Jax Bronson was a straight-A student until he disappeared off of the face of the earth 5 years ago.
Right after he finished his government mandated education, all traces of him disappeared from both the Internet and files.
Or so he thought.
Through my meticulous search of any morsels of information I could scrounge, I learned his credit card information, his social security number, and where he liked to eat lunch on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
Of course, all of that information was completely irrelevant.
I groaned in frustration as I slammed my laptop shut and banged my head against the obsidian counter that I was leaning against. My shoulders sagged in defeat, and I felt myself strip away to my true being. Weak. Brittle. Broken.
"Rough day?" I heard a raspy whisper from behind me. I jumped up in surprise, quickly regaining myself, before turning around, with my gun already drawn.
"Why are here?" I sneered, my face contorting into ugly cruelty. "Jax," I added at the end, yearning to see his response to his name.
A hint of anger flitted across his eyes, which glinted under the crude light cast from the chandelier hanging above our heads. He regained his composure swiftly, looking at me with an amused expression.
"Very good, Adrianna, you know my name," Jax mocked me, his pale lips forming a smirk.
"We both know you're here to kill me, why not do it now?" I asked, before I could stop the words from escaping my lips.
"Believe it or not," he shrugged, stepping closer to me, whacking my gun away with one swift motion, so that I was pinned against the cool marble wall behind me, "I don't want to kill you, Adrianna."
"Sure," I muttered sarcastically, "and I like rainbows."
"You don't like rainbows?" he asked me incredulously, chuckling at my annoyed expression. His gaze felt penetrating, as he inched closer to me. His breath fanned across my face, causing irrational exuberance to run through me.
"No. Just like I don't like you," I told him, gritting my teeth. I shoved him off of me, forcing him to press his head against the counter I had been previously leaning against. I pulled out a pocketknife shoved in my pocket, and flicked it open, exposing the brutish blade. He groaned, before moving his leg to trip me, with my hands still constraining him. We both fell, bracing ourselves for the impact, as we hit the cold marble floor, duplicate to the walls surrounding us. He grabbed my waist roughly, forcing me to land on top of him, and breaking my fall. His arm still around my waist, he pressed me up against the floor, his chest pressed against my back.
"I like your knife," he whispered softly in my ear, his hair brushing against my face, before pushing himself up smoothly, and walking out of the room as if nothing happened.
YOU ARE READING
Bloody Hearts ✔️
Teen FictionShe's been raised to be heartless. He's been raised to be ruthless. She feels trapped. He feels tied down. She is broken. He is bloody. They aren't perfect. They're beautiful. - - Adrianna has been leading the "Black Cobra" gang since her fa...
