𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦 | 𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐮

CHAPTER SIX: WALKS AND ALL

Would my younger self even believed I would be here in a car with Thomas Holland? No. She would have thought I was on a suicide mission. She would have thought I was insane for being even within a mile radius to Tom, someone who's done trouble.

The car ride has been nothing but uncomfortable silence. Well for me at least. The music playing on the radio was the only thing filling the silence between us. Here and there Tom would sneak quick glances into my direction and it'll only be received by me looking out the window to avoid his gaze.

I had no possible idea where Tom was taking me nor had the idea why I was even with him in the first place. It's bad enough he's possessing my mind, whether it's when I'm awake or sleeping, he's always there. Now this was just the cherry on top of everything.

This is what I've figured out about Tom. He's very picky in how he wants things laid out. For example he doesn't let anyone touch the controls of his car, even when I tried to adjust the air vent on my side since the air was blowing too cold for me. Another thing I've noticed is he doesn't care about the things he does. Whether it be running the red lights or giving me his honest thought.

"You should smile more." he says, looking out to the road ahead of us instead of at me.

My eyebrow cocks, shifting both my body and gaze towards him, "I beg your pardon?"

    The corners of his lips tug upward before he speaks again, "You don't smile." he rewords his sentence as if it were to be nicer, "I miss it."

    I cross my arms against my chest, leaning back against my seat, "I do. I just don't have a reason to at the moment."

   "Why's that?" he asks, gazing at my side profile for a bit until his attention goes to the road again, "Is it me? Do I scare you?"

    The question makes my throat bone dry and I'm lost on what to say. He isn't wrong, though I'm not going to tell him the truth. With only knowing the surface of who Tom is, who knows if he'll use my fear as an advantage.

    He clears his throat, bringing me out of my thoughts, "I'll take that as a yes, just judging off by how long it's taking you to answer." he chuckles lowly.

    I roll my eyes and stare out the window, "Where are you even taking me? Taking time out of your probably busy day to pull me out of work and take me somewhere I don't know to what? Kill me?" I say too honestly.

The minute the truth slips out I'm wishing to bring the words back into my mouth. My heart clashes against my chest, waiting for some form of reaction. I know he's going to be pleased knowing I'm just as terrified as the next person.

"You think I'm gonna kill ya?"

I can't tell whether he's mocking me or being completely serious. All I could do was nod in agreement and fidget with the bracelet on my wrist to hopefully hide the fear that's inevitable on my face.

A hysterical laugh bursts out of him and my eyes shoot up to look at him as if he gone crazy, "You think I'm going to kill you? Why would I even do that?" Tom's laughter mixes in with his words and I hate how he's finding all this funny.

     "Uhm I don't know maybe because you kill people for a living with my brother. Call me stupid, but don't you work for London's deadliest gang?" I throw my hand up in front of me.

     Scratching his jaw, his expression falls flat, "You got one thing correct. I do work for London's deadliest gang. But I won't kill you because I do it for a living. There has to be reason to— I don't do it for fun." another laugh escapes and there's so much light in his eyes it's scary he's finding this amusing, "But I wouldn't want to kill you. You're something."