Chapter 3

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Pic Of Gemma :)

"How long has it been since you last ate?" I asked, slowly. Wyatt and I sat in the hospital cafeteria. I had fixed him up something to eat because he needed food with the medicine I gave him. However when I gave him food, I didn't expect him to dive into it like a cheetah who just caught its prey.

Wyatt shrugged. "A few days or so." For some reason, I didn't believe him. I knew it had been longer. I could just tell. I raised my eyebrows and looked him square in the eyes. He was no one to me, so it shouldn't matter. Nevertheless, he was a patient and I needed to aid to him.

"Okay, fine. It's been about a week and a half." He broke and raised his hands in the air. "Happy now?"

I nodded and smirked. "Yes, I am. Now do you want to tell me why? Oh and how do you know my name? I never told you." I added, what can I say? Curiosity got the best of me.

A smirk played at Wyatt's lips. "I can't tell you and hmm? I guess that'll remain a mystery won't it now?"

I crossed my arms, annoyed. It's my name. I have a right to know. Suddenly, Wyatt stopped munching on his sandwich and looked out the window. He looked back at me and grimaced. "Under the table, now!" He spoke harshly and before I knew it, my back was pinned to the ground and Wyatt was on top of me. "Not a word," He whispered huskily into my ear.

Oh I won't make a sound, but I can't say the same for my heart. It was beating so fast and loudly, I'm pretty sure people in China heard. After a few moments of silence, I heard a gunshot and some glass shatter. I couldn't tell whether it was from the hospital building or another building nearby, but I kept my curiosity to myself. "Shit!" Wyatt cursed loudly. "Someone must have tipped the gang!" Suddenly, I was being pulled off the ground and pushed into another closet. "You stay here, you hear me? I have to go and don't tell anybody I was here. It won't end good. Thanks for the help, pumpkin." Wyatt ended his spiel and pressed his lips softly to my cheek. I closed my eyes for a second to calm my breathing, but when I opened them Wyatt was gone.

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I walked into my apartment and locked the door. My deep blue couch mocked me because I was so tired and I wanted nothing more than to collapse on my bed. I dragged my limp body into my bedroom and glanced at the clock as I stepped into my bathroom. It was already 4:30am and I needed sleep. My eyes drooped as I stripped off my clothes and washed my face. The shower can wait until I wake up.

Truth be told, I was using my fatigue as an excuse to forget about tonight. I couldn't quite get everything through the hard shell, I called a head. What was up with Wyatt and how did he know me from before? It's not like we interacted, but most of all the thought that haunted me was his safety. What gang? how did he get his wounds? So many questions, but no Wyatt to answer them. I looked in the mirror to meet my horrid reflection. I looked like the grudge. My hair was wild and my eye liner had smudged under my eyes. Shaking my head, I pulled on my hello kitty pajama pants and a plain black tee. It was high time I got some sleep.

I woke up to a knocking on my door. "Ugh!" I groaned. I looked over to my clock and the bright neon green shone '8:30am' I sighed at the disturbance and swung my legs over my queen sized bed. My room was littered with clothes and I could barely see the floor. Regardless, I stood up and trudged to the front door. Not bothering to ask who it was, I swung open the door. Who knew that opening that door would end in regret? 

"Good morning, darling" My mother spoke in a squeaky voice. My eyes widened at her as she side stepped me. Currently, the woman who gave birth to me supported a skimpy crop top and maxi skirt with wedges. If you didn't see us side by side, there was no way she looked like a mother, or more specifically my mother.

I groaned in response. Mom whirled around, swinging her blonde curls, and looked at me with disgust, "Is that any way to treat the woman who gave birth to you?"

"If you can treat me like animal waste, then I can do the same to you." I muttered and slammed the door shut.

Mom huffed and crossed her arms, "The nerve!"

"Yeah, yeah." I dragged my feet along the hardwood floor and went back into my room.

"Ooouuu! Do you have a man over?" My mom squealed. I instantly stopped half way through my bedroom door and turned on my heel.

"No I don't, now could you please tell me what your little heart desires and get out of my hair?" I spoke, bluntly. I was never this cold, mean or confident. Only with my mother, she set of emotions that I forgot I ever had.

"I just wanted a little bit of money for a shopping spree." She whined. I narrowed my eyes at her, but kept the several insults I wanted to say inside me and spoke.

"There's $50 on the kitchen counter." I motioned.

Mom beamed and walked into the tiny kitchen. "This won't be enough, but it'll do." She sighed.

Anger boiled inside me, but I kept it hidden. "I don't care. Now if you would please leave?" I gestured towards the door and even walked over to it and opened it.

"Thank you, honey." Mom was almost out of the door, when she stopped and turned for one last insult. "Oh, and I suggest you go for a run. No daughter of mine will have thunder thighs." And with that, she was out the door leaving me speechless and angry.

(EDITED)

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