to the mirror and she cringed when she saw Troy's blood getting through the towel and wetting the drape around his waist. She automatically drove even faster, crossing every single car ahead of her.

"Come on Colt. Stay with me." she whispered as a prayer, her eyes going back to the mirror to look at him. "Don't you dare die on me."

She stayed quiet the rest of the way, focusing on driving like a maniac, Jean holding on firmly to the door's handle not to go through the window at her dangerous speed. Burning as many red lights and stop signs she could, greatly helped by the late hour making the streets deserted, she made the one-hour drive in a matter of minutes. After being recognized by the security guards, she finally reached her destination, but still kept her foot firmly pressed on the gas, stopping only at one hair of her target. Leaving Troy for Jean to carry again, she ran up to the door of a small house made of wood, hidden behind a dense little forest in the locality of Furcy and banged on the door with all her strength. The house was completely dark so she guessed the occupants might already be asleep so she went on the side, deciding to knock on the windows. Desperate situations called for desperate measures. A faint light shone and she ran back to the front door, Jean standing up, Troy still thrown over his shoulders.

"What the… Andryse?" A young man with blond hair and sleepy blue eyes, dressed in a pajama ensemble with red fire trucks, winked many times as if to make sure that he was seeing clearly.

"I need your help Ryan." Andryse said with urgency in her voice, pushing him in. He took a step back and watched with even more confused eyes Jean who rushed to lay Troy on a small sofa, in the living room. "Hey." Andryse called him and he looked at her again, incomprehension written all over his face.

"This is a good friend of mine." She continued impatiently. "He's been shot. I want to you to help him please."

"What's going on here?" She turned her eyes on a beautiful brunette, the same height as her but lacking the svelte body trained for combat Andryse had, who was walking up to them, frowns all over her face. "Who is that?"

"Baby, why don't you go back to bed?" Ryan rushed to say with an amicable voice. "It's just Andryse and a friend."

"So I see." She asked, looking at Andryse with scorn. "What does she want?"

Andryse closed her eyes and urged herself to calm down. She had bigger worries right now than to pay attention to her friend's wife.

"Ryan." She called the blond man again. "He's going to die if you don't help him. Right now."

Ryan's lips came together as one, seeing her scared stare and he walked with a quick step before squatting down near Troy to look at his wound.

"What?" The woman shouted with an angry tone. "Don't tell me you're going to help her?"

"It looks like he's lost a lot of blood." Ryan said quietly without answering his wife. "How long ago has he been shot?"

"Hum… one hour maybe." Andryse answered, her fingers nervously tugging at her black top.

"At first look, it seems like the bullet didn't stay in. I will have to double check but that's a good thing. And we need to stop the hemorrhage right now." Ryan said before ordering around loudly. "Adeline, get me my bag in the room, Andryse…"

"Oh no, I am not lifting one finger to help her." Adeline answered, both her hands on her waist, defying her husband.

Andryse opened her mouth to answer but retracted as Ryan's voice became colder when he faced his wife.

"This man is bleeding to death here, Adie. I'm a doctor. It's my job to save his life. Now do as I say, unless you want to have a man's death on your conscience."

They both defied each other for a minute before she turned on her heels and headed to their bedroom and Ryan sighed before bobbing his head to Andryse.

"Go in the kitchen and get some hot water on the stove. You…" he signaled Jean who had kept quiet, standing in a corner. "Help me unwrap that drape around him."

When Andryse came back with the hot water, the whole sofa was already smeared with Troy's blood although Ryan was doing his best to keep it from getting out. She stepped back and watched him deep everything he needed in the hot water or to clean up the area he needed, before picking up a needle and a thread and, helped by Jean who held Troy upper body the way Ryan needed it, he sew the wound to close it as much as he could with the lack of materials that he had.

Andryse circled her body with her arms, her foot nervously tapping on the floor, silently praying that Troy could stop bleeding and wouldn't catch an infection of some sort. But her thoughts were cut short as a malicious little voice made its way through her mind, making her blood boil in her veins.

"Another one of your father's doing?"

Andryse opened her eyes to see Adeline looking at her with disgust but she ignored her, trying to forget all the reasons why they hated each other so much that were popping in her head. Or more exactly, why Adeline hated her so much.

"When are you going to stop making your life a living hell for that bastard?" Adeline spat again. "Don't you think it's time you start enjoying your life instead of trying to lose it?"

"Then who's going to keep you and your dear husband safe?" Andryse retorted, her eyes still turned on the man in the living room. "Are you willing to lose him?" she added quietly before finally looking back at the brunette standing next to her. Their brown eyes connected and Adeline smirked, seeing her reflection in hers.

"Can you afford for my father to know that you're both alive?" she asked again. "Can you, Sis?"

Andryse shivered as she saw the glare of pure hatred in her sister's eyes and she felt her heart break, just like each time she was faced with the gate their past had erected between them. They never grew up together, were never close and somehow, found out that they shared the same blood in the most unusual way. But when Andryse had tried to reach out to her to make amends for her father's mistakes, hate and contempt was all she received in return.

She had no idea why it always hurt her so much. She had three other legitimate sisters who loved her dearly, she surely didn't need this one, born out of her father's devilish work. But deep inside, she knew that it was specifically because of that reason that Adeline meant so much to her. She didn't deserve to be born and grow up in such terrible conditions when she and her sisters, knew a blessed and beautiful life. But she refused to let her know that, refused to show her sister that she cared more than she was letting on.

"There you go." Her head quickly turned away to look at Ryan who was standing up, removing two bloody latex gloves from his hands and bobbing his head to Troy. "He stopped bleeding. He'll live..." He walked up to Andryse and sighed. "If you don't move him all around town and cause him to bleed again."

"What?" Adeline shouted. "He is not staying here."

Andryse bit her tongue and made a fist, barely containing herself.

"I'm sorry honey." Ryan looked at his wife and sighed again. "But he has to stay here until I'm sure he's completely stable and safe to move." Adeline opened her mouth to protest again but he shut her up with a tired hand raised in the air. "His life depends on me now, Adie. I am not going to let him die." He turned to Andryse and nodded comfortingly. "I'm sure you have to go back. I'll take care of him."

"Thank you." Andryse whispered, pressing affectingly on his arm before walking up to Troy, leaving the couple arguing behind her.

She felt a strange feeling invade her heart as she watched him, laying on his back, his breath slow and regular, still lost in a deep sleep. The wound was now held together by a big white gauze and a bandage going around his body and she felt somewhat relieved not to see blood all over it like earlier. Ryan had managed to enter a catheter in his right arm and a IV was suspended on top of his head by a made up pole which in fact, was a long lamp post and was going by big flow into his veins to help compensate for the lost of blood.

She trusted Ryan. He was Shelley's big brother therefore Elisabeth's too but she trusted him just as much she trusted Shelly. She knew that Troy was in good hands. But somehow, her chest was closing up anyway, her throat dry and her heart going crazy, finding it very hard for her to watch him being so vulnerable. She kneed in front of the sofa and ran a hand on his cheek, that was still very pale.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, hoping that he could hear. "I hope one day you'll understand why I had to do that." She swallowed the big lump in her throat before taking in a deep breath. "I have to go calm my father down but I will be back. You're safe here just… be strong and wait for me."

She kissed him gently on the cheek. When she got up, all the emotions were gone and she was in control again. She exchanged a mutual understanding look with Ryan, ignored her sister and walked back to the car, Jean close behind her. She exhaled deeply, both hands on the wheel and her eyes pierced the night enveloping her, not needing any light to know exactly, what was surrounding her.

"What's next?" Jean asked and her jaw danced.

"Next, we need to find a dead body just like Troy Colt's." she answered unemotionally, backing up the car. "Is David still working at the morgue?"

~.~ ~.~ ~.~ ~.~

The first thing he realized, was that he couldn't open his eyes. His eyelids felt like they were made of plead and he just couldn't find the strength required to do such a difficult task. So he just let go and didn't even realize that he had fallen asleep. Then, her voice. Shouting at first, ordering, urgent then it became soft almost like a prayer to finally begging. He couldn't clearly understand the words but he felt the comfort it brought him. There was something in her intonation that made him feel good, made him want to stay quiet to spend a lifetime listening to it but at the same time, was urging him to fight, to keep his mind in alert and not leave her.

But he still didn't open his eyes. It didn't need to. Her sweet lullaby was all he needed and he never even tried to open his eyes and break the charm. And then it was gone. She was gone and he felt alone, like she had abandoned him and that's when he felt the need to open his eyes to look for her. He needed her back.

There wasn't much light but at the same time, Troy could tell that it wasn't entirely night either. It was evidently a bedroom but what first caught his attention, was the table placed in front of him on top of which, were placed what seemed to be medical equipment. He couldn't recognize the first thing about where he was. He tried to move and gasped for air, under an unbearable pain at his left side. Groaning and gritting his teeth not to scream, he raised his head to see what was causing so much pain. That's when he saw the ivy attached on his right arm and big, white strips of bandages going all around his naked chest and lower abdomen. What the…?

Completely awaken now, he looked all around the room and apart from the table in front of him, it was pretty empty, except for the big bed he was laying in, a rocker chair that obviously had known better days and a small TV with bunny ears at the corner, right under an opened window. He tried to sit up but this time, the pain was too much to bear and he screamed, feeling his body being tore in two. And then he remembered. She shot him. The little bitch shot him. He couldn't really tell exactly where he had been shot from the pain freezing up all his body, but he specifically remembered the unforgettable sting of the bullet on his left side, near his hip. Right after he hit her on the head and that was that.

But where was he? From the IV and the bandages, he could tell that he had been taken care of and the vague memory of her voice, ordering him to stay alive still lingered in his mind. Then out of nowhere, he began to doubt himself. Was it really her who shot him? Would she shoot him then bring him here to be cared for? How long has he been out for? He had to get out, he had to move. He tried to swing his feet off the side of the bed, but they felt very heavy and he screamed again when he realized that none of his muscles wanted to obey him.

But this time, his shouts didn't go unnoticed as the only apparent door of the room swung open and he saw a man with blond hair ran up to him and he immediately noticed the syringe in his right hand.

"Oh! you're awake. Good." the man said with a huge smile, standing next to the stick holding up the ivy.

"Who are you? Where am I?" even his trembling voice hurt him very bad and came out just as a raspy whisper.

"My name is Ryan Evans." the man answered affably. "I am a doctor and Andryse asked me to take care of you."

"Andryse… she..." he tried to sit up again but Ryan was already on top of him, pushing him down.

"Stay down." he ordered firmly. "You don't want to open your wound and start bleeding again."

"She shot me." Troy breathed in, feeling his head getting heavier after his efforts to move.

"Really?" Ryan questioned, puzzled. Andryse had just brought him here and she never cared to say how he had been shot in the first place. Not did he care to ask anyway. He didn't even know his name. "Are you sure?"

Troy's painful gaze fell upon the man standing next to him. "Yeah." He groaned, but closed his eyes as his head spun around. "No one else was there, it must have been her."

"Huh." Ryan thought loudly before shrugging. "But let's not talk about this, shall we?" he quickly said, watching Troy with a concerned eye and seeing his discomfort. "You have lost a lot of blood and you need to stay in bed and rest to regain your strength."

"Where am I?" Troy groaned again, this time not caring to open his eyes again.

Ryan scratched his head and balanced on both his feet. "This is a safe place don't worry." He simply answered. "I live here with my wife, Adeline. She's getting some food ready for you right now. What are you doing?" he exclaimed, pushing Troy back down as he tried to stand up again. "You need to stay down or you're gonna open your wound. Now see?"

Troy frowned when he saw a little taint of blood pierce through the white bandages across his body and didn't resist when Ryan's strong hold, pinned him down on the bed again. "I need to go." He however mumbled, with one eye open. "What is this?"

"Calm down." Ryan answered quietly, wiping the head of the catheter with an alcohol cloth before inserting the syringe he was still holding. "I need to change your bandages and check on your wound, now that you've started bleeding again. This is just a shot of Morphine to sedate you so you don't feel the pain."

Troy followed the drug running through the IV to his veins with his eyes and he found one last surge of strength to fight again.

"No I don't want to stay here, I have to… ahh!" his words died out as he felt the instant effects of the strong drug going in his system and his mind slipping away. "I have to find Andr… she might be in dang…"