The Girl With Blue Hair {A Novel}

-Chapter Twelve-

Thank you for the wonderful cover, Symphony321 Talk to her if you need a cover as cool as this one. Have a wonderful day/night you beautiful humans.

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Blu's P.O.V:

When I woke, based off of my sore bones and joints, I assumed I had been out for quite a while. I looked around in the new semi darkness, realizing I could see more of the room. Which was obviously different, might I add.

The walls were now a horrifically bright pink, washing out the silver of my metal chair. The door was nothing but a white outline, showing no handle, but a hand scanner to the left. Hard to escape from.

"Fuck." I whispered, mentally barraging myself for not seeing this coming. It was obvious it was a setup from the start, but a gut instinct told me that Jake wouldn't have betrayed me. Especially not when he told me Grey sent him. Russel though, would be getting a visit when I got out. But how would I get-

The lights suddenly blazed. Too bright. My eyes screamed. Only after I was hit full force across my face did I realize that I was screaming.

"Pathetic." Macayla. "Welcome back, Princess. How may I assist you?" I sneered, recovering, and looked up at her.

"You could not scream every time the lights come on. You could side with me, or you could-"

My leg, which was apparently not tied to the chair, suddenly kicked out her knee.

Maybe Russel didn't help me, but Jake did, in his own way. Which was comforting, knowing he had my back. Or at least, my legs. "And you could back the fuck up and leave me alone." I smirked, she was still on the ground. "You could also tell me how the hell you found me in the first place, and why I'm here."

Slowly, she stood up.  As she walked toward me, with a limp, I noticed with another smirk, she pulled something from her pocket.

She dropped it on the floor in front of me.

It was a necklace, with a single charm. It was mine. At least, I had made it.

The fabric that the charm hung on was yarn, or at least seemed to be. It was a strand of blue, a strand of bright green, and a strand of white, braided together. It meant she was second in command. A code I made.

On the circle of braided yarn, hung our symbol. Not a badger, to the surprise of our enemies, but a wing.

Greyson told me once, before I made them, that the wing represented how, one day, we'd be able to disband the gang, and everyone would fly away, and be safe.

Safe from everything, he'd said, even from ourselves.

"Aw, did he tell you you'd be safe too?" She whispered, a sneer on her face.

At first, I hadn't understood, but now, after all these years, I think I did.

"He wasn't talking about us. Not really. He knew there were spies in our ranks. He knew about you." I spat, hitting the yarn near the wing, softening it, even as I stepped on the wing itself.

She growled, but now it was her turn to smirk. "Little Greyson didn't know enough, now did he?"

She picked up the necklace by the string, not noticing the yarn give way at the wing, leaving it under my combat boot.

She left the light on, and Jake entered immediately, his hat pulled low. Macayla stared at him as she exited, and he flashed her the ID on his belt loop.

H continued pushing a cart to me, and Macayla left. "Are you okay?" He whispered, pulling a bag from underneath the cart.

I nodded, eyes fixed on the bag. It was a brown, regular fast food bag. Except that, on the side, was a purple bell.

"Taco Bell?" I asked incredulously.

He nodded, smiling. I beamed at him. His smile was incredible. His teeth were a brilliant white, but his smile was lopsided, as if someone had hit it sideways.

He was cute.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, and took a bite of the taco in my face.

"When are you getting me out?" I asked between bites. I couldn't tell if they were drugged or not, but it didn't matter, because they were tacos, and they were delicious.

"Can't tell you. Sorry." He was smiling though, and I hoped that it meant I'd be out soon.

By the time I was done, small bits of meat had fallen my ripped jeans, and my tank top ended up with sour cream splatters.

He walked behind me, untying me. I didn't move.

"Shower time!" He said cheerfully. So that is what his smile was about.

Ugh. Guys.

I stood shakily, I hadn't moved in days, as far as I know.

Then I "tripped," picking up the silver wing, crushing it into my hand. He gave me a look, saying, I know what you just did, but I won't say anything. I smiled slightly.

He led me to the door, and put his hand on the scanner.

The door whooshed open, and we walked through it to a hallway. We turned left, then right, then right, then left, then right, left, right again, and then right- until even I couldn't have gotten back.

Then we walked into the showers. Locker-room style, they were all right next to each other. "Can I keep my clothes?" I asked, eyeing the mirror to my left.

"No."

I expected this. I looked at the mirror again. My Iron Maiden tank had sour cream spatters, my ripped jeans were showing more wear than I expected, and my hair looked like I had been tossed unceremoniously into a tornado. The only thing that looked decent were my combat boots, but they were designed to hold up against the elements, so humans did nothing.

"Damn. Get out then."

"Nope."

"Fuck."

"Is that an offer?"

I growled, and he backed away. Hurriedly, I stripped, ignoring his whistles. Pulling my hair down, I jumped in the shower, quickly cleaning myself.

Then I got out, throwing on the fatigues he handed me. My hair went back into a ponytail, and I pulled my boots back on.

"That was annoying." I stated when we arrived to a different room. He sat me in the chair, tied my legs, and moved to my hands.

Gently, he pressed a knife into my hands, and tied them back together. "Slit her throat for Grey." He whispered.

Then he left, walking out of the door. Somehow, I doubted I would see him again.

[Edited]
(1112 words)