𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬 || 18+

𝐓𝐰𝐨 ||

Let it hurt until it can't hurt no more.
- Liam Ryan
꧁--------------------꧂

Wynter Snow

It was warm in here. I was encased in it the moment we stepped into his private office. I didn't realize the club building even stretched this far and deep above the main setting. The walls were adorned with a smooth velvet of a blood red with warm low lights placed strategically and symmetrically.

This place was huge. The main room held a long polished oak table that looked to be used for important business meetings. His black glass and metallic desk sat back on the corner of the room. To its right held a large panoramic view of the city.  Behind him, paintings of wine bottles diamonds that were being poured into glass cups  and old-timey jazz band portraits hung just behind his desk and down the line leading back to the maid door.

He led me around the bend and I was shocked to see a whole other room, or I should say, apartment. It was closed off by crystal glass double doors that allowed you to see through it with thick black curtains that were pinned opened to the sides — and from what I could see, there were also curtains on the other side. My gaze flew to the panoramic view as he typed in his code to the doors, giving him a little bit of privacy.

"Let's go." He looked back at me with the door held open behind him. My heart raced a little. I was already trapped, sure, but just the thought of going back there, to his more private quarters.

"You can trust me." 

"Well when you say it like that it sounds like I can't." Pride swells through me at being able to speak without the tremors shaking my voice.

This man scared me more than anything I'd been through tonight. Behind those cool, smooth eyes, I could see—feel something unhinged. There's no way a normal person would've acted so calmly, so aloof about seeing a dead body and a crazy black girl kicking it's said body. All the blood - ugh, I felt like  wasn't going to throw up again.

The man sighs. "You ever use a gun before?" He suddenly asks. My sunken tired eyes lift to meet his. I nod.

My daddy had started to teach me how to use guns at an early age. "For her protection" he'd always say anytime my mama made a fuss about me playing with guns.

Something sparkled in his eyes. A twinkle and barely there, but it was there. It looked like, more so felt like admiration with the way he stared at me. "Good." The timbre of his voice carried through me, but that feeling quickly swept away the moment he made he way to me.

I stood straighter when his hand went around his back and pulled out a gun. Oh shit.

My heart started to pound in my chest. I was starting to think this was a bad idea. I should've just turned myself in, I should've—  "Here."

Pulling myself from the recesses of my mind, my eyes shot down to the handle of the gun being pointed at me.

"What? I don't —"  "Take it. If you feel like you can't trust me at any given time, shoot me."

"What! You're crazy!" He's lost his mind! Surely he couldn't be serious. I took the gun, waited till he backed away to check to see if it had any bullets inside.

Oh shit! I stare at the bullets before me, getting a long look at the choice he just put in my hands. He's serious.