Nefarious

2.

Natasha's P.O.V.

I almost died. I almost fell to my death.

Okay, yeah that might be a bit of an exaggeration but I felt like I was dying.  Why don't you try rolling down a fucking rocky road and tell me you found it fun. I stood in front of the gates of our hideout, covered in dirt, with scratches on my face. When I tell you, I was pissed;

I was fucking pissed.

Actually, pissed doesn't even cover it.

In conclusion, I was mad.

Two guards opened the gate for me, observing my face for a while and then shooting a look back at each other, knowing shit was about to go down. I walked on the gravel path, all the way up to the doors to our "lair" as one would call it. I angry walked down the hall, mumbling curses and planning murders under my breath. Here are two things you should know about me:

1) I have anger issues.

2) I kill people that make me angry.

I walked some more to face another door in front of me which opened up to the common room. My first initial thought was —— why the fuck are there so many doors in this place?  Which soon enough, was overcome by pure rage. I opened the doors, once again with full force, just to see my father, Apollo Ashford, sitting on his chair, reading a newspaper with the two buffoons on the each side.

"Are you fucking crazy? Did you know I could have fucking rolled all the way down to my own death? Are you trying to kill me?" I throw a bunch of questions at the man standing on the left of my father.

"No, Nat, we're not trying to kill you, we were just having fun" he says to her. His icy blue locked with her brown ones and a smile spread across his face as he ran his hands through his bleached blonde hair. 

 "Fun? FUN? NIALL, I WILL STRANGLE YOU" I shout back at him, earning a small laugh. 

That's Niall Horan. My childhood best friend. He's the prankster, the jokester and probably the biggest idiot ever, but I love him. Niall has been with me through thick and thin. He's been there for my first birthday when I accidentally sat on my cake, he's been there when I turned 13 and my dad acted like I was leaving home, he's also been there when my mom died. 

He's my number one supporter, my best friend and my whole world. Right now though, I wanted to punch him in the face.

"You're so annoying" I reply, now laughing myself too. 

"You gotta admit Nat, it was funny. The way you were rolling down the hill and screaming." He continues. 

"yeah, yeah, whatever." I answer dismissing the thought of admitting it was actually funny. I turn my attention to my dad, who was now looking at me in admiration, instead of his newspaper.

My dad. According to the media and police, the leader of the murderous gang "The Lucifer's Syndicate". To me though, he was my dad. My biggest fan. He's the one who taught me how to hold a gun, to aim, and to shoot people right in the middle of their eyes. Obviously, we didn't have the ideal father-daughter relationship, but to me, it's everything.

"Hi dad" I say as I walk up to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

"Hi pumpkin, how was your day?" he replies. Pumpkin. He called me pumpkin.

 At first, I found it extremely embarrassing, now, I loved it. Even though I have no idea why he calls me that, I seemed to like it now. "

Ya know, shooting people in the head. Same old, same old" I respond as he chuckles.