Aria Anderson was only 20 and fresh out of college with a degree in choreography, Ballet, modern, jazz technique, and body conditioning. When she met Spencer Collins. A 25-year-old, theater choreographer. With a dark soul.
She thought she escaped h...
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"Wake him up." I say growing impatient.
Bill tosses a bucket of water on him. Spencer groans as he slowly awakes.
"So glad you could join us." I say as I take my sunglasses off.
"Where am I?" He asks.
I just chuckle as I place them in my pocket.
"Mike." He says looking at me.
"Don't say my name like we are friends. My name is Mr. Jackson to you."
"What?" He groans out. "Why am I tied up?" He says as he tried to release himself from the confines of his chair.
I laugh again. Bill passes me a chair. I grab it and sit backward on it.
"Why are you doing this? Why am I here Mike?"
"Karma." I simply state. "I'm your karma and the name is Mr. Jackson."
His eyes grow wide. I smirk. This is your fault.
"Can weee jussttt talkkk about iiitt.." He stutters.
"No." I say letting my deep voice escape.
"Please don't kill me." He begs.
I roll my eyes with a sigh. I lick my lips before standing up. I take my gloves off and shove them into the pocket of my jacket.
"Nah and let you win." I say as I step to the side of the chair. "I want you to keep that same energy you had towards Aria and channel it towards me."
I take my jacket off and hand it to Bill.
"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything to that girl." He says looking around. "Where am I?"
I tie my hair into a low ponytail with the hair tie around my wrist.
"I said to keep that same energy." I say sternly as I unbutton my sleeves.
"She's a compulsive liar. All she does is play games. I don't know what she told you. But, I promise it's not true."
Did he really just use the word promise. I roll up my sleeves.
"Untie him." I say.
Bill nods his head at my other two men. One holds him as the other unties him. He rubs his wrist as I stuff my hands in my pockets.
"Spencer." I say calmly as I shake my head. "I'm the one who found her in her room." I say as I move the chair to the side to stand in front of him. "Naked. Bruised. Bleeding. Unconscious. Broken."
"Where's your proof?" He says with a low smirk.
I stuff my hands back into my pants pockets. Breathe Michael. You'll get your chance to send this negative energy back at him.
