My Addiction - Tom kaulitz

Boss

I stay sat right where he put me, I haven't moved a single finger, nor let my leg or my eye, I just sit deadly still. 

++Toms pov++ 

I leave that whore sat on the bed. I lock the door and take myself downstairs. The reason I have sat her down and left her up there all alone, is because she is a whore, I don't care if she's drunk or if she's beginning to like me, she is a whore. How can you slow dance with the man who knocked you out and raped you? Well, her obviously. She's a slut, and I hope she keeps her pretty little self sat on my bed, I hope she breaks down and cries until she chokes on her own tears. I want her to feel agony. I want her to tremble at the sound of my breathing. Stupid fucking slut. God I'm just itching to storm back in there and kick her ribs until they crack, I want to carve holes in her beautiful tan skin. I don't care about how strong her willpower may be, because no matter how tough she thinks she is, she won't make it out alive. And if she does, she'll end up killing herself to forget my face. And I want nothing more than that. 

I wait on a barstool, eager to hear her pounding on the door, or screaming my name with nothing but pure hatred. Just imagining her in a wreck on the floor in that dark room all on her own makes my skin crawl with lust. So I wait even longer, my patience burning out, yet I keep myself glued to my seat. Still nothing, no footsteps or muffled sobs. 

++Angels pov++

I know Tom is downstairs waiting for me, and I know he wants to hear me in a panic up here, so I keep myself silent as ever, making sure each step I take is soft. I travel to the bedside table where he pulled those damned ropes from, I carefully slide the draw open and try to poke my hand in, however its not open far enough, so I open it even more, praying that it doesn't make a single squeak. 

 I'm honestly not shocked to find the assortments of condoms and the odd handcuff, but one item catches my eye. The dim light dances in its reflection, I reach my hand in, careful enough so I don't rustle any wrappers or chains, my hand meets the item so I pull it out. The cold metal cools my burning hands down. Though it sounds simple, the item is what appears to be a burner phone. A flip phone to be exact, like the ones you see drug dealers using, so I curiously open it expecting to find out he's a crack dealer on the side, but the contacts he has saved tells me he is in fact not a dealer, yet something much much worse. 

Bill, Gustav, Georg, crime cleanup, underboss, closest associate, capo1, and a few un-named contacts. Underboss? Associate? Crime cleaner? What the fuck?

 I click on Bills contact first, I scan through their texts. Their messages are what you'd expect brothers to send, yet one text in particular takes me by surprise. It's a simple address. Sounds normal, but the image attached isn't normal, not in any way shape or form. I open the picture, an empty warehouse, well what a waste of time, I go to click off but just as my finger hovers over the button, I catch sight of something, I squint my eyes and look closer, a black bag, I look closer again, its not a black bag, its a body bag. That's... weird?  The date the picture was sent is 27/03/09

I click onto crime cleanup and scroll up until I find the date the picture was sent, and sure enough Tom has sent a message describing the scene 

'My men dealt with the body but we need clean up asap, bring bleach and a lot of it. Don't get seen, keep your mask on and get in and out quickly. Get rid of the smell and any evidence. On the floor to your left when you walk in is a pool of blood, get there before it dries. If you don't do this one properly, you know what's coming for you.' 

A few hours later the cleaner sends a picture of the same warehouse, however its so clean that if I told you there was a body there you would send me to a mental hospital. Yeah, its such a weird job, but props to him. 

I click off of the chat and open underboss, I was expecting something strange, and sure enough, I got strange. I furrow my eyebrows as I read the weirdly urgent messages

'Boss, get over here now' the underboss initiates

'On my way, what's the situation??'

'We ran into a few boys from another part of the city,'

'Deal with the stragglers, me and Bill will be there' 

'Yes boss.'

Boss? Seriously? I would never dream of calling Tom my Boss. These chats are practically all the same, the guy asking for help and Tom rushing over. I click off the chats and stuff the phone back into the drawer, not wanting to read into his life any longer. In a way, it quietens the part of my mind that desperately wants to know exactly who he is, yet the thought of him killing people shakes me to my core. A sharp shiver darts down my spine as I grimace just thinking about what he may get up to for 'work', I throw myself back on the bed, the image of the body bag continuously replaying in my mind as if its tattooed onto my eyelids, yet I know that this probably isn't the worst to come. And although his 'job' thoroughly disturbs me, I want him to tell me. I want him to look me in the eyes and tell me that he kills people because that is his 'job', sounds weird, I know, but if I can get him to admit that to me, I know I can make him tell me whatever I want to know.

 So I pick myself back up and begin clawing at the locked door loud enough that Tom will hear me from downstairs, I wail and pond at the floor with my fist, and as expected, the unsettling sound of his footsteps grows louder, and louder, and louder. I yell his name and collapse myself onto the floor, he unlocks the door and walks in, slowly lowering his body to sit by my side. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he reaches a hand to move the hair sticking to my face

"Whatever is the matter ,love?" I hold back the urge to heave at his heavy touch as I lean into his hand

"Why did you leave me? Why?" I sob, fighting back a smile

"I had to deal with something my angel."

"Deal with what!" I snap back, dying for him to spill his secret

"Work." 

"What kind of work is so important that you have to leave me here needing you."

"The work I do."

"Why can't you just tell me?" I plead

"Why do you need to know?" he removes his hand from my head 

"..." 

"I asked you a question. Why do you need to know?"

"..."

He raises his hand and gives me a hard slap on my cheek, I quickly cradle my face in my hands

"Are you going to answer me?"

"I-"

He slaps me again, harder.

"Yes, or no?"

"Wait-"

And again

"Then you can lay here like the pathetic little slut you are" he stands up and peers down on me before sending a kick to my ribs, I wince as I fight to get my breath back, however as I begin to open my mouth to talk he slams the door on my face.