Hostage

1."Don't scream unless you want a reason to"

***9 months earlier***

I thanked the nice lady behind the register, accepting my ice cream cone and continuing my journey of taking a walk. As I stepped outside the strong, chilly wind of London whipped my hair up, sending it flying straight into my ice cream. 

I know what you're thinking; Why the hell are you eating an ice cream cone in the middle of Winter?

I often ask myself this question, but I can't come up with any other answer other than the fact that Ice cream is the best thing anyone has ever created and it deserves to be eaten year-round.

"Way to go, Raleigh" I mumbled to myself, plucking my hair from the sticky sweet treat. I did, however, continue to lick it. My tongue swirled around the bottom as I tried to prevent it from dripping onto my hands. A shriek left my lips as I was suddenly lurched forwards, the ice cream sent flying to the ground from the impact.

My eyes narrowed to slits and I turned hastily, ready to scream at whoever made me drop my five Euro snack. My mouth snapped shut as I realized it was just my idiot of a brother and a few of his perverted friends.

"Whoops, sorry sis" He feigned innocence. "Didn't see you there"

I rolled my eyes, re-shouldering my duffel bag and stepping over my abandoned blob of Ice cream. I frowned when I realized I'd be going to dance class on an empty stomach. "What are you idiots doing over here anyways? Shouldn't you be, like robbing banks or something?"

Spencer knew I wasn't particularly fond of his friends, in fact, he often used it against me whenever he was forced to look after me. He'd always invite them over and have them annoy the shit out of me just because he's an ass.

"We're not criminals, shrimp" Spencer smirked, reaching out and shaking his hand through my hair, making it even more tangled than it already was. I cringed at the nickname; Ever since I was an infant in my mom's stomach I was small. Some doctor's thought I wouldn't make it while others thought my mother would just have a premature birth. I may have come out a month earlier than normal, but I was still a fighter. Although today I'm at a healthy height, Spencer still clung to the nickname I was given.

The wind nipped at my exposed arms, making me hold my arms around myself and shuffle closer to Spencer instinctively. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me in a playful manner before stepping back and gesturing to his rusty, red truck. "Need a ride?"

"I don't want to be in a secluded area with your annoying friends" I quipped.

Spencer merely waved me off, taking hold of my wrist and throwing me into the passenger side. "Well, suck it up because I won't let you walk three blocks to your class in the freezing air"

Sighing, I rolled my eyes but buckled myself in and rested my head against the back of my seat, staring contently out of the window as I listened to his friends clamber into the car.

I blinked rapidly when I saw a dark figure emerge from the confines of an alley. A light Grey hoodie was pulled over a dark mop of curls, a pair of all black jeans sat smugly against his legs, and a pair of dark boots adorned his feet. He was the kind of man your parents would pull you away from as you passed him. The kind of person that sent chills up your spine (not the good kind) simply by a mere glance; The kind of man you were told to stay away from as a child.

I was sure we were making eye contact even through the tinted windows of Spencer's run down truck. And I was almost positive about the smirk that crossed his face for a split second before he plunged back into darkness.

~ * ~

"...And then he was like, 'we should so this again sometime', and I just giggled and gave him a flirty wink before grabbing my clothes and walking out. Do you know why I did that?"