𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 |𝟏𝟖+|

𝐓 𝐇 𝐈 𝐑 𝐓 𝐘 ~ 𝐓 𝐖 𝐎

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-　

✼ N E V A E H ✼

"Thank you, my knight and shining armor," I announced bitterly as I turned over to Atticus with the fakest smile plastered on my face. "I really couldn't have done it without you." I hope he hears the sarcasm in my voice and doesn't think I'm actually thanking him. I may be crazy but I'm not that crazy.

He chuckled lightly and briefly looked down at me. "It's my pleasure, m'lady. How could I walk away from a damsel in distress?" He played along, walking faster and faster until we were at the exit.

"Why are you mad?" I asked. Finally breaking apart from him and looking up to his not so relaxed and rather tense facial features.

He muttered some words in Italian to the people who checked us out into the club and slowly turned his head to me. "I'm not mad." He placed his hand on my lower back and urged me to move towards his car where his driver waited for him.

Atticus opened the door of the backseat before climbing in after me. "Is it because he was the one touching me and kissing me and not you?" I know I was really testing him but it didn't hurt to have a little fun. I know he sure as hell had a little fun beating the living shit out of Eric. As soon as the car started, he reached over and did my seat belt for me and sat there ignoring me.

Okay be like that asshole.

His jaw clenched as I said that and he looked everywhere but at me. "I don't care who or what you do, Estelle."

"Okay. Whatever strokes your dick." I responded, rolling my eyes at his odd annoyance at me and decided to take in the exterior and atmosphere of Italy. I had to enjoy it while I still could. "Cause with that attitude it sure as hell won't be me," I muttered lowly under my breath causing him to whip his head at me.

"What was that?" He asked, eyebrow raised as his head rested on the palm of his hand, flashing me a sight of his bruised up and bloody knuckles.

"I said do you have a breath mint, that man's breath smelled like shit."

Atticus raised his hips to retrieve a pack of Altoids from his front pocket and handed three of them to me before popping some in his mouth as well.

Really? Altoids? What is he, an old widowed man who lives alone with cats?

"What, you think you're too gangster for a seat belt?" I pointed out, eyeing my seat belt and looking over at his nonexistent one. I enjoyed mocking this man. He had this specific face he made when he was irritated and it was enough for me to keep doing it but on the inside I was laughing my ass off.

"Those are your words not mine," He said. "Besides, how do you know I don't have a death wish?"

"How do you know that I don't?" I challenged, seeing his nostrils flare up as he tried to avoid looking at me. "Sooner or later you're going to have to look at me. It's pretty hard not to admire my beautiful face, Atticus. Many have tried and plenty have failed." I informed, adding a sweet smile to my statement.

"Why'd you do it?" He asked me after a long while, still failing to look into my eyes.

Damn, how long does it take to get to this place. I need to take a fucking piss.

"Do what?" I responded, looking in his direction while tearing my eyes from the beautiful sights outside the window. Of course I knew what he was talking about, but there was no harm in dragging it out.

Now he finally looked at me with his gray eyes that looked like they were going through a hurricane. A million things going on at once. "Kiss him." Okay I guess he's straight to the point.

"I thought you didn't care."

"I don't," He argued weakly. Bull fucking shit. If you're going to lie, at least be good at it.

"Yeah and I'm Nicki Minaj," I called back sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I toyed with the holster on my thigh. I'm surprised he didn't question me where I got it. Stupid boy.

"Really? Can I get an autograph? I've been a Barb literally my whole life." Don't play with me right now.

"Deadass?" I asked him, almost jumping from my seat at the sound of it. I don't think I've ever met a man that listened to Nicki Minaj, well, except for Spencer. But he's different. "And here I was thinking you're an uncultured piece of shit. You're still a piece of shit though." I add.

"Deadass," He chuckled at the shock expression in my face. He scrunched his face at my latter statement. "I'm sorry, do you want me to walk around with a mustache and a platter of pizza on my hand?"

"Take your pants off," I blurted out, abruptly slapping my hand over my mouth as soon as that sentence left my mouth. That's what happens if you let your inner thoughts win.

"Huh?" His jaw practically hung open as he stared at me in shock. I know, you and me both, buddy.

I cleared my throat and hid my face behind my now sweaty hands. What the fuck is wrong with me? I wanted to fucking cry. Was I still allowed to do that? What if I just jumped out of a moving car? "Sorry, I meant put your hand out," I quickly rushed out.

Now he for sure thinks I'm some kind of slut.

Atticus skeptically eyed me up and down before hesitantly putting his hand out in front of me. I slipped Eric's phone into his hand and smiled proudly at myself as I saw the mischievous and somewhat triumphant smirk on his face. And what else was it... pride?

Nah.

Since he was obviously too stunned by my amazing work, I did the talking. "I figured since you had such little trust in him, you could get someone to track his calls and make sure he's not the one behind the attack. If there is any." I added quickly.

The look on his face confused the fuck out of me. I don't know whether he was impressed or disappointed. "That's why you were kissing him?" He's still on this? I thought we moved on.

"Those are your words not mine. Can I see your knife?"

The look on his face changed from surprised to concerned as he pulled out his knife and showed it to me, nearly shoving it in my face. "Look at it, isn't she just marvelous? Now you've seen it." He said, putting it away.

"I meant give it to me. You know what I meant, asshole," I grumbled, annoyed at his childishness. I probably would've done the same thing.

Atticus took it back out from his pocket and reluctantly handed it to me. "Don't try anything." Was that a threat? I feel very threatened.

Feeling the need to feed into the idea of killing him, I looked into the pits of the grey in his eyes as if I found the eye of the storm. I gave him a murderous gaze. I needed him to believe I would actually kill him if need be, because I would. But I should know that he wasn't fazed at all. Not one bit. Not even in the slightest.

"I thought we were friends. Why did you lie to me, Atticus?" I questioned him somewhat jokingly. Letting the pure gold of his knife gleam in my eyes as I continued sharpening it against the piercing silver of mine. He knew full well what I was talking about.

He lied to me about the fact that Eric was married. He tried to play with the keys of my inner woman, tried to tie the strings of my heart into knots so he could pull at it whenever he wanted to. He was smart, I'll give him that. But not as smart as me. He knew that if I knew he was married, I wouldn't approach him. But I could sense the lie before it even touched his lips.

"You and I. We are never going to be friends, ciccia," He smirked sadistically at me, pulling himself closer to me as his hand traveled to my bare neck, slightly choking me. I smirked at him, feeling his thumb brush along my lips.

"Really? And why is that?" I queried, seductively batting my eyelashes at him. The car came to a stop before he even got the chance to spit out an answer.

Talk about perfect timing.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 ➤ 𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄. 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄. &. 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪