Faceless [H.S]

Soundproof. 03

CHAPTER THREE

The man's voice made me flinch and recoil, pulling my hand back instantly. That tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. His voice was deep and stern, thick.

He glared at me and rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek, leaning back without a care that he just got so rude with me. I looked back at the blonde beside him, and I straightened myself up, eyebrows furrowed.

What an entitled fucking asshole. God, I hate men. All the same.

"Okay, well, if you don't want me to dance for you, your loss," I spoke, just as aggressively as him. My reaction didn't even bother him.  My job here is done. That was fucking embarrassing. I could feel my face flush and my heartbeat begin to accelerate. Ugh, I hated feeling like that. He just humiliated me. And it wasn't often I'd get rejected. Why else is he here then? Just to be a douchebag? I know I looked good, so who the fuck does he think he is?

I liked money, but I'm not desperate. I have built myself up far too high to just be talked down to. Does he think he can waltz in here and disrespect the dancers? He's lucky I didn't smack him.

"Oh?" He asked, head tilted.

"Yeah. In fact, security can show you right on out, since you want to be a dickhead." I smiled at him, brightly. I could see amusement on his face suddenly, dimples on his cheeks as he grins up at me.

"Get him the fuck out," I told the blonde, "so I don't have to embarrass him."

The brunette stood to his feet suddenly, towering over me. I felt small again, but this time, also nervous. I took a staggered step back, ready to call for one of the guards. The music was so loud, and it just felt like everything was closing in on me. He got closer to me, and I could smell his cologne. I took in a deep breath and stared up at him, unsure of what he'd do next. He was intoxicatingly attractive, but I could see that mischief sparkle in his eyes. He was up to no good.

"Vixen, was it?" he rasped. "Try and kick me out."

I looked over at one of the guards and went to signal for him to come over when I felt something poking my stomach in one swift movement.

My body went cold, my stomach dropping. My breath hitched in my throat. I looked down, and saw a gun.

I licked my lips and swallowed. My knees felt weak. I felt like the music faded out entirely, and it was just me, him, and that gun.

"How about I just take that dance, hm?" he whispered. "So I don't have to paint the floor with your pretty insides."

I stood there in shock. His voice was so chilling.

The blonde behind said nothing. Nothing at all.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Words," he reminded me. "Speak."

"Fuck you," I managed through gritted teeth.

He pressed the gun harder into my stomach and I gasped. I felt so defeated. But, maybe I could bring him to the back and run. Run as fast as I can. Tell someone. Tell Julie.

"Okay. Follow me," I said, softly. I had to be smart. I could feel my mind going a million miles per hour. I looked at the blonde and he gave a playful wink, and I felt my insides twist. Was this his plan? All along? God, he knew. He knew what he was doing.

The gun was removed and he took a glance around the club cautiously before putting it in his pocket swiftly.

"Move, then," he snapped.

My legs hurriedly found themselves moving, and I tried to keep my composure calm. I walked to the back as fast as I could and made it to the private rooms. There was an LED sign above it that said "PRIVATE", and it was another long hallway. It was the only direct source of light we had, as it was completely dim. It was for the ambiance.

We walked through, and once we got to the end, there was a man. A security guard. He could help me. I went to open my mouth to speak, when the guard did instead.

"If it isn't the boss man himself," the guard spoke.

The unknown man beside me smirked and nodded as a greeting. My face fell.

Boss?

Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me. I've never seen this man a day in my life. Never heard of him. We walked further into the back, and there was little sections for each dance. They were separated by dark blue curtains.

"Still gonna try to kick me out?" The British man spoke, low in my ear. I bit my lip, angrily. I swear I could've made it bleed. I went to go into one of the sections when he yanked my arm. I flinched.

"Nuh uh, VIP room, thank you," he quipped in his sarcastic tone.

I clenched my jaw and began to walk toward a door off to the left, which said 'VIP' at the top in the same blue LED light fashion. Blue was obviously the main color in Cloud Nine, so every minor detail reflected that. I opened the door slowly, and he pushed me in, roughly.

I stumbled a bit and I could feel the adrenaline pumping in me. He closed the door behind him, and it was just me and him, alone.

"Stop putting your fucking hands on me!" I finally snapped. "I don't care what title you fucking have, I don't care about that god damn gun, stop fucking touching me!" I moved toward him, "I'll scream. I'll fucking call for help, I don't care!"

He was acting like my ex. The way he was just calmly pushing me around. The way he just liked to embarrass me. I felt so tiny. So stupid. I could feel tears in my eyes. He said nothing. I felt absolutely destroyed. Every man did this shit to me, huh?

"Well, you touched me first," he mentioned, "returning the favor."

He stood there, calmly as he spoke. Are you kidding me?  My head was pounding and I felt so weak. I let out the loudest scream I could, hoping for someone to help me and hear me. Anyone.

"Want me to scream with you?" he grinned, sadistically. "Soundproof, darling."

Oh god, oh god. He's going to kill me in here. They won't even know.

I'm trapped. Oh god.

I reached for the door in a desperate attempt and felt the gun on my temple. I averted my gaze slowly, to look back at the dangerous British man beside me.

"I just have a couple questions." His tone was so so calm.

"Who the fuck are you?" I managed. I knew now he was the boss, but deeply--who was he, really? I had no idea who this man was. My hands were trembling, waiting for his answer.

"Get to the couch."

I listened, walking anxiously toward one of the couches. I went to sit. I felt a nudge on my temple. I looked at him, and he shook the gun as a way of saying no to me. He then sat down on the couch, and grabbed my hips. I pushed his hands away as reflex, and his finger tauntingly touched the trigger. He grabbed my hips, harder, and led me to his lap. His long legs were spread, and he sat me on one of them. Gun still pressed to my temple, he began to speak.

"Tell me, what relationship do you have to Liam Payne?"

The name made my heart sink.

Why was he asking me about my ex?