Rented {SLOW UPDATES}

8 - Killer - Jack

"Jack," she slurred. "I need you to take me home."

"You're drunk." I caught her by the arm before she could face plank onto a stool. "I don't even know where your house is."

"Here." she fumbled with her car keys and then unsteadily threw them at me. "You drive, I'll drink."

She grabbed a wine bottle from the cabinet, popped the cork, and took a swig. Her face twisted in delight.

"That's how wine is supposed to taste!" she yelled as she waved her arm around, nearly splashing the alcohol on an expensive looking painting. "At least these bitches know how to throw a party."

"We really need to get you home." I pried the bottle from her hand.

"That's mine Jack!" As soon as those words left her mouth, she collapsed onto the floor, face first.

I lugged her out of the house and eventually found her car. Setting her down onto the chair, I grabbed the seatbelt and buckled it for her.

Before I pulled myself out, her hand shot out and grabbed my face.

"You know, Jack," she said half asleep. "You're a really good kisser."

For a second, my heart stopped. Her golden eyes glittered sleepily and her tousled platinum hair fell from her high bun. Her warm hand on my cheek made me want to lean in and...

"MF!" Olivia's cheeks puffed out.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

I tried to back away but her hand was clasped around my neck, making me unable to flee. She threw her other hand up to her mouth, but that wasn't enough to stop her dinner from flying all over me.

"I brought Miss Olivia back home," I said to the electric fence in front of her house, "she passed out on the way here."

There was a beep from a screen somewhere and the gates swung open. I drove in and the engine purred. I parked in front of her house and Howard the butler came to my aid.

I picked Olivia up and her whole being stank of puke. I tried not to gag as Howard led me toward her room. Everything was white and I set her down on her bed. A maid came out of the closet and began to undress her.

"Uh..." My face grew hot. "I'll leave."

I quickly left the room but my eyes caught something in the hallway. There were three frames on a nearby piano that contained pictures.

The first one was of Olivia in front of her office door.

Maybe when she got promoted as CEO.

Her face beamed with power and her golden eyes gleamed with responsibility.

The second picture was of her and her mother. They looked like twins.

The third picture was of her and her father. She sat next to a weary old man who was lying down in a hospital bed with an IV needle in his arm.

The scary thing was, the father looked eerily familiar. His left hand had the tattoo of the Roman numeral five and his face looked as if he had been a scary man when he was younger.

And then it hit me.

"Hey there little boy," the man crouched down in front of me and placed his rough hand on my shoulder. "did your mom wake you?"

The man's horrible smile sent chills down my back.

"Where is she?" I looked around the room and saw that my parents were sitting at the table. My mother had her face buried in her hands while my father stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders to comfort her from whatever it was that was bothering her.

"Mom?"

My mom looked up at me as soon as she heard my voice and rushed to me.

"Honey," she held my shoulders and looked at me with worried eyes. "Why are you awake? You should go back to sleep."

"I heard you yell..." my eyes began to sting with tears. "Is everything okay mom?"

My mother's face changed only for a split second. It was as if somebody stabbed her in the back with a knife.

"Everything's okay," her voice was pained and she did her best to smile. It was a cold smile compared to her usual warm ones.

"I think you should go back to your room, soldier," my dad kneeled down next to me. "You need your sleep."

"You promise everything's okay?" I looked at my parents and picked at my nails like I did whenever I was nervous.

My mother took my nervous hands in hers and smoothed the back of my head.

"We promise," my father stuck out his pinky and I hooked it with mine. "Here, I'll write it down."

My father wrote something down on his palm with his finger. "See? Now I'll paste it on my forehead to remind me that I promised."

He placed the palm of his hand on his forehead. I followed suit and placed my palm on my own forehead.

"Pasted," we said together.

This man... This cruel, evil man...

He was the man who had killed my parents on that horrible night.

A/n: What up people. I'm back. I'm not sure if it'll be for good but I am back for today :)