𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞 | machine gun kelly

21

I STAYED FEARFULLY SILENT FOR THE VAN ride, except for the soft sniffle every few seconds as my body still tried to make itself at peace with my current situation. My eyes, dry, motionless, fixed themselves on the view passing us by from the window.

No one else said anything, except Colson speaking in a low voice with Dominic at the wheel. Their discussions brief, quick, and quiet enough for me to ignore.

I had signed myself up for this somehow hadn't I? Colson had kept telling me what would happen in San Diego. I should've been prepared. I shouldn't have hung too much on hope because it had betrayed me and no other betrayal felt as painful.

But why warn me if he intended to take me by force anyway?

My thoughts drifted to my cell phone and I softly touched the inside pocket of my knee high dress. It was empty. I had dropped my phone. But it wasn't in the van. I had dropped it in the parking lot outside the venue. I couldn't be traced now, my location undecipherable unless Colson chooses to call the police and tell them himself.

Suddenly, the van abruptly pulled to a stop. Peering outside through the tinted windows, I realized we had parked in front of an abandoned building that looking like it was supposed to be under construction. The night spread over it like a veil, and it looked like a couple of brick floors joined with hasty stairs with some missing roofs and some not.

Dominic got out, and Colson followed, sliding the van door open. The moon shone right above. A thin sharp crescent that looked like a curved skin sewing needle.

Travis Barker neared the van door.

"They are waiting for us inside," Dominic spoke, hands in his pockets.

"Barker, stay in the van," Colson instructed as he rounded to the drivers seat and pulled it over to reveal a compartment. I couldn't see what was inside, but I didn't need to.

Colson pulled out two revolvers and handed one to Dominic, while he check his was loaded and tucked it in his jeans' back pocket.

"You hear a single gunshot, and you come out with Rook and your guns. Got it?"

"Yeah," Travis nodded glancing at Rook.

"What about Davina?" Rook asked, and Colson visibly flinched at the sound of my name from his mouth. As though he had been hoping if he'd just ignore me, I'd become a part of this shitty van— blend into it like I was a dirty rug on its floor.

He looked at me, light eyes appearing dark. "She stays here."

Rook scoffed. "So that if one of them tries to escape with the van they get her as some sort of a freebie? This van has no fucking locks."

One of them? Just how many people were they going to murder?

"Fine," Colson hissed, "Bring her along when you hear a gunshot. Untie her and keep her behind you. Don't give her a gun unless you have to."

An urge to scoff overtook me but I pressed it away. He believed I'll turn on them the first chance I get, and I was glad for it, because if I got such a chance, I won't waste it. 

Then Colson paused, patting his jeans as his hands went slowly slack. He looked at me, and our eyes met. A grin pierced his stoic expression.

"And you, princess," He smirked, "Stay in line." 

I turned my face away from him, not trusting myself to say anything to him or to any of the guys. Words apparently didn't matter to them, or they would've let me go when I asked them to first. 

Then Colson Baker disappeared from my periphery, Dominic hot on his heels. Travis Barker slid the door shut and we were plunged in darkness again. None of them spoke a word. Travis directed his attention to the dark revolver in his hand, tugging on the bullet refill and checking it again and again. The clicks were the only noise aside my deep breaths. Rook kept glancing at me, but I was done having him pretend to be my friend in private and ignore me in front of his other friends. I didn't spare him a glance.