Midnight Secrets

Chapter 22

No. I did not want to tell him why I was out late. For multiple reasons but mainly because it was none of his business. But since he knew my name, I made him my business.

I threw a hard look onto his face, my mouth in a tight line and my hands fisted on my lap.

"How do you know my name?" I asked him, each word pronounced suspiciously and with purpose. The purpose to get every dime of information out of this stranger.

The tattooed boy stared at me for a beat before he dropped his head back and let out a deep sigh. He looked back at me slowly, searching my face carefully.

"You're not shitting me." He muttered, dropping his head back on the bench again. I involuntary noted that he did those three times already in the space of two minutes. One more, he'd probably hurt himself.

"Why would I be shitting you?" I asked him with a raised brow, the solid fear of this boy washed down the drain the second my name came out of his mouth.

"You really aren't..." He replied back nonchalantly and not providing me with the answer I sought.

"Answer me!" I suddenly shouted, surprising both of us. Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrow at me.

"Well well well, if she didn't just raise her voice at me."

I literally screamed then, purely out of frustration.

"Shut up." He said, putting a hand over my mouth, muffling my scream. And then it hit me how shit scared I was and that fear that supposedly drained way? No, it was still there. It was after midnight. I was sitting with a total stranger - who just for your information looked scary under the light.

And he knew my name.

He put his hand away from my mouth and as soon as I felt the cold breeze on my lips, I opened my mouth and screamed again.

His hand came over my mouth just as quick.

I stared at him with wide eyes; like a deer caught in headlights and like a girl who just had her mouth cupped by a stranger. Tattoo boy was glaring at me with an icy look, his eyes showing every emotion in the semantic field of angry emotions. He looked royally mad and I knew my scream caused it all.

Stupid girl! Now he'll have his way with you since you made him mad, I say run.

"I'm going to move my hand now." The tattooed boy warned slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. They were very intense, and I found myself lost in the sea of depths that I didn't even feel him remove his hand.

"Good. Now let's take you home. I'm tired of you already."

I gaped at him but since my mouth opened slightly, the tattooed boy thought I was going to scream again. His hand covered my mouth instantly.

I started to shake my head, telling him I wasn't going to scream. He glowered at me. It was the whole deal, the deep frown that creased his forehead, the edge of his eyes twitching, his mouth curled up in a tight scowl. He looked frightening and a cold shiver ran down the back of my spine.

I physically crumbled in my seat on the bench, inwardly screaming.

"You gonna scream?"

I shook my head quickly.

"Are you sure?"

I bobbed my head quickly as well.