Bradford Bad Boy (a Zayn Malik Fanfic)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

-THREE DAYS LATER-

“Zayn? Zayn, where are you?” God, why won’t you pick up your phone? “I don’t want to sit on your couch all day. Also, waking up alone in a king size bed isn’t exactly the best. GOD ZAYN where are you?!”

So here I was sitting on his couch, at 11am. Zayn was nowhere to be found. I haven’t seen him for the past hour, and he said he was just going to pick up some milk.

Since I had nothing to do, I decided to rummage around and have a look around the house for fun. I knew it’s wrong to look through people’s personal things but hey it’s his fault for not keeping me occupied. My curiosity takes over when I’m bored.

I looked through all the draws in the living room, but nothing was very interesting. As I checked the last draw in there, I rummaged through a heap of documents and came along something quite interesting.

A box. I pulled it out, opened it and carefully looked through what’s inside. I think it was a memory box. It had a picture of a young child with black hair and the cutest big hazel eyes, and a gorgeous woman with tanned skin, long locks of black hair and green eyes. The child I assumed to be Zayn, and the woman was his mother. What happened to her? There were also some envelopes and some jewelry in it, but I decided to not look through them because they seem quite precious. What happened to his mother? Where was the dad? Does Zayn have any siblings? I gently closed the box and placed it where I found it, closed the draw and moved to the bedroom.

I pulled open his closet, and a waft of his cologne filled my nostrils. It is kind of a musky, yet inviting and delicious smell. Ever since I met him I admired that scent. For a guy, he had such amazing fashion as well.

I closed the doors and moved on to his bedside table. I opened it, and blazed red at what I saw. There was a box of condoms, and some type of clear gel that I’m guessing was a lubricant. How many girls has he actually had in here? I cringed at the thought. No way am I ready for that type of relationship just yet.

If he thinks I am just another one of those girls he can fuck and tell them to leave, he is wrong. He gets all of me, or nothing at all. The last relationship I had was for two years with the high-school heart-breaker, we both fell in love and I was ready to give myself to him until I saw him and another girl making out, and him saying that he doesn’t give a shit about me, all he wanted was sex and once he got it he was going to dump me and move onto the slut he was feeling up. That happened a year ago, and I still have my walls up high. I’m not willing to experience the agonizing pain, sleepless nights and heartbreak I suffered from that breakup.

Pulling out of my trance I closed the drawer and lay down on the floor. I just felt shit again after looking back into the past. I rolled my head towards the bed, and lifted up the doona to look under the bed. I found a large suitcase. I pulled it out, finding it surprisingly heavy. I started to get a bad vibe, why was this so heavy?

I opened the suitcase, and gasped sharply– almost chocking on my saliva.

The case was filled with money, bundles of notes – 20, 50 and even 100 dollar notes were muddled in stacks. What the fu – what was that peeking from under the money?

I slowly rummaged through the money and got a bad bad vibe. He was hiding something from everyone, and I was afraid to find it. I rummaged through as slowly as I could, and found a silver hardtop case piled under the bottom of the money. I knew I should have ran far far away from it, from the house, from who I thought was Zayn. But I knew I had to find out what was inside that case, even if it killed me. I unbuckled the buckles, and with a bit of effort the case squeaked open.